Archive for January 17th, 2008

Dear Miguel from Holland

You have just succeeded at something that I doubt you were trying to do. You made me cry.

I don’t actually blame you. I read your comment on the “I love my life” post. I do feel lucky to have seen the rythmicana concert. That is definitely one of those once-in-a-lifetime kinds of experiences.

You questioned why I write about my personal life for millions of people to read. There are a few reasons. The first is that I don’t want to write about work, so I write about everything else. The second is that the more personal stuff I’ve written, the more I’ve learned about my friends and family. My posts have triggered conversations that I never would have had if I hadn’t been honest and open. I have learned more about my grandmother that other family members don’t know about. I’ve had conversations with my uncle and aunt about love and loss. I feel closer to my parents now, even though they are three thousand miles away. It lets them all know what I’m doing out here in California. And the more secrets I tell, the more secrets my friends share with me. Things that they’ve never told anyone, but now that they know I’ve had the same feelings or thoughts or experiences, they open up and share theirs.

But that still isn’t what made me cry.

What made me cry was the post that you chose to write the comment in. It wasn’t the post about the rythmicana concert. It was a simple post about how much I love my life. I didn’t write about anything too exciting that day, just the small things that reminded me how good I have it and how uncomplicated the world can be.

And as I read that post, I burst into tears because I realized that the night I wrote that post is the night that my uncle shot himself. While I was blissfully living life, he was simultaneously ending his. When I went to bed dreaming of what a wonderful weekend I had in store, I had no idea that in the morning, my father would call me and the world I was expecting to see would be turned completely upside down.

I have no idea if you purposely pointed me to that post or not, but I just wanted to say thank you. I probably would never have thought to re-read the events of that day. It was bitter sweet to read, but I’m glad to have read it again. It reminds me how quickly the world can change and how little we know about some of the people in our lives.

Thank you,
~ K


What constitutes a "date"?

Before Christmas, I went to the mall with a friend to do some holiday shopping. When it closed, we stood outside for a while, sharing a pretzel and he asked, “What makes an evening out a date versus just hanging out with a friend?”

I immediately replied, “Just so you know. This is not a date.” He laughed and agreed. It wasn’t that we weren’t doing date-like things, but someone else mentioned today that it seems to come down to intentions. In order for the event to be a date, it seems that both parties have to have some intent further than just being friends.

It makes me wonder how many “half dates” I go on, where the guy thinks we are on a date, or I think we are on a date. I go out with male friends and think nothing of it. Can I say the same for them though?

I also find that some non-dates feel more like dates than real dates. For example, a while ago, I went out with two different guys. One for Dinner and one for Lunch. One was a date, one was not.

Dinner we met at the restaurant. Hugged when we arrived. We had a fabulous conversation for a couple hours. Talked about places we had been and the state of the world. Good eye contact. Shared food and I ate a lot. Let Dinner pay and I offered to pay next time. Hugged goodbye.

Lunch, we met by a carousel. Took a cab to the restaurant. Got cut off by a stretch Limo. Cabbie rolled down window and started yelling. Limo did the same. Cabbie threw something at Limo. Lunch told Cabbie we’d have his back for him if he wanted to fight. Conversation with Lunch made me laugh and blush constantly. Very personal. Good eye contact. Managed to work in hand contact while giving an example of something. Shared food and I was starving, but just couldn’t eat. Let Lunch pay and I didn’t offer to pay this time or next. He commented on my FMBs. He opened all doors. Cab ride back with more sexual innuendos. Hugged goodbye.

And this is where I say, “Was there any question as to why I’m still single?” Dinner, as far as I know, was supposed to be a date. Lunch was not supposed to be a date. How could I have possibly screwed these two things up more than that?

So what do you think constitutes a “date”?