The Constancy of Love

There has been an ongoing discussion between me and some of my friends about the nature of love. Exactly, what is love? We have each had different responses and ideas. Last night, I watched the Notebook. It is a very good movie. In it, I found some help in my search for what love is. If you have not seen the movie and would not like any spoiler, STOP READING. The movie follows the love story of Noah and Ali. They meet each other at the beginning of the summer and fall deeply in love. The beginning of their love is passionate, romantic, and emotional. The butterflies of love. Their summer of love shows the emotional and romantic side of love. They are head over heels in love with each other. But this side of love is not the point of the movie. The movie is shown in flashbacks as Noah reads their love story to Ali, who has dementia and does not remember who he is. Noah loves her so much that it would hurt him to not be near her even though she does not remember him. He is committed to her. His love is constant it does not fade or go away simply because she has no recollection of who he is. He stays by her side every day reading her their story in hopes that she will remember and return to him, if only for a little while. I was blown away by the depth of commitment this movie portrays. When I think of True Love, I think of the constancy of love. The choice, the commitment to a person.

Phantom Injuries

I have discovered my weakness. Every super hero has a weakness and now I know mine. I suffer from a malady I refer to as "phantom injuries". I retire to bed at night fully healthy with all parts of my body functioning properly, then when I wake up in the morning something hurts. For instance, today I woke up and my left shoulder is in pain. It feels like I tackled someone with it. Did I tackle anyone yesterday? NO! A reoccuring "phantom injury" is my right shoulder. I will wake up and have pain when I try to rotate my arm, or my knee will hurt when I try to stand up and put weight on it. Some mornings it feels like I fought an army of super villians in my sleep, which could be possible. I have yet to discover the root of these problems. Does anyone else suffer from phantom injuries?

Singles Awareness Day

This one day of the year carries many emotions for many different people. For some, it is a day of immense joy and celebration of love. For others, it is a day of loneliness and bitterness. I have celebrated this day as Single's Awareness Day every year that I have been able to celebrate it. For most of those years, I celebrated (if you call what I did celebration when you mope around watching chick flicks crying in your dorm room ok maybe not the crying part) out of bitterness and angst towards all things feminine that had rejected me. Dang you shampoo and conditioner combo that burned my eyes. Dang you She-Ra doll that could fly better than Snake Eyes. Dang you Nair that turns boys legs orange when wrongly applied. But, I have changed my attitude. Even though today is another day that I celebrate this great holiday alone, I will celebrate it with joy and pride. The period of singleness is not a time to piss and moan about not having someone, its a time to live life to the full without anything to tie you down to chase after the wind and grasp it. So this Single's Awareness day, I choose to let it be a day of adventure and excitement.

Cigars, Leg Hair and Root Beer

Friday night I went to a kegger. It was a joyous time had by all. I was able to sit around a fire and talk with friends while swiggin root beer from a keg. Can life get much better? I don't think so. While sitting around the fire having a splendid time, one of my friends took a cup o gasoline and began to drip it onto the fire. As he was doing this, the fire began to travel up the stream of gas towards the cup. Rather than allowing the fire to reach the cup, he dropped the cup onto the fire. This action caused the gas to splash out upon all gathered round the fire. A large portion of gas landed upon my left pant leg. My immediate reaction was to spring out of my chair and for some reason take off my jacket. Then I beat the fire on my leg out. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that my leg was not burnt nor were my jeans, but the majority of the hair upon my leg had been burnt off. It went from hair to bare. This got me thinking. If gas on the leg on fire can remove hair so easily why do girls endure the pain of shaving or waxing, when they could simply light themselves on fire? Food for thought...