I never judge you-not for being who you are, not for what you can or cannot feel, and not for anything you've done or are capable of doing.
Online Diary of my adventures.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Me
An amazing time with the most incredible girlfriends a girl could hope for tonight! TNT'S tomorrow night!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Burden of truth
Recently I shared a story of a friends betrayal by her boyfriend who turned out to be married, I think we can all agree that was the epitome of zero cool; definitely not "rock star" behavior as he was so fond of saying. It is my opinion that a true friend, someone who truly loves you will be honest with you no matter what and good, bad or indifferent will tell you what you need to be told, and not sugar coat it just to spare your feelings. I think that there are so many cases of fake perfection.
If you think your relationship is amazing and that your girlfriend is practically perfect because you don't fight and you always know what to expect from her when you walk in the door and she is very "even keel" that's great! Here's my question though..does she have a clue who you really are or has she fallen for the you that you sold her?
I think to truly love someone and to be loved for who you really are at your core; they MUST have the opportunity to know the real you, the good and the not so good. How is anyone supposed to make an informed decision about you and their future if you don't give them all the facts? So when your husband tells you he loves you, but he doesn't know all the secrets you are keeping from him or the mountain of lies you've told him, does he really love you or the you that you wish you could be? I think the answer is no.
I think if you called your spouse, or significant other and said okay here's the whole unvarnished story, here are all the lies unveiled, these are all the times I've cheated on you; or betrayed you that the "even keel; predictable and stable relationship" that you've grown to cherish and appreciate the stability and consistency of; will suddenly dissolve into a pile of ash. All too quickly your bird singing, happy fantasy land will turn into world war three.
So my theory is this; if you find someone who truly is your best friend, someone who you trust implicitly, and who you've shown your true self to, and they decide to love you anyway; that's the person you marry. To love someone after you've seen their dark side, that's real, but to love a façade; that's not real. I'm not saying it'll all be sunshine and roses when you have honesty 24/7 but at least it will be honest. Love isn't easy, it's very impassioned, and yes often difficult but it's oh so worth it to know that the person cuddling with you on the couch loves you for EXACTLY who you are, and they don't want to change you or "fix" you but will accept you, in all your glorious imperfections because they have their own.
I'd want the truth from you, I'd want to make the decision to be with you or not after you let your mask fall away, because it's my life, my future happiness you are messing with when you lie to me and make me fall for something fake, I implore you to be who you are and embrace that, don't you think if people see the real you that they won't like you; that they won't see your worth or redeemable qualities? Don't be a chicken shit, see the thing is, people who really love you will still be there no matter what you disclose, but don't take their choices from them, you aren't God, and you have no right to make someone waste their all too short but valuable time on this Earth, with a stranger.
Moral of this story guys and gals; tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth and see whose standing there in the aftermath; that's who loves you unconditionally.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Date an illiterate girl..by Charles Warnke
Date a girl who doesn’t read. Find her in the weary squalor of a Midwestern bar. Find her in the smoke, drunken sweat, and varicolored light of an upscale nightclub. Wherever you find her, find her smiling. Make sure that it lingers when the people that are talking to her look away. Engage her with unsentimental trivialities. Use pick-up lines and laugh inwardly. Take her outside when the night overstays its welcome. Ignore the palpable weight of fatigue. Kiss her in the rain under the weak glow of a streetlamp because you’ve seen it in film. Remark at its lack of significance. Take her to your apartment. Dispatch with making love.
Let the anxious contract you’ve unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi, and folk music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into it every time the air gets stale, or the evenings get long. Talk about nothing of significance. Do little thinking. Let the months pass unnoticed. Ask her to move in. Let her decorate. Get into fights about inconsequential things like how the fucking shower curtain needs to be closed so that it doesn’t fucking collect mold. Let a year pass unnoticed. Begin to notice.
Figure that you should probably get married because you will have wasted a lot of time otherwise. Take her to dinner on the forty-fifth floor at a restaurant far beyond your means. Make sure there is a beautiful view of the city. Sheepishly ask a waiter to bring her a glass of champagne with a modest ring in it. When she notices, propose to her with all of the enthusiasm and sincerity you can muster. Do not be overly concerned if you feel your heart leap through a pane of sheet glass. For that matter, do not be overly concerned if you cannot feel it at all. If there is applause, let it stagnate. If she cries, smile as if you’ve never been happier. If she doesn’t, smile all the same.
Let the years pass unnoticed. Get a career, not a job. Buy a house. Have two striking children. Try to raise them well. Fail, frequently. Lapse into a bored indifference. Lapse into an indifferent sadness. Have a mid-life crisis. Grow old. Wonder at your lack of achievement. Feel sometimes contented, but mostly vacant and ethereal. Feel, during walks, as if you might never return, or as if you might blow away on the wind. Contract a terminal illness. Die, but only after you observe that the girl who didn’t read never made your heart oscillate with any significant passion, that no one will write the story of your lives, and that she will die, too, with only a mild and tempered regret that nothing ever came of her capacity to love.
Let the anxious contract you’ve unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi, and folk music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into it every time the air gets stale, or the evenings get long. Talk about nothing of significance. Do little thinking. Let the months pass unnoticed. Ask her to move in. Let her decorate. Get into fights about inconsequential things like how the fucking shower curtain needs to be closed so that it doesn’t fucking collect mold. Let a year pass unnoticed. Begin to notice.
Figure that you should probably get married because you will have wasted a lot of time otherwise. Take her to dinner on the forty-fifth floor at a restaurant far beyond your means. Make sure there is a beautiful view of the city. Sheepishly ask a waiter to bring her a glass of champagne with a modest ring in it. When she notices, propose to her with all of the enthusiasm and sincerity you can muster. Do not be overly concerned if you feel your heart leap through a pane of sheet glass. For that matter, do not be overly concerned if you cannot feel it at all. If there is applause, let it stagnate. If she cries, smile as if you’ve never been happier. If she doesn’t, smile all the same.
Let the years pass unnoticed. Get a career, not a job. Buy a house. Have two striking children. Try to raise them well. Fail, frequently. Lapse into a bored indifference. Lapse into an indifferent sadness. Have a mid-life crisis. Grow old. Wonder at your lack of achievement. Feel sometimes contented, but mostly vacant and ethereal. Feel, during walks, as if you might never return, or as if you might blow away on the wind. Contract a terminal illness. Die, but only after you observe that the girl who didn’t read never made your heart oscillate with any significant passion, that no one will write the story of your lives, and that she will die, too, with only a mild and tempered regret that nothing ever came of her capacity to love.
Date a girl who reads..
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes and shoes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by God, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of cocoa and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, to her they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Or sitting on the bed of a truck on a cool Summer night.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone, and don't deserve her. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
By-Rosemarie Urquico a rebuttal to "Date an illiterate girl" by Charles Warnke
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by God, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of cocoa and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, to her they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Or sitting on the bed of a truck on a cool Summer night.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone, and don't deserve her. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
By-Rosemarie Urquico a rebuttal to "Date an illiterate girl" by Charles Warnke
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Safe
Click here for movie details. Let's just take a moment to reflect on Jason Statham! Next Friday is the release of Safe starring my personal favorite male actor. Yeah sorry Dwayne you don't have anything on this guy..
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