Screw the list….
“They” (those that call themselves “they”) say that if you write down a goal on a piece of paper and put the piece of paper away and never even look at it again, you are 75% more likely to accomplish that goal than if you hadn’t written it down at all. Along the same ball point pen, relationship gurus tell women that if you make a list of things you want in a partner (i.e. good cook, strong pectoral muscles etc…) you are more likely to bump into a stud holding a spatula and bowl of cake mix at your local watering hole. Uh..huh… soooooooooo…. I remember reading an article in O Magazine that rehashed the story of a woman who made “said list” and then met a man that had all the traits she wanted in him from owning a sail boat to owning only black socks (don’t ask.)
Now here’s the thing, I agree that there is something to be said for knowing what you want. I envy the women that can tell you to a “T” what their “type” of man is, from where he goes out to dinner, to the brand of artsy-flannel-don’t-give-a-care-but-I-really-care shirts he wears to the way he holds his coffee mug. Yes, I’m jealous cause obviously all the time I spend being neurotic, emo and adding fuzz into cyber space I could be crafting an artsy little imaginary boy toy that will never meet my expectations and then I would have an excuse to why I am single instead of the old adage, “It happens when it happens” which I have come to realize really means “I need more therapy for my ‘daddy issues.” N-e-waaaaayz….. But, here is where I have an issue (or at least one of my many issues), this list…
I believe making lists like these makes us all prone to putting people in boxes. I have found myself going on dates with men and saying, “Oh! Look there you’re a shy intellectual artsy guy and I like cowboys…I gotta dosey do out Picasso.” Suddenly I forget that I myself am an “artsy intellectual type.” Just because I’ve never dated a guy like this doesn’t make him not my type right? I mean the best things in life that I love now like my jobs, my friends, my faith, my home, the length of my hair…are all things that at one point in life I either despised, hated or just didn’t appreciate. Now, I “LOVE” them. Odd? Um, Yeah.
Anyway, so I have decided to “Screw the List” why don’t we go out on a ledge here and actually get to know men for who they are instead of their taste in music and ability to decipher between a Napa grape and a French grape. I’m gonna kick off this movement of “Screw the List” by naming the things I love about the MEN in my life. I’m doing this for myself mostly. I need to remember that people are more than a checklist. More than what I can get out of them. They are “people” complicated human beings that take time and energy to get to know. People who I can’t judge based on their favorite brand of shoes.
Rick Carlson – Rick is my bro-in-law. And besides having impeccable taste in little sisters,I love that Rick has a passion for repairing cars. And that he’s turned that passion into a hobby of taking in anyone’s car that needs to be worked on. Rick works 50-60 hour weeks and wakes up at 5 am to drive to L.A. from the OC and then heads back home after a 10 hour day. Instead of sleeping in on his Saturdays he instead wakes up at 5 am and starts to work on his friends and families neglected cars. I love that when he works on the cars he has a smile on his face and the only payment he asks for is the owners company. Ricks Lagit!
Bob Carlson- Is such a gentleman that his wife of 50 years thought he was gay for their first 5 dates cause he didn’t try to make a move. Self control is hot!
Dave Downey – My other brother-in-law and dad of 3 boys. Now, Dave is one of those “OMG there goes a hot fire fighter!” Fire-fighters. But, besides lookin’ good in a suit and carrying a hose (which just grosses me out to say…ew…he’s my brother.) I think the saying “Kindness goes a long way” is the most appropriate thing I could say about Dave. Dave is just one of those “Perfect 10’s” that you expect to be an a**hole. He’s intelligent, he’s respected, he’s got a prestigious job, hes good lookin’, he’s got a good lookin’ family and all his ducks in a row. USUALLY someone of this stature is pretty cocky and full of themselves. They know their hot to trot and show it. But, Dave is the kindest most down to earth guy you’ll ever meet. When you talk to him you are reminded that the simple acts of civility and courteous can go along way.
Joel Griffith – You know the cool thing about Joel is he is wickedly smart. Well read and educated on everything from Aprhodite to Zuma. Yet, when I have a conversation with him and don’t know something you would never know. He never tries to make me feel stupid or less than.
Tyler Woods – Is a respectable and intelligent leader of my LifeGroup. He lives above reproach which is something I can’t sign up for, but he does it with class and integrity. The man lives with integrity and humility and he loves his baby daughter. Big brownie sundae points!
Tyler Waldron – Opens doors, walks on the outside of the sidewalk and is cool about watching Project Runway with the girl. Not full of himself, but still confident, kind and kinda funny (sometimes 
A good man.
Apoetnomadali- Had a dream and WORKS to make it happen.
Frank Nava – My grandfather had the guts and courage to immigrate into the U.S. By swimming the Rio Grande and catching snakes and eating them just to survive so him and his 8 and 10 year old little brothers could have a better life in America. Freakin’ Gladiator!
I’ll try and add more to this later…I mean there are a ton of people I could name here like: Mitch Gonzales – Who is patient with kids and passionate about his art.
Howard Radcliffe– Who has the ability to make everyone he meets feel special and important.
John Brokenshire – Who is freakin’ crazy and moved to India because he just wanted to help people.
Chris Prosser – The “man’s man” of the century who pursued my friend Jeannette for seven long years! And is probably the most romantic man next to Romeo.
Funny how writing makes you feel better isn’t it? I set out to write about lists and talk about how freakin’ angry and mad I am at society and I have finished quite happy. Happy that I can see that there are still “Good Men” out there. That the a**holes really aren’t the majority. That I am surrounded by men who strive for the best in themselves and in others. I realize that though these men are “mine” I am blessed to have them in my life. That just the way they live their lives and the way they challenge my sisters, friends and co-workers makes this world a much better place. Thank you to all of you strong, courageous men who have taken the noble yet harder road. Thank you.
India thoughts…part of 1 of ?
I got back from a missions trip to India with ROCKharbor about 6 days ago. I didn’t have much culture shock being there. Though the circumstances the people lived in were painful to see, I have seen poverty and need like that before. I fully embraced my time in India and have never before felt so completely and freely “me.” The shock came when I returned home to Southern California, my positive spirit, meaningful purpose and heart of generosity seemed to not jive with the energy of So Cal. Here I am not surrounded 24-7 with people on a mission to spread love to every person they encounter. Here I am not being challenged to live in uncomfortable conditions and put my self centeredness aside to care for the needs of others. Here I am not surrounded by people who want to protect me and carry on spiritual and philosophical discussions with me. But, this is my home and I believe there is a reason why I was born an American woman.
I’m not saying that missionary work is easy and that it’s all rainbows and ponies, but life is easy when we’re all on the same page with a somewhat “same mission.” The challenge for me being home is keeping that “mission” mentality at the forefront of my mind and still interacting with the people around me who are simply going about living their daily lives.
I went on a date last night. It was hard. It was hard because I feel like this trip was like a putting me in a washing machine per-say. I was thrown in and washed (total pun intended) and given a glimpse to see what God wants for my life. Now, I’m home lets say, “In the dryer” (you love this don’t lie) and I’m still drying, still trying to clearly form what I have learned with who I am and somehow find who God really wants me to be. And, please let me just clear the air on the subject. I think it’s quite flattering that my friends and family think I’m such a “good person” for doing missions work. Please, honestly, anyone can raise $3500 and board a trip to India and play with children and hug people. I’m NO SAINT. I’ve decided that I’m just a woman on a journey. On a journey with God trying to make sense of it all. It’s funny, I’m known by many friends and even husbands of my friends as “the girl with the questions.” I’m always trying to fit things, people, days and religions into a box. But, the only one I haven’t pegged away yet is God and I kind like it that way. I have a peace in the unknowing. Kind of like a little girl fast asleep in the backseat of a car. She doesn’t know where she’s going, if her parents are driving safely or if a semi truck is going to crash into the car, but she sleeps soundly trusting that she is taken care of.
“like the FAITH of a CHILD…”
I think DATING is….
just another humorous way God has concocted to humble, obnoxious and self will run riot women like myself (as well as keep the global economy going with the international importation of quality denim) Here we go… wish me luck!
When did Barbie become a hooker?
So yesterday I sauntered on into Target on my lunch break and moseyed my way down aisle 6, the infamous Barbie “Porn” aisle. I was a woman on a mission to pick up Barbie’s and warm clothes for the 5 year old lil’ Latina I was assigned from the “Giving Tree Family” my lifegroup adopted from church. We adopt a family and then each person in the group finds stuff to contribute to the whole Santa Bag of gifts. Like a Good Christian Girl I got the 5 year old Chiquita, undoubtedly named, “Maria” with braids and one missing front tooth (FYI: I just made all that up for your visual delight. You’re welcome) so the first Barbie I see featured on display as the bookend aisle product, is “Santa’s Helper Barbie.” Let me give you the low down of what Barbie was NOT wearing. Home girl looked like she was wearing one of them hoochie Halloween, “Santa’s Naughty Helper” get-ups. She’s in a strapless, red dress; sexy white boa fur lines the rim of her breasts and the hem of her skirt. She is also wearing 3-inch stilettos (well if she was a real life doll the stilettos would be 3 inches) Now, when Barbie was switching over from a Princess to a Hooker did I also miss the fact that the North Poll warmed over? Cause by the amount of skin the sexy little “Santa’s Helper” was showing I can only conclude that she was either a.) Ready to go get a tan or b.) Ready to jump in the sac with Saint Nick. And trust me, if you saw this doll you would agree. She is the epitome of the “other woman” and if Santa is goin’ for the “hoe, hoe, hoe type” He definitely got it.
Ok, so it can’t be worse, right? Oh no, it’s worse, much worse. I found myself standing in the middle of aisle 6 staring at the menagerie of Lolita, Barbie Porn stars. These girls were dressed in A-symmetrical cocktail dresses, not pink, not purple…we’re talking red and black cocktail dresses! And the one or two dresses that did have a hint of girlyness to them (meaning a hue of a pastel color) were skin tight and covered in sequins! Barbie did not look ready for tea, no. She looked like she was getting sponsored by Fredericks of Hollywood and on her way to sip cocktails at an event at the Playboy mansion!
Ya know it’s not so much the clothes that the doll is wearing that bothers me its who the doll is for that bothers me. This girl is 5 and she’s not only 5, but she’s an underprivileged child. She is getting Christmas gift aide because her family struggles financially. She’s already got the odds against her, financially burdened, probably both parents working, stressed and struggling and she is most likely left alone or without them for long periods of time. She is expected to play games and entertain herself in their absence. What will she entertain herself with? Porno Barbie! She will roll play herself as this doll. She will pretend that she is going on hot dates, with hot boys, going to hot clubs and drinking hot drinks! How on earth is that child going to learn to get out of the position her family is in if her role model is a hooker?
My pickins’ were slim when it came finding something for little, “Maria” considering my prerequisite for a purchase were clothes not formerly seen on a commercial for 1-900-BOOTY-CALL. I opted to go with a “Nature Bike Barbie” who came complete with a bike, helmet and get this, Pants! And “Fairy Barbie” caught my eye. She did have a strapless, “breastalicious” top on with a negligee of a skirt, but (yawn) She’s a fairy. Their known to be scandalous. I hope that when “Maria” plays with these Barbie’s she will see herself riding a bike on the beach with her friends. She will look at the fairy and be intrigued on where they come from and learn to draw them. I pray that these dolls will encourage her imagination and deepen the dreams she has for herself and her family.
Merry Early Christmas!
Xoxo
27 year itch
27 years on planet earth and no ones kicked this woman off yet, throwing my heels and purse behind me. That’s kind of an accomplishment yeah? I’ll go with yeah. “They” (those that are “they”) say 27 is a hard year. I spoke with one of “they” a 34-year-old dude who was in my evening religious studies class in college. He said, “27 is a hard one. You start evaluating what you thought your life would be like and what it is. More often than not people are disappointed with what it is.” Nineteen and naïve I asked, “Why?” He said, “Well you find that things you wanted to accomplish in life are a lot harder to accomplish than you thought and maybe even you’ve missed your boat to success.” My thoughts at 19? “Lose the windbreaker old man and I’ll buy you a shot with my fake ID…you need one.”
But, in all honesty when I turned 27-yesterday morning I did wake up with an “itch”. A discontentment if you will. I would like to pawn it off straight to my father for repeatedly telling me over the past 4 months…”You gotta get pregnant HonestChitChat! Women who have children after 30 have a higher risk of developing ovarian cancer. I am worried about you getting cancer. (He lets out a dramatic sigh of dissaproval and scratches his head as if I have passed my itch to him… like this…
cute huh? )I am worried about you getting cancer. Leave it to daddy to put, cancer, sex and mortality all in the same sentence. Then there’s that AMAZING children’s book I wrote that’s been rejected from 5 publishers….the writing career I’m sitting on….the charity that’s taking a gazillion years for me to start up with the articles of incorporation sitting in a lawyers office…the fact that I don’t have a “career” but starting today 4 part time jobs….and no home boy to say, “honey I’m home!” to. My itch is turning into a rash.
Cause like what if there really is a bald spot on the back of my head that’s grossing out potential suitors, that no body is telling me about? What if my writing is just more Internet commotion adding to the loco motion? What if my inability to focus in an office environment of fluorescent lights and wear khaki pants and collared shirts 4 days a week keeps me in 4 part time jobs with no health insurance! OMG! I feel the need for an anti-biotic. What kind of freakin’ life is that right?…I guess it would be my 27 year old life and ya know, now that I think about it….. that ain’t so bad. I mean I’m not advocating no health insurance (BTW Obama baby…make it happen) But, I am saying there comes a point in all of our lives that we need to take full responsibility for our birds nest and the twigs that it is. (I’m still itchy!)
When I was a little honestchitchat with pigtails and white pinafores I used to take loooooooooong drives all over the place with my mom and dad. One day we were driving in Downtown LA. (Where when I needed to go to the bathroom they would pull over, grab a newspaper to cover my caboose and tell me to go in the gutter of Sunset Boulevard, but that’s another story) I started getting nauseous from the up and down from the potholes in the street I asked my mom, “Why are they always fixing the streets in Newport Beach when they are already fixed and not fixing these streets? These streets need them more. My stomach hurts mom.” My mom laughed at my observation and looked at me in the rear view mirror and said, “Tax dollars cutie. The people in Newport make more money and are taxed more so they can put more money into their own city.” I replied, “They should share with LA!” Mom’s reply, “That’s not how it works.” What I gather from that conversation is, my life, my surroundings are the result of how much time and work I put into my goals. No one else can change my life, but me. If I was to guess, I would say that the itch derives from the the thought, “Man I still have more work to do? When can I just move to Costa Rica, drink my pina colada, write for ½ the day and lay out for the rest?” Maybe the itch would have some reprieve if it got that super cool ointment called “Man I still have a lot of work to do and dude, I’m so excited to do it!” I will not focus on the destination; instead I will enjoy the journey.
I will not focus on the destination; instead I will enjoy the journey.
I will not focus on the destination; instead I will enjoy the journey.
I will not focus on the destination; instead I will enjoy the journey.
I will not focus on the destination; instead I will enjoy the journey.
So I almost died today…
To the old man with balding white hair, glasses, wearing the black windbreaker and drinking his coffee while he was barreling down Cliff Drive in Newport Beach this morning while you drove an oversized, raised Ford F150 that screeched before it almost hit me in the crosswalk I would like to say a few words to you… I REALLY DON’T LIKE YOU and THANK YOU.
I REALLY DON’T LIKE YOU because you put me into fear of paralysis and wheelchair aerobics to the tune of Richard Simons for the rest of my existence and THANK YOU because you gave me one of the 3rd biggest wake up calls of my life……
How much time have I spent past and present obsessing over the imperfections of my body? Way too much. How much time have I argued that if only I ran 6 miles a day and not just 3, my life would be so much better? Insanely too much. How often have I been thankful that all of my limbs work and are fully functioning? Not enough. How often do I thank God for making me a healthy, beautiful woman who can go get any job and travel anywhere in the world without physical hesitations? Never…until today.
When I saw the crosswalk sign flash the little blue person walking I didn’t look both ways I simply, arrogantly ran. Taking for granted that not only could I walk, but I could run and that given the present space and time I was fully desrving of running and not getting hit by a car or a truck for that matter. But, that truck came so close to me that I just froze as it halted just a foot away from my whole body. I was smack dab in front of it. How lucky am I that I wasn’t hit? How lucky am I that I writing this blog without a scratch on my body. So lucky. Sooo sooo sooo lucky!
Today, I am grateful that that truck almost hit me because it has put my body into a new perspective to me. All day I have seen my hands typing, making art, picking up a child, hugging a friend, I have seen my feet walk to my car to go buy my favorite Pumpkin Spice Latte and hold the arm of a little girl while her Dad and I swing her in the air on 1…2….3!!!!! I’m grateful for my body just the way it is today…healthy. It’s my goal to accept my body just the way it is….beautiful, healthy and perfect in this very moment.
Thank you again little old man with “Big Truck Syndrome” you gave me a gift by almost mauling me into Dover Drive….the gift of “Gratitude for the moment.” Thank you..thank you…thank you…
xoxo
HonestChitChat
20 year old toddler dates 27 year old guy…Problem?
So I have this guy friend, lets call him….”Baari” he’s 27 and he’s dating this ”child” that is 20, I fondly like to call her “Toddler.” I have a problem with “Baari” dating “Toddler”, not because I’m single and jealous and not because ”Baari” is totally in love with me and resentfully killing his time with the naive toddler receptionist in his office until I come around, but because he’s stressin over a girl who can’t even place an order at a fine dining establishment without having mommy or daddy vouch for her. That…”Toddler” is not what an accomplished man of 27 dates. I mean at least go for 22, but 20? I mean do you guys remember 20? I do. (Well of the parts where I wasn’t blacking out during Spring Break in Mexico, I do.) At 20 I was a docu-drama style dramatic, boy crazy, shizophrenic mess, high on diet pills and earining $12 an hour working at Nordstroms and going to school part time to get my Bachelors. In other words at “20″ I was a candidate for a ratings winning reality show, not a candidate for “Trophy wife of the year in the Bay Area.”
As a young girl who grew up with 4 sisters and a mom who at 35 married my dad who was 65, I was definitely encouraged to “Date older men.” I definitely can see why. Older guys have their act together, their mature, their chilvarous, they will treat you like a lady and can 99% of the time control their bodily functions in public and their urges to get you to do a body shot with them have somewhat ceased to exist. But, who gets the short end of the stick when the mature older guy dates a ditzy, confused “toddler”? The GUY.
I spend a whole lotta time on this blog putting the ladies on a pedestal and puttin’ the gents on the hot seat of “Are you good enough for us?”, but for once I’m gonna stick up for you guys. Don’t sell yourself short. Find yourself someone of your caliber, otherwise you have this drama to look forward to….. Check out “Baari” and me chat about “Toddler” the other night on GChat. Girl has the man whipped.
10:20 PM Baari: helooooo
me: Are you talking to the toddler again?
10:21 PM Baari: hahahahaha
good question
not quite yet… but check this out.
me: im gonna be such a good mom.
Baari: so……
hahaha
you are
check it yo
me: spill
10:23 PM Baari: like…. last weekend, she wanted to talk to me.. so we met up and talked for a while…………. basically she got back with her ex (for 2 days she says) and realized that she was not in love with him, like right away…. she felt confused and her feelings she says were just missing him and … whatever… was a month after her break up and they were together for 3 1/2 years or something… … me and her saw each other like what a month or so, and it was literally day 1 after their break up….. so anyways…. she feels bad blah blah for hurting me etc… like horrible, it eats away at her… and she just kept saying how it was bad timing, that she really thinks we had something special, and she does really like me and has for a long time…. but was just really confused…..
she wants to “start over” and regain my trust……… and do whatever I want at my pace I guess……and she is 100% sure her and her ex are not meant to be now, and she realized she was not in love with him.
she kept talking about how me and her had a spark or something and that her ex or soemthign were missing that… blah blah blah
10:25 PM so I told her we should not talk for a whatever, a week or two or something and then maybe we can try to be friends again first and see…..
The man is 27 and putting up with this. Gentleman, I understand you need to “Take care of business” but at the expense of a tantrum throwing, dramatic toddler who wants to play in both playgrounds? I know men like a little spice, but come on…for once be like your buddy George Bush…go blow something up in the desert if you want some drama. Just make sure the area is clear of people…and toddlers
The Wolfs out of the bag…What men can learn from Edward and Jacob…
First of all Stephanie Meyer is an amazing romantic novelist and I don’t recall ever reading the cheesy line, “The wolfs out of the bag?” in New Moon. Watchout screenwriters cause I’m gonna “suck the dollar sign out of your paycheck.” Sorry …Anyway, so MEN! I think ya’all can learn a thing or two about courting the ladies from the Twilight saga. Though the masses of you have responded to the suggestion of reading the novels with the classic phrase, “I’m not Gay!” I think a step into the Cullen’s closet might get you some game.
So lets take it from the top. I saw New Moon in Newps last night with my gal pals from the “Were super intelligent and enjoy ready challenging books, but we use 1/3 of our time talking about Robert Pattinson and Twilight book club” Yeah so while waiting in line I mentioned to my friend Jamie that I totally did not understand what the fascination is with Jacob Black (Just in case you’re in the dark Bella, the beautiful hot chick in the movie is torn between two men, Jacob and Edward.) I mean I understand that between him and Edward Jacob is definitely the more fun, outgoing, carefree guy, but Edward is Mr.Strong, stoic, put together and yeah maybe a tad over protective and serious, but at the end of the day a woman wants to feel like her man is a “MANS MAN” he is calm, composed, in control of his actions and has her best interests at heart. Jacob is uncontrollable, stubborn and selfish BOY. He totally wanted Bella because it would make him happy, not her.
To me Jacob represents all the guys I have dated from clubs and bars. The guys who were a ton of fun, nice to look at, great to argue with, got my fire going and my adrenaline pumping but never really panned out. Why? Cause they’re boys. I don’t want to be in a relationship with a boy, I work with them everyday, I teach them and wipe their bottoms and let me tell you, they are a lot of WORK. Just think of the amount of time Bella is constantly arguing with Jacob trying to get her point across. Yeah, she argues with Edward, but Edwards always right
Anyway, if I could give any advice to the kind and sweet men that lament to me about the how sick and tired they are of lame girls who just want to dance, party, hook up and peace out I would ask them to consider what kind of vibe their giving out themselves? Are you being a Jacob or an Edward? Don’t forget Edwards the one strattling the girl up top.
Love you guys!
HonestChitChat
Moms and Egg Nog
When it comes to the holidays there are two types of people out there; those that love egg nog and those that hate it. When it comes to woman there are also two types, those that think their mom is the smartest woman on earth and those that believe that their mom is the most dysfunctional woman on earth. Where you are in your life depends on what side of the holly-trimmed teacup you sit on. But, the feelings are usually pretty passionate either “Love” or “Hate”, “Adore” or “Despise” “Britney Spears” or “Hillary Clinton” not hard to mistake the two.
As women grow their tastes change, some (like me) start to see warm delicious egg nog as “calories” and some (like me) start to see smart and sweet mommy as “an idiot.” Both of these phases lasted me longer than I’m proud of. Oddly just last week I saw some “Lite Egg Nog” at Trader Joe’s. I considered crossing back over into Egg Nog territory and bought it. I poured myself a glass, heated it up, sprinkled it with nutmeg and sat down to do my evening writing. While at my desk I took a sip and pulled my mouth away from the cup thinking, “Lite” ain’t the real thing. Real eggnog is thick, sweet and full of rich cream and sugar, not runny skim milk and Splenda. Coincidentally I also talked to my mom this week. I was talking to her about some projects and jobs I have going on and she bluntly asked me, “What going on with your writing? Where does that fit in?” It was like the burning bush I hadn’t seen until she said, “Look!” I haven’t been writing in awhile and I haven’t even had a heart to heart with my mom in awhile, but isn’t it funny, as much as I can talk to my friends and mentors about life, goals, career etc… only my mom, “The real thing” can hit the nail on the head within 2 minutes of a conversation?
Now, I am all for a balanced diet and I am all for having multiple mentors in my life, but I’m thinking that sometimes it takes just a little bit of the real thing to hit the spot.
Ya know I was just remembering that at the ripe bold age of 4, wearing my red dress with the plastic pocket that held the 4 fake, decorative crayons, (I loved that dress!) I returned home from kindergarten. From the looks of the jolly evidence of my usually glamorous mom wearing no makeup in sherbet orange sweats (gotta love the 80’s), our house covered with brown boxes, garlands and the sound of the automatic ringing Christmas bells playing Joy to the World I realized Christmas had arrived. Just then with the excitement of Rachel Ray trying Italy’s best Sausage, my mom joyfully told me “I made egg nog!” She poured a very thick and yellow substance from a plastic jug of milk. I tried it and it tasted funny. My mom was an amazing chef and I knew that even though her egg nog didn’t taste the same as the store bought egg nog, that it was still good and even though my mom wasn’t as glamorous without high heels and make-up she was still the most beautiful woman I knew.
The “Anti” 20 Somethings…
You should have seen the inside of my brain as I tried to figure out what to call this post. It went something like this, “20 something slackers?…I’m no slacker! ….20 Something crisis…no that’s specifically for “23” The 20 something blacksheep? I’m such a black sheep…The case of the 20 Something Delay….no…..grrrrrr…I’m losing my mind…Latte Time.” Alas my latte and I have called this post “The Anti- 20 Somethings” And heres why…
So in todays world it’s a pretty coveted age to be a “20 Something” some of us just finished college and found ourselves in the great US of A with the internet and Mac coming up with new gadgets, apps and faster modes of social media this makes the ambitious, go getters of us all really have the oyster served Ocean Cold with a nice bottle of Syrah to go with it.
I know them “Oyster eatin’ people” some are my like my good friend Milan at www.furniturefromhome.com. We (Yes, Milan I said “we” cause I was your very first employee so technically “we” )started that company in the family office of his parents house while I worked from a laptop and he from desktop while his mother played Soduku on the other desktop. And look at him now! Milan is definitely a 20 Something “Go Getter.” Me on the other hand, I am of the later 20 somethings. I am the (cue scary music) “Anti” 20 something.
I am one of those just rebellious, dramatic, addictive personalities that take 6 years and 5 colleges to finish a 4 year degree. Then, when I do get my degree in Photo-Communications (pretty much a degree in Photo Journalism) I decide or scream, “I don’t want to do that!” So I head on over to Milans house, do some web content writing, blogging and chat with his mom and play Soduku. And in the past almost 4 years since graduating college I’ve hopped around a bit, start up company, trip to Europe, rehabilitation (oh did I forget that?) and now three part time jobs, art teacher, counselor and nanny. I love them all, but their not exactly “Big girl jobs” For one their all hourly and two their ain’t no 401 K that goes along with the bubbles in the park, you get me?
But, alas I am not alone. I have a group of friends that are even more Anti-20 Something than me. Their actually even OLDER than me…their like 28! And what are the daily deeds of these intelligent, educated, masters carrying, credential owning college graduates? Their waiters, their office assistants, their gallery assistants and their….now this might shock you…brace yourself…their HAPPY. Crazy, I know. Well to me anyway. You see I grew up in Orange County, CA. Forgive me, but yes, “The home of the OC.” Here we have an unspoken motto that is ingrained in every childs head upon putting on their first white Ralph Lauren Polo “Good. Better. Best. Never let it rest.” To me, waitress is not the “Best.”
But, being the truth seeker I am I have gotten to know this group of intelligent misfits and to my surprise I have found that they aren’t a bunch of lazy bafoons. They are not the victims of overspending, bliss following and just getting by. They are how do they say it? “Carving their own path.” You see cubicles, the 9 to 5, awkward Holiday parties with the dude that eats with his mouth open and 10 hours of lesson planning for 5 figures is not what entices this group. Though their daily occupation may not reflect their education the smiles on their faces reflect the honestly in their lives. These “Anti 20 Somethings” have refused to follow the path of unfulfilled lives. On their off time from waiting tables they write, pursue their art, drink some wine, read and eat. They don’t have all the answers they know they are passionate about literature, art, poetry and travel and their humble enough to say, “And I don’t know what I’m going to do with that.”
My friend Jamie told me the other night, “Do you remember when we were 5 and told people, “I want to be a ballerina” they would say, “You are going to be the best ballerina there is! You can do whatever you want! Do it!” Now we say, “I want to be a ballerina!” and everyone says, “Well what are you going to do with that? That isn’t practical. You should do this….” It’s like I turned 20 and now I have to give up my dreams open a bank account and chain myself to a desk?”
I love that. And I love the “Anti-20 Somethings.” It’s always the “Antis” who get the biggest stuff accomplished ya know? Like that little thing called, Women Voting, Abolishing Segregation in Schools oh yeah and the story about that one guy, Jesus was it? Total misfit, that one. Yeah, I like the Anti-20 Somethings. I’m proud to be one. I’m proud of my 3 jobs. I’m proud to be a college graduated nanny and a hourly paid art teacher that gets told by someone only 3 years older than me not to use the word fornicate around young children. I am the anti and I am proud! How about you? Are you a misfit?
Xoxo Your Homegirl and fellow Anti, HonestChitChat
