Monday, February 14, 2011

Love...actually?


While this past week has been quite adventurous, I feel I need to write about today, Valentines’ Day, Saint Valentine’s Day that is and I promise updates on my last week complete with photos on Wednesday.  But today my focus is about this holiday and my personal take of the day.

Valentine’s Day is the holiday of love.  The day for cards, little chocolates, champagne, roses, everything red…but I wonder…if it’s so centered on material items easily purchased at Walgreen’s or the corner ‘Gas ‘n Sip’, then why do people get so depressed and feel less about themselves because they are spending this day “alone?”   Have we lost the true meaning about the day and made it into another reason to prove how loved we are… or to feel how loved we aren’t?

In theory, I dig the idea of a day to reflect on those you love…But in reality, the holiday (and I use that term loosely) is pretty sad.  No, I am not jaded…but is it truly a “holiday” or is it just a reason, once a year, to spend a ton of money on items that are disposable symbols of love and affection?  And in many cases, makes singles or “lonely hearts” feel less about themselves because they are "alone?"

Why is that?  Why do we allow ourselves to let a holiday, a day of observation, celebration, to make us feel unloved, less special and insignificant because we don’t have a significant other to exchange teddy bears, sweet tart hearts or enjoy a “feast of the sea “ for two at Red Lobster with?  And why do some of us think we are better and more important and loved, because we do?  (as I wipe drawn butter off my chin.)

From what I can tell, more people are focused on the fact they are spending this day without someone “special” then focusing on all the true love and “special” people they DO have in their lives.  For instance, in the past, regarding the upcoming day of amore, I have heard my girlfriends say, “Ugh, I hate Valentine’s Day.  It just reminds me that I'm single.”  “I have no one to spend Valentine’s Day with and it sucks”  “No one will ever love me”  “What if I am always alone?”

Wait, I am here.  I love you.  I won’t buy you little candy hearts that say “be mine” but I will tell you I love you.  I won’t let you feel alone.  Isn’t that worth something?

I’m not Irish but I thoroughly enjoy a slammin’ St. Patty’s Day Parade and I’m all about everything green on March 17th. 

Every May you’ll find me celebrating the Mexican’s army victory over the French on Cinco de Mayo and I am not Mexican or French, but margaritas –
¡Los quiero mucho!

And let me set the record straight, I am no fool, but I have been know to pull off some cherry April Fool’s Day pranks.

I don’t think, (although it’s marketing genius, so kudos corporate America, kudos), I don’t think that this day is really intended to celebrate having a significant other..

BUT…we do.  Even if you say you don’t, the thought has crossed your mind.  Hasn’t it?  Maybe once?  Just maybe? 

This day should and must start with the most important valentine in this world, you.  You are loved and special.  Don’t believe me?  Ask your Niece or Mother, ask your Brother or grocery sacker you give a couple bucks to now and again, ask your dog or Grandpa.

Love is a term that can mean so much, and so little at the same time. 

“I love my family...  I love my dog….  I love to go on vacations….  I love Pinot Noir….  I love college hoops….  I love chips and salsa.  I love to run…. I love Goggling things….  I love goldfish crackers…. I love my Reefs…”

I love a lot, from my family to flip-flops. 

But wait, that ain’t right.  Do I really feel the same way about my Mom as I do about Pepperidge Farm’s little cracker bits of delight?  (I do love those crackers.) 

Kind of makes you think.  Do we really know what love is or do we just throw the word around using it as a noun, verb and idiom, diluting it's true meaning to basically say I REALLY REALLY LIKE THESE GOLDFISH!  

Have we used the word love so much to prove our feelings it's become casual?

Loving and being loved is essential to our existence.  But, you must love yourself first.  That's a love that will never fail or leave you.  Once you are filled with love, your love, by you, in you, every day becomes Valentine's Day, and you have beat the system.  You have reversed the order of what you think this day is about and have embraced it to the point you live your life full of love every day.


So maybe this holiday should be the design structure for everyday..and love what all and who all we do have, instead of what we don’t.


Now go call your Mom or Dad, Sister, Nephew, neighbor, old teacher, middle school friend, fishing-buddy anyone you think who could use a special Valentine's Day greeting....and wish them a wonderful day.


And then do it again, tomorrow and the next day, and the next day and don't ever stop...

Do it for the love in your heart.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Until next post,
Caroline

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Super Bowl of Reality


It’s Super Bowl Sunday!  Cold beer, chips, dips and commercials!  I love Super Bowl Sunday! 

But this year, today, I am not feeling it. 
I am far away from home. 
Far away from my friends and family. 

No betting squares this year, no queso cooking on the stove, no cocktail weenies in the crock pot.  For the first time since I got here, it hits me.... I am alone. 

Alone with my dream and this is what I wanted.

Wait.  Um, no, this isn’t what I wanted, was it?  I put myself in this position, I made this happen.  This isn’t fun….this is scary.  I’m homesick. 

 I want to stay in bed today and perhaps the rest of my life. 

Everyone said, (besides that I am going to love it out here) LA is tough.  What I thought they meant was the city itself was tough…and I was all, "No, no this city is awesome!"  But what I now realize is the “tough” comes in when the dust settles, the savings run low, everyday life sets in and it hit’s you.

"WHAT IN THE HELL AM I DOING?"

I am starting over.

As romantic as it sounds, it’s scary as hell.  It’s lonely, it’s exciting, it’s unknown.
A roller coaster.  Massive highs – I am in LA!  The weather is awesome!  Everyone is unique!  Hiking, skiing, the beach, the culture!  Deep lows - The quiet.  The strangers.  The unsuccessful job-hunt.  No one to tell me it’s all going to be okay and to keep going…

I was invited to a Super Bowl party by a friend of a friend and I thought I was going to go, but now, given the state I am in, I decide that hanging at home would be best.  I pick up the phone to graciously decline the invitation and as soon as she answered, I started to cry.  Here I was crying on the phone, breaking down to a perfect stranger….Through my tears, I attempt to explain that I am so homesick and “just not feeling” like I would be good company, she said to me, “You know what would cheer you up?  Being with a bunch of rowdy and obnoxious Steelers fans, eating good food, drinking cold beer.  Caroline, we have all been just exactly where you are, and we’ll help you understand why you’re here.”

Huh, so maybe there will be betting squares, queso and cocktail weenies or maybe there will be something new…and maybe I am not alone.  I am surrounded by people, opportunities and love, it’s just different now.  Different in an exciting and scary way. 

If my Mom were here, she would say to me, "Nothing in this life comes easy, if it did, we’d all be living in Malibu looking out over the ocean trying to decide which movie offer we want."

Alright, I get nothing comes easy, but damn, does it have to be this hard?

It does.  It does and I know why.  I have to go through this and experience the lows to appreciate and recognize the highs. 

A friend once told me diamonds were made under pressure and if that’s the case, well I am destined to be a 45-karat, flawless rock that Beyonce would be proud to wear.

So the only person that can make me get up and get this Super day going is myself.  One step at a time, one day at a time.

Plus, Super Bowl parties are way better than pity parties and traditionally not much crying.

Let's do this.



Until next post –
Caroline



Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Cents & Sensibility


I have a couple problems that I need to get taken care of immediately…The most pressing, I need to get with my credit union and have them send me my pin number for my bankcard because I have no way of getting cash until then.  Trust me, I have tried.  Most of you might think, well if you have a credit card, then why would you need cash?   
Here’s why:

The other morning, as I am getting ready for my class, I plan out my journey in my head about how I am going to get there.  The bike?  Out of the question, I am short on dignity so I must preserve the tiny bit I have left….I could walk, but uphill – no thanks.  Alright, my two remaining options are either to cab it there, $$$, or ride the bus.  Bus to me screams adventure and it’s cheap, hey, I am a starving actor so…I ask a random stranger what the fare is for the bus and he says, $1.50.  Wow, times have changed.  Change.  Damn, I need to scrounge up $1.50 in change because I’m sure they don’t take credit cards and I have zero cash.

I consult Google on what routes to take.  It’s basically mindless.  I can catch the 704 bus a block away from my house…take that 5 blocks, transfer to the 780 bus and boom, in 28 minutes I will be at the door of Second City.  SWEET.

Like a teenager, I scour my place for all things change.  What I discovered was if I was in Mexico, China or Italy, I would have no problem paying the bus fare, even a plane ticket in Beijing, curses, why do we have to be such world travelers? 
Then it hits me, PURSES!  
All girls have change at the bottom of their purses, so I race upstairs, time check, 9:18, (I have to leave the house by 9:50) and…where are they…oh, score, four purses, yea!  I grab the biggest one I own first, dump it out, rummage through the pieces of gum, half wrapped with purse debris clinging on to dear life.  (Pieces of gum such as this are disgusting, but…you can’t throw them out because you never know when the urge to chew your mouth to spearmint bliss is going to hit.)  Over the mounds of lip gloss, receipts galore, random diamond stud, card of some dude I met last night who is “going to make me a star” READ: Harvest my kidneys – no thank you and voila, change!  Quarters are like gold bits of love, I only find two.. there are a couple dimes and some nickels…fifty, sixty, sixty-five, seventy-five..(half way there!) on to the next bag, like it was a Las Vegas slot machine, I hit sixty cents!!!  One dollar and thirty-five cents, all I need is fifteen more cents!  Next purse, dry as the Mohave desert, boo….last chance is this tiny baguette I have, not very functional, but oh so cute, and I know, there ain’t no change in there…I dump it, knowing the outcome, I have hope…no change, but – sweet, there is my license, so it wasn’t a total loss…
 

 
Time check, 9:30.  I have 20 minutes.  Crunch time.  Think, think Caroline – A-HA!  The catch-all kitchen drawer! 
I race back downstairs, sprint into the kitchen, stepped on a bottle cap, ouuuuch, was I hurt or was I injured, ah who cares, this is time for self-sacrifice and I need fifteen cents.  I open the kitchen drawer, matches, incense, corks, buttons, a pocket knife, more corks (why do we save all these corks?)  A QUARTER!!  (Doing the touchdown dance, I have my bus fare!)


I hit the door and make it to the bus stop with 5 minutes to spare, swwwweeet!  I am counting out my change to make double sure it’s the right amount, and in the slowest of slow motion, a quarter drops out of my hand and tumbles in the air ever-so-slowly to the ground..  Remember in Old School when will Farrell gets shot with the tranquilizer and he is screaming in slow motion so his voice sounds like Buffalo Bill, (put the lotion in the basket)  that was me, nnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooo…, that’s not concrete, that’s a tree grate, NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!! 

I wanted to cry.



I have all this change in my hands that I must protect from joining their friend in change purgatory, I have to get that quarter and of course, Of. Course.  Here comes the bus.  I carefully put the change that I had in my hand in my pocket and look down…the quarter, I kid you not, is teetering on the edge of one of the grate bars, or whatever it’s called, and I just know at any second it going to commit to going all the way in and then – I’m screwed.  Please God, please God…Then, thankfully I was an Operation champ back in the day, I make my fingers into tweezers and carefully bend down to retrieve my quarter, my lifeline to class..  As I am going in for the gold, the bus pulls up and stops, I am going to miss this bus because I’m in the middle of this procedure and I can’t seem to get it, nurse, wipe my brow please…looking up, through the massive beads of sweat, are my eyes deceiving me?  Can it be that’s the express bus, not the 704?  Yessss….deep breath….back to the quarter, finally, shaking like I am going through withdrawals, I grab the quarter with my two fingers (makeshift tweezers), squeezing it so hard I nearly draw blood and maneuver my hand with the quarter in it, successfully bring it up to safety.

Exhale.

Why does everything have to be so hard?

More pressing, I need to understand how this transfer thing works, so I ask a guy waiting at the bus stop.  “Excuse me Sir?  I need to transfer at Fairfax to the 780 bus, do you know how I go about doing that?”  Big smile..
 “No.” 
Okay…..Guess I will figure this one out on the fly.  The 704 bus gets there, and I get on.  As I’m pouring my fare into the collection box, I ask the driver.  “Hi!  I’m first time rider, long time mass transportation lover, (laugh and flash a smile) and I am wondering if you can give me a transfer to the 780 bus, please.”  As he shuts the door and starts to drive, “we don’t do transfers.”
“Excuse me?  What?”  What did he just say?  They don’t do transfers?  “Uh…sorry Sir, what did you say?”
“I said, we don’t do transfers.” 

Everyone in the bus is giving me this look like, SIT DOWN IDIOT and I look back at the collection box, yeup, all my change is inside there.  So I sit down adjacent to the bus driver.  Okay,  I just put my $1.50 (all the cash I had in the world) into the collection box.  I have to transfer to the 780 bus, but apparently I can’t get a transfer ticket. 
Meanwhile…there is this guy sitting across from me on his phone, oh his phone, talking at the top of his lungs.  “Did you get my fax?  I faxed it this morning.  Yeah, this morning.  I faxed it.  Do you see it?  Did you get it?”  And he has mounds of papers piled on his lap.  “I faxed it already.  Do you see it.  Did you get it.”  I wanted, in the politest of neighborly fashion, to explain to the gentlemen, no, whomever you’re talking to didn’t get the fax.  But I opt not to.  I need to figure out how I am going to get on the 780 bus and I have 2 blocks to do so.

I lean forward and again, inform the bus driver this is my first time riding, meaning I have no freaking clue as to what I’m doing and I need some help. 
“Excuse me Sir?”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry, but I have never ridden the bus before and I am unclear how to transfer to the 780 bus.”
“You get off and get back on.”
“Uh..right, right but without a transfer slip, do I have to pay again.”
“Yeah.”
“Do buses take credit cards?”
“No.”
“Um, okay, uh, I actually just put all the change (point to the collection box) I have in the collection box to get on this bus.”
“So use two dollar bills.”
“Yeah, I don’t have any more cash.”

He’s silent, but not the guy across from me, going on and on about this fax.  No, no he didn’t get the fax, give it a rest dude.   Who faxes stuff anymore anyway?

Yeah, I am frustrated because no one is helping me, it’s 10:20, I have no cash and my plan of transferring at the next block is not going to happen.

Again, I reach out to the bus driver. 
“Sir, is there a way, to buy, maybe, a season pass for the bus?”
“Yeah.”
“Around here?”
“Go online and it will tell you.”
I don’t understand why this has to be so hard.  

“Okay, um, here’s the deal.  I need to get to 6500 block of Hollywood Blvd. and I have no cash to pay again on the 780 bus what I thought I would be able to do is to get a transfer see I’m from Houston and in Houston we have these little transfer tickets which is like an extension to the bus you are on if you’re going in the same direction which I thought would be the same here in LA I have a class that starts in 30 minutes and I can’t be late all I am asking for here is a little help from you because I am at a dead end and I don’t know what to do.  This is my first time riding the bus”     

“I don’t know anything about Houston buses,  I treat all riders the same.”
What?  WTF was that supposed to mean? 
Talk about being dazed and confused….
”Sorry Sir, What?”
“First time rider or been riding forever, I treat all riders the same.”
“Sir, I am not looking for any special privileges I just need some help getting to the 6500 block of Hollywood Blvd.”
Silence.
really???? Fine. 
I pull out my phone, GPS my location and figure out how to get there from the street I am on.  I realize I can ride the bus up to Highland Avenue and walk, sprint the mile and a half to Hollywood Blvd and pray I make it to class on time.

“Excuse me sir, does this bus go all the way up to Highland Avenue?”
“That’s what the map says” and point to the route map. 
Didn’t see that there.
“thanks.”
As we approach Highland, I am absolutely certain the guy on the phone is bat-shit crazy, I push the “request to stop” button, stand up, put on my backpack and prepare for my dash to class.
As I’m standing there, the bus driver stops, opens the door and I star to exit. 
“Hey”
Was he talking to me?
I turn back around “Yes?”
He motions across the street, “you can buy a bus pass over there, at that check cashing place.”
“Over there?” and I point to where he casually batted the air in the direction he said the check cashing place was.
“YES”
I look across the street, and there it is, like a gift from above, between Do-Nut Time and the all-you-can eat Indian buffet place, CHECK CASHING.

 FINALLY a breakthrough, “Thank you Sir.  Thank you very much and have a nice day.”  I appreciated his gesture of kindness at the last minute, very much…and I was psyched, I will hit the check cashing place, buy a bus pass, that way I have a means of getting home and will be on time to class, if I shake a leg.

I look up to take in the day, with the sun on my face, I smile and I realize -  all in all, that wasn’t too painful. 

I cross the street, proud of myself for thinking on the fly and “figuring it out,” walk up to the check cashing place and pull on the door to go in. 
Locked?  What time does it open??? I wonder.  I cup my hands around my eyes and press my face on the glass to look inside and see if I can beg my way in,
Vacant.
A ghost town that was once, in it’s days of glory, a place to buy bus passes and cash checks and pay your water bill.
Now a wasteland of check-stubs and half-filled out Western Union forms.

Damn.

I turn and begin speed walking up Highland, turn on to Hollywood and sprint to make it to my class. 

Time check, 10:56.


God I need to get my pin number. 

Until next post –
Caroline