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Archive for September 1st, 2010

I’ve been trying to figure out this strange restlessness in me, wondering when I’m going to “get there.” This blog entry pretty much nailed it. All the short-term pleasures are exactly that: short-term. I find myself wallowing in the troughs between the peaks of indulgence and wondering why I’m not “happy” at those times.

He calls it self-actualization–and I’ve been calling it my search for a “deeper meaning.”

I don’t know what to do yet. I am certainly still playing the “waiting game” of “when I get that job” then I can start figuring out the rest of my life.

But at least I know I’m not the only one trying to define happiness that lasts.

What is happiness anyway? It hit me across the back of the head like an angry parent. There I was, minding my own business, wallowing about in a mopey state of woe at my dissatisfaction with my own life, when reality bit me fair on the butt. Hard. I regularly bang on (and on, and on) about the importance of independence, that is, not seeking a partner to complete ones-self, but rather, ones who complements us. I rant on about the importance of goals, incremental personal … Read More

via View from Wit's End

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On Sunday, my mom woke me up extra bright and early at 7 am.

I squinted as she opened the blinds, wth? It’s still too early for church.  I shaded my eyes and sort of focused on the being awake part of things and realized that my mom was talking a mile a minute.

But what really jolted me awake was this part of her long, long speech:

“…his name is Beau, and I think you’d really like him.”

*blink, blink, blink*

Say what???

Did my mom–no, scratch that–did my Asian Mom who has always discouraged dating of any sort really just try to set me up?

I had to clarify.

“Who?”

“He’s in the Marines. He’s a very good guy.”

That didn’t really answer my question, only reinforced the whole “encouragement to date” thing. I felt like I was slipping into a weird parallel universe where my mom didn’t criticize my dates or tell me at every opportunity about how I should focus on everything else but the guy in my life.

“Wait, what?”

“He’s my friend’s son. You’re coming with me today. Meet him, talk to him, keep him company.”

And wow. I felt like I was being officially Matched. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience…like watching a sitcom starring me and my mom, but knowing in the back of my head that this couldn’t be my life cuz it was just too darn…well, impossible.

I had grown up fighting with my mom over boys, guys, men, boyfriends, guy best friends, and in whatever form the male of the species came in. I mean, this random break-of-dawn conversation came at the heels of another weird mom conversation.

Me: …so yeah, he was really handsome and he smelled really good, too!

Mom: Handsome and smells good, that sounds dangerously close to being gay. Are you sure he wasn’t gay?

Me: uh…

Mom: (without missing a beat)…because if he was gay, I’m completely okay with you having a gay boyfriend.

That conversation, as strange as it was, is more in-line with what my mom thinks about me and dating in general.  On the other hand, I did go and meet this Marine. He was everything my mom said he was. Except that I couldn’t exactly “date” him with both of our moms watching in the sidelines.

So, I told my mom that he seemed like a really nice guy. Period. Nothing more.  She gave me a look, put her hands on her hips and said, “At least be friends with him.”

Sure.

Maybe not.

Even though he was kind of cute. He was very courteous. Great manners. Amazing arms. He was a Marine. And my mom already liked him per se. But still.

It’s just too weird, no?

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