Give and Take

Whether networking, dating, being friendly or otherwise, life seems to be about what you can gain from either a person or situation. Know the right people, be in the right place at the right time, and leave your mind open so as to capitalize on the right opportunity. Scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.

All three aforementioned social circumstances, however, involve giving something of yourself in order to keep gaining whatever it is that you want. Whether its more contacts, more sex, or the impression that more people like you, it's this idea of validation that keeps things rolling. If people know who you are, you will likely get whatever it is that you want.

Some people give more than they take, others take more than they give. When you really think about it, both stances are completely self-serving. Interestingly, both stances stand to lose a lot more than they expect. Whether or not it is realized is the question.

Along with family and a general morale, I have always believed in balance. Without balance comes chaos. If one cog in the machine is loose, you have to replace it.

I have had a general luck with other people as far as balance and chaos is concerned. I tend to befriend people who are as balanced as I am. Sure, we've all got our neuroses and worries about how we come across to the other. We're cranky and get irked with each other but in the end we fit pretty damned well. Relationships are a lot more interesting. Strong intellectual connections serve as foreplay to a form of sexual expression that, well, needs expressing, and often. Professionally I am able to do the job, but sometimes am too eager, optimistic. Very much "I'm the Guy" without being a kiss-ass. That said, if given the chance, I manage to impress. In all cases I'd like to think I give my fair share in an attempt to show that I am worth taking a chance on. In short, I am not a user - and so I give.

So imagine how the idea of being considered disposable makes my stomach turn. Dependent on circumstance, in the instance when things end, are redefined by omission, or are no longer mutual, I tend to wonder if I gave all that I could, if there was something I could have done differently. Only now am I realizing that I give just enough - that it's up to others to give as much or merely take. That it's not worth feeling horrible because in my experience, you can never successfully hold a mirror in front of a habitual user's face.

If only there were a scientific balance for flesh-and-blood relations. I'd like to think that my conundrum and pseudo-self-analyzation will contribute to someone else's million dollar idea.

Revival

I have decided to breathe some life into this thing because as of late, life in itself has been far too interesting. Yes, I realize that "interesting" is a relative term, that's why they call this personal blogging. In addition to being interesting, I have also found it to be absolutely hilarious - both in good and bad connotations - so much so that to not resurrect this thing would be a completely inappropriate move.

Since I last updated here, my relationship status has been set to single for the first time in three and a half years. I didn't realize how huge a part of my life being a couple was until recently trying my hand at dating/casual "interactions". Naturally, after a paltry three months of testing the waters (and diving in - thanks, Jack Daniels), I'm feeling kind of spent. First of all, the germophobe in me has never taken kindly to waiting any length of a three-month window period. Secondly, we all can't be Samantha Jones, or hell, even Miranda Hobbes (who, face it, got a lot of action in seasons 2 and 3 of Sex & the City). Were that there were really a balance... in attempting to broaden my social circle, I intend to find that out.

Since last updating here, I have also severed ties with the corporate world - or rather, they have with me. After five years of living in the shadow of multiple mergers I'm growing accustomed a somewhat flexible schedule consisting in part of meeting deadlines for the websites I contribute to (BeatCrave.com and WorkingAuthor.com), among other things. That said, I am either super busy or not at all, with the lack of corporate consistency proving to be a godsend as well as weighing heavily on the nerves.

I am also trying out some personal projects, one of which has garnered attention within the Los Angeles bicycling community (and surrounding counties); others involving a novel and two screenplays - the latter two ventures I will need to seek out a mentor for, I'm sure. I really have no idea what I'm doing. At this stage, I am merely trying, with not yet too bad an outcome. We'll see what takes place in the next six months.

One of the aforementioned projects - being a transportation/bicycling blog - is my pride and joy, as it mostly revolves around my adventures without a car in Los Angeles. Needless to say, it provides a lot of material and has been given backbone support by the interwebs. That said, with all the writing I've been doing (for at least the last twelve years) I hope to get into personal writing again... as well as quip on life, love, pop culture and politics in general, or whatever else may arise.

I remember once saying that my mind is a minefield of snippets. I guess it never hurts to watch your step.

Re-vamp

So. I'm wondering what to do with this blog. Either leave it here and move to another one, or re-vamp this one in the new year to discuss what I really want to talk about. The question, however, is this: what do I want to talk about?

I, myself, right now, am all of the following:

a writer
a friend
a daughter
a girlfriend
a runner
a cyclist
a car-less Angeleno (but more so a Valley girl)
a dance freak
a reader
a gym rat
a reccesionista (hello, fashion)
a learner

I love to eat, go to museums, watch movies, go to concerts, garden, shop, play with patterns, analyze friendships/relationships/media, go to clubs. What in the world do I focus on?

Very few readers of mine, in this last week of 2009, I will figure it out. And in 2010, hopefully you will have some thick juicy content to use and inform others to your heart's content.

Soggy, unromantic me

There was a time when I considered rain to be romantic. When I was a little girl I used to wander out in our prone-to-flooding family backyard in waterproof boots and what - a nightshirt? Flannel pants? School clothes? - I'd often wade in the marshy portions of grass, whose organism count had risen with the inches of rainwater... and while everyone else in the neighborhood would be lining their abodes with sandbags, I would be in the grass, wondering what it would be like if John Malkovich as Mr. Hyde would spirit me away from the Valley to the wet, foggy streets of 19th century London to the life of God knows what unspeakable horror.

Yes, conveniently, I would have just watched "Mary Reilly" for perhaps the fourth or fifth time. So maybe I have major issues as to what I find romantic.

As a woman, I can admire greatly the typical idea of romance from afar. Not to say that, as a woman, I am a sentimental fiend, but I can appreciate the things that make one go "aww", since most of life's routine ins and outs don't behold that response. I'd say my favorite recollection of romance would be roses sent to a co-worker on her birthday. Who couldn't notice the contrast of golden yellow petals flecked with red, just sitting there against the grey-beige of her desk. I've never received roses at work before, and that's okay. I've received reciprocated rated-X text messages, but that's about it.

Friggin' romance: in conversations with others, it seems I'm a little jaded for my twenty-something profile when it comes to things like hand-holding, lip-locking, gift-giving, and interpersonal exchanges of words. It's beyond obvious how I'd like to think that romance isn't chocolates or diamonds or hand holding in public places. Whatever, however. Familiarity, camaraderie, in the muck with me. This is romance... unless I'm entirely mistaken?

Bonus round: What do you define as "romantic"?

I'm kinda busy (but not really)

It's not exactly been public knowledge, but I was laid off a week ago tomorrow. I'd known for about 3.5 months prior. Even still, it's been an interesting ride, the aftermath. Work, as much as I despised what the company I worked for became, was something that I did every day, something that I was good at, and something that I was thankful to bring a paycheck home from.

It's been nearly a week, and I've done all the things I wished I could've done from the confines of my cubicle: cleaned, done laundry, rode my bike, run, gone to the mall, to the movies, to the bank - hell, yesterday a friend and I went to City Hall for a meeting on cycling and transportation. I think I've done it all. Tomorrow I intend to meet my boyfriend for lunch and spend the better part of the weekend with him.

I've got so much time and I don't know what to do with it.

If anything, I hope in the next month to:

train my body to be accustomed to higher speeds on my bicycle
to write, write, write, no matter what it is
to ride, ride, ride, no matter where or for whatever reason
to help put together one of the floats for the upcoming Tournament of Roses
to organize my closet and donate whatever I don't want to the Salvation Army
and to learn to make meals to nourish both myself and my roommates, because why the hell not?

Other than that... I think that save for education, the internet, electricity, and other modern conveniences, I might go crazy.

/cry for help

Really?

I just wanted to say that I'm happy to be viewed as a writer by my friends and fellow writers and others who - dare I say - depend on feedback, on analyzation. I am thankful for retaining a pseudo-creative way in validating a bias without the one reading being the wiser. I am happy to promote those I want to see do well, so long as the favor is returned (credit on a first and last name basis, please). Despite my doubts about my work and my relative ability, something tells me that this is standard criteria, this distrust and disbelief in self. I don't believe in fate, but I do believe that so long as someone has the drive, most anything is possible.

Yeah, I said it.

Lacking the drive

So based on the way my blog has been booming in entries (not), it goes without saying that I've not been that inspired to let the world in on my opinions on the things that don't seem to matter so much in the greater scheme of things. That and I've just been too busy. Not recording a multi-platinum album or writing a best-selling novel brand of busy by any means. Pretty much, if it takes more than 140-160 characters to get across, it hasn't been that important. This, obviously, needs correcting.

Anyway, with that said, I had an observation this evening. My friend's been in New York for the last two weeks, and instead of his parking his truck at the airport for that length of time, I've been taking charge of its operations until he returns. Generally, since I take the bus, bicycle, or walk where I need to go, I've only driven it a handful of times since he's been away. This evening, however, I drove to my folks' house to pick up something, and on my way there I couldn't help but think that - even though I've driven very little since I got my driver's license - I'm a safe, cautious, practical driver. Never driving much over or under the speed limit, always using directionals, leaving a car length in front of me for each 10 mph when on the freeway, etc - what I consider to be reasonable rules of the road in which to avoid unnecessary accidents.

Living in Los Angeles, while it's not impossible to get by without the use of a vehicle, the majority of the population utilizes these readily available four-wheeled conveniences. Whether a personal, company, rented or borrowed vehicle, to have one at your disposal in order to get from Point A to Point B without relying on timetables is a nice feeling. As a result, nearly everyone in Los Angeles has a car. Nearly everyone.

I'm sitting here, wondering if I can get my point without actually offending anyone by coming out and saying it.

When something is exclusive - like a first class ticket, concierge services, a Club 33 membership - it usually means that some criteria must have been met prior to the red velvet rope having been set aside.

And while I understand that having a driver's license and driving a car don't necessarily mean the same thing, for purposes of this observation I'm going to pretend that it's the case. The requirements of having one's license are so low in comparison to what one actually learns on the road that it's like, why the formality? Especially when it seems that the supposed common sense doesn't kick in fast enough to avoid the making of a friggin' stupid move that does more damage than annoying the person in the vehicle behind you.

Peripheral vision is a godsend; if you don't know what it is, you shouldn't be driving. But rear-view mirrors, directionals, and easing up on the gas are also lovely ways to avoid erratic handling of self on the road. Being brake-happy is never a good thing. And hard stops (usually preceded by sharp cut-offs) are never necessary.

I just have to wonder if it's just me, or are people behaving more dumb as I get older? Or has it always been this way?

There's no nice way of saying someone is an idiot. One of these days, I will learn this.