Irony’s ugly cousin….
You’re 100 yards from the entrance of Starbucks when you spot a tall, masculine, seemingly gorgeous man reading a newspaper. Even though he is turned away from you, you notice a baseball hat and what appear to be glasses, which screams Wall Street Journal. All near-sighted people are geniuses. Even from this distance you recognize that laid-back look, sporting a button-down polo and khakis that frame a perfectly chiseled ass. Yes, you know the man I’m talking about… he is sans a wedding ring, and his smile illuminates sparkling white choppers. Now only fifty yards away, you silently squeal with delight because he hasn’t moved… A small thought, barely a thought at all…a mere possibility begins to bubble, maybe from the corner of one of his sparkling blue eyes he has spotted you and is gearing up for your arrival (he watched you climb out of your car). You’re checking your ponytail for stray wisps, applying lip glass and wrapping up your cell phone call, so you’ll be hands free when you ask for directions, even though you have the newest GPS system. For where? Hmm. You haven’t exactly decided… "May I have directions to your heart, or even better… can I mapquest your home?”
In less than a few seconds the fantasies include long embraces on the beach, your back is arched, (yoga classes have paid off), there is moonlight, there are waves crashing, oh yeah… there is the faint music of the orchestra from afar. He is whispering sweet nothings in a husky voice; no better… sweet something’s. into the nape of your neck, which double as soft kisses. You’ve forgone your insecurities in your ratty sweatpants because suddenly a few seconds of mystery has concocted an abstract, yet entirely plausible reality… people meet and fall in love all the time, all over the globe. Maybe it’s your turn to taste that succulent fate Hollywood and happy couples boast about... As you round the corner with anticipation, blushing about this soon-to-be salacious encounter.
And before you can gasp… this man, this undiscovered gem of a male specimen who you were so convinced was utterly perfect in every delectable way…is a freaking, lifeless, faceless, mannequin.
Yep. It’s the kind compliment you hear secondhand, that you soon discover was about the “other” Jennifer in the office.
Your boyfriend is watching you apply your makeup with admiration and focus… then you see ESPN in the mirror’s reflection.
The $1000 check on your desk with your name printed in large letters is actually an HR mistake.
After twelve concerts your heartthrob finally recognizes you and is staring into your eyes over his guitar strings. His girlfriend is standing directly behind you.
A beautiful pair of Calvin Klein pants easily zip around your waist, and when you check the tag, you notice it is a size 4, which is a sign from GOD you should own them. Then the saleswoman "happens" to mention it was mistagged and is really a size 6.
Three things happen:
1. You jump for joy.
2. Fall into a pit of rejected despair.
3. YOU FORGET that pre-mannequin, HR idiot and foggy mirror… not of the above mattered, because you didn’t know it existed.
So in a world where international news arrives in twitter updates, we gather local news from our friend’s facebook wall posts, and the Internet adult playground “2nd world” is causing real-world divorces, why the hell should we stop a few fantastical seconds from enhancing our life? Hell… in world driven by over stimulated and immediately validated populous, relish the moment when you believed the above were true, because I’m going to let you in on a little secret…
John Mayer sings, “There is no substitute for time.” And trust me…. Even my hard drive is collecting dust from photographs circa 2004. I’m not worried about the time we can’t get back… the seconds, the hours, and the years that calendars devour with a voracious appetite…. It isn’t that stuff that worries me… it is the emotions we cannot relive. For every sad moment, is a happy moment lost?
Chances, odds and every other indicator suggests that no, you will not win the lotto, but once in awhile your significant other will admire you while you’re not watching, or you’ll be given a bonus or meet your hubby at a coffee shop… don’t sell yourself short, enjoy the maybes…. But more importantly let them go. Don’t gauge your happiness on a letdown that wasn’t ever supposed to be. Am I suggesting you lie to yourself? Hell no… I’m just saying, live a little… enjoy the ride… and just because it isn’t true, in a moment or in a year… I mean let’s face it. Today your lover is alive, but tomorrow he could die in a motorcycle accident, doesn’t mean today doesn’t exist. Are you following my thinking here? For the pure moment you believed something to be real, your brain registered it as real. Now you know that you can’t cash that check, nor can you buy the same pants in a different color, but you can revel in the moment that it, however fleeting did exist.
Because this life belongs to only one person. That is you. These moments, the thoughts, the agonies, the blunders that shake us, delete perfect people who while have the best or worst of intentions shared in on “our” time… don’t let what ended up happening ruin what already has. I struggle with this, but I know that deep down this postulate holds true. I was at the gym and noticed this guy from my office who always manages to make me feel dumb. A few machines away I decided to show him who was boss... I pushed myself really hard… I know I’m shallow and competitive. An hour and 1000 calories later I turn around beet red, to prove something. But of course, it wasn't him. It was some poor stranger who was confused as to why he was getting my weird stares. But had I know that.... my workout wouldn’t have been as good….
I’m just saying those little triggers in life explain a lot about ourselves, so pay attention. And now… damn my calves look good. Sometimes it’s the mannequins, the placebos, and the leap years…
