It's late. I just finished another half-ass attempt at cleaning up my perpetually messy, disgusting kitchen. I don't cook half as much as I used to, but my kitchen is twice as messy on a regular basis. How the hell is that? If you figure it out, I promise I'll dust off my Kitchen Aid and whip up my famous chocolate ganache cake. I've been hankering for a piece of chocolate cake ever since I cut back on sweets two weeks ago. I'm as shocked as you are at my resolve.
Besides spending the night scrubbing old salmon off of a deep dish pan (I told you I was lazy), my thoughts wandered off to my coupon binder. I clipped a few hot coupons for a quick trip to Kroger tomorrow (free Colgate until next week on Sunday and .30 Ivory Body wash...), I found a coupon I thought had expired. Not just any coupon, it was an "ONYO" which is coupon speak for "Off Your Next Order", which further translates to free money. $6.50 worth of free money. I freaked when I saw the date was 3/28 and I debated over whether or not I could get away with wearing faux silk pajamas and a dirty north face jacket to GE at 11PM.
Much to my relief (and chagrin), today is only 3/27 and I have until tomorrow to pick up meat or whatever items I need that I don't have a coupon for. Seeing the almost-expired coupon lying neatly folded in my binder (which I'm still not quite caught up with yet) made me think about time in general.
In a few months (less than 2) I'll be celebrating my sixth 21st birthday. I keep turning 21 because it's a fantastic age. I love the age 21 because you can legally drink and still pull off wearing pink ballerina tutu over your black leggings. Well.. maybe not that last part, but you should get my drift by now.
When I was much younger than 21, I had a vision of my 26 going on.... 21+6 that is quite dissonant from who I really became to be. My plans weren't God's plans. That is the one thing I am certain of today. When I was young, I was pretty certain that by now I would finish law school (before that I was supposed to be a firefighter/mechanic... that's a martini and another blog post) and would be happily married to my soulmate. My younger self figured by 21+6, I would start planning a family or find myself invariably knocked up after an over celebration of my successful career at whatever the hell I was doing in the future. Children, a home, a husband, and even a crazy spoiled canine. All of the above making the perfect amount of noise that you expect to hear when you've finally "arrived" at your destination. A spouse is a soulmate, your other half and your best friend. My pastor told us this past Sunday that a wife is a helpmate, not a servant. God never intended her existence to be one of a lowly chef/babymaker/taxi cab. God took Eve from Adam's rib. A rib is a body part that lies on either side of your body. A woman is a helpmate that is at the side of her man and vice versa. Even if they aren't "soulmates" per se, she's always there, by his side. Perhaps "side mates" is a better term.
Soulmates, sidemates, whatever. All I know is that life has a way of taking our plans and turning them upside down. I am not a dreamer, but I am certainly not disillusioned by the winding, undecipherable path life is taking me on. The milestones I want to reach aren't lost, but they have certainly changed. Love isn't always the noise of a baby, an old man in a chair, or toddlers spitting up green goo. Love can be the silence that rings in your ears when you come home from a long day at work and the dog has passed out on the couch next to you.
If I have learned or achieved anything in the short time I have been on this Earth, it is that our milestones might become boulders in the way of our true happiness. By moving them out of the way, we can either find treasure or terror. Either way, I can't sit on the sidelines and allow a childlike version of myself dictate what lies ahead. I also can't limit myself to the idea that there's only one soulmate out there. I do subscribe on some level to the idea that out there, there's someone who is very special and a good fit for our lives. I do not believe, however, that there's only one of that person. Can you imagine how depressing life could be if we had to shift through the billions of people who live and walk among us to find just one person? I could see single women my age jumping off the buildings now if that were the case.
What I do know is that some day, when you turn over and you're watching your "sidemate" sleeping, if the thought of losing that person from your side permanently terrifies you, chances are damn good that you're exactly where you should be. Regardless of whether you label that person wife, husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, or in my case, dog friend, if the thought of losing them feels like a pain in your side, then hold them closer. Hold them close enough to make sure that you're not dreaming.
P. Manolos
Besides spending the night scrubbing old salmon off of a deep dish pan (I told you I was lazy), my thoughts wandered off to my coupon binder. I clipped a few hot coupons for a quick trip to Kroger tomorrow (free Colgate until next week on Sunday and .30 Ivory Body wash...), I found a coupon I thought had expired. Not just any coupon, it was an "ONYO" which is coupon speak for "Off Your Next Order", which further translates to free money. $6.50 worth of free money. I freaked when I saw the date was 3/28 and I debated over whether or not I could get away with wearing faux silk pajamas and a dirty north face jacket to GE at 11PM.
Much to my relief (and chagrin), today is only 3/27 and I have until tomorrow to pick up meat or whatever items I need that I don't have a coupon for. Seeing the almost-expired coupon lying neatly folded in my binder (which I'm still not quite caught up with yet) made me think about time in general.
In a few months (less than 2) I'll be celebrating my sixth 21st birthday. I keep turning 21 because it's a fantastic age. I love the age 21 because you can legally drink and still pull off wearing pink ballerina tutu over your black leggings. Well.. maybe not that last part, but you should get my drift by now.
When I was much younger than 21, I had a vision of my 26 going on.... 21+6 that is quite dissonant from who I really became to be. My plans weren't God's plans. That is the one thing I am certain of today. When I was young, I was pretty certain that by now I would finish law school (before that I was supposed to be a firefighter/mechanic... that's a martini and another blog post) and would be happily married to my soulmate. My younger self figured by 21+6, I would start planning a family or find myself invariably knocked up after an over celebration of my successful career at whatever the hell I was doing in the future. Children, a home, a husband, and even a crazy spoiled canine. All of the above making the perfect amount of noise that you expect to hear when you've finally "arrived" at your destination. A spouse is a soulmate, your other half and your best friend. My pastor told us this past Sunday that a wife is a helpmate, not a servant. God never intended her existence to be one of a lowly chef/babymaker/taxi cab. God took Eve from Adam's rib. A rib is a body part that lies on either side of your body. A woman is a helpmate that is at the side of her man and vice versa. Even if they aren't "soulmates" per se, she's always there, by his side. Perhaps "side mates" is a better term.
Soulmates, sidemates, whatever. All I know is that life has a way of taking our plans and turning them upside down. I am not a dreamer, but I am certainly not disillusioned by the winding, undecipherable path life is taking me on. The milestones I want to reach aren't lost, but they have certainly changed. Love isn't always the noise of a baby, an old man in a chair, or toddlers spitting up green goo. Love can be the silence that rings in your ears when you come home from a long day at work and the dog has passed out on the couch next to you.
If I have learned or achieved anything in the short time I have been on this Earth, it is that our milestones might become boulders in the way of our true happiness. By moving them out of the way, we can either find treasure or terror. Either way, I can't sit on the sidelines and allow a childlike version of myself dictate what lies ahead. I also can't limit myself to the idea that there's only one soulmate out there. I do subscribe on some level to the idea that out there, there's someone who is very special and a good fit for our lives. I do not believe, however, that there's only one of that person. Can you imagine how depressing life could be if we had to shift through the billions of people who live and walk among us to find just one person? I could see single women my age jumping off the buildings now if that were the case.
What I do know is that some day, when you turn over and you're watching your "sidemate" sleeping, if the thought of losing that person from your side permanently terrifies you, chances are damn good that you're exactly where you should be. Regardless of whether you label that person wife, husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, or in my case, dog friend, if the thought of losing them feels like a pain in your side, then hold them closer. Hold them close enough to make sure that you're not dreaming.
P. Manolos
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