Holy Haircut, Batman

Okay, so there's something you should know about me.

I don't handle change well. I have a little bit of a control issue, and I don't like it when things happen that I either couldn't prevent, or just didn't see coming.

Lately, life has been more than slightly nutzo. I got a puppy on Friday (my b-day), an MRI on Saturday, and put my two weeks notice in at my current job on Sunday. Busy weekend, to say the least. And mainly because of the health issues I've been dealing with for the past few months, and just the general feeling of not knowing what's been going on, I've felt like I'm not in control of my body, my emotions, my life! I've been focusing on the things I can change, the things I do have control over. Thus, I decided to get a haircut today. I made an appointment at the salon and I was super excited, just wanted to get a little trim and get some shorter, side-swept bangs. Nothing drastic, just a little something new.

K, well I am now minus eight inches. Eight. I asked for 3-4 to be cut off, just so it would be lighter and more manageable for summer. My stylist, whom I have always been pleased with, got a little scissor happy I guess, I don't know. Bottom line; my hair is too freakin' short. And I, being the change-phob that I am, well, I'm not super chill about it. I cried. Like Julia freakin' Roberts in Steel Magnolias. Don't worry, I waited until I was in my car with my sunglasses on before I had my irrational meltdown. My mother would be proud.

Alright, I'm done being a baby now. Hair grows back, and I have a lot of good things going on right now. Sometimes I think these little curve balls are thrown our way in life so that we can learn a lesson in humility. I have food. I get to eat every single day. I don't have to worry about having clean water to drink or money to pay the bills (unless I overindulge in a little retail therapy that month), I have love in my life and family and friends and an adorable puppy. I am blessed beyond blessed, and although my life may be a stressful right now, I do have faith that there is a plan for me and God has some good things up his sleeve. I'll get the MRI results back soon, and we'll go from there. New job=good. New puppy=good. New haircut=whatever. Life goes on. We'll file this under ridiculous things I've cried over lately.

Mantra of the week: Glass half full. Embrace the change. Suppress the crazy.

-V

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Songs:

"I am not my hair" India.Arie

Nostalgia

I was going through some old things today, when I found my red notebook. It's just this random, cheap, spiral notebook which traveled with me all throughout my three years in Texas. On the front cover is my favorite e.e. cummings poem "i carry your heart", and the inside contains grocery lists, a few journal entries, and some lyrics and poetry haphazardly scrawled in margins and sideways on pages with doodles surrounding. I kept a journal separate from this one, but for some reason or another I always had it laying around. The first page was written in December of 2005, and it's just two pages of me complaining that it's hard living in a new state and all my friends from high school are growing up and moving on with "boyfriends, and stuff". Later, in May 2007, there's an entry describing how I don't think my boyfriend "likes" me anymore and how afraid I am that I've fallen completely. My how things can change from year to year.

As I read through the amateur poems that follow, it brings tears to my eyes. Not because I miss my old boyfriend, which I am certain a part of me always will, but because it gives me hope. I believe that a broken heart will heal stronger than it was before. And statistically speaking, persons who have found love once are far more likely to love again than those who have never taken the chance. I know there will always be a place for this man in my heart, for he has meant more to me than I ever imagined one person could. I do know, however, that I have plenty of time ahead of me; time to learn and time to find love. I have labelled myself in the past as a hopefull romantic, so in the spirit of both sentimentality and hope for the future, I would like to share one of these re-discovered poems.

My Perfect Mess (circa May 2007)

a sweet contradiction
of joy and sorrow
pain and pleasure
the answer i seek
evades me
close enough to touch
but always just out of reach
i've fallen without falling
i don't know how i got here
but i never want to leave.

-V.O'Neel age 19 almost 20 =)
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i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
not fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

-e.e. cummings
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Mine kind of pales in comparison, huh? =)
-V.O'Neel age 22 (almost 22 & a half!)

Songs:

"Comfortable" John Mayer

"Crazy" Seal

the HEART of the matter.

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

-Neil Gaiman (English born American Novelist)

.........................................................................................................

We've all been through it. The relationship that never really should have started, and by all logic shouldn't have lasted for the past 2-3 years. This is what your head is telling you, but ah, the heart. I've often wondered why our Western tradition has chosen the heart as the seat of emotion. It is not the same in all cultures or periods of time. Perhaps it is because without it we would cease to exist. How many love songs, sappy or otherwise, proclaim the impossibility of life without the one they love? "How do I LIVE without you?", "I will ALWAYS love you", and more recently and aptly put by a particular American Idol; "My life would SUCK without you". Gotta love the poignancy of popular music.

So we have this blood-pumping, life-giving muscle inside our chests. And though it has no IQ, no thoughts or desires, I for one, tend to let it dictate many of my decisions. Oftentimes in a new relationship, my brain will figure it out right away. Warning, Warning, Red Flags Everywhere! Sometimes I listen, go with instinct, and end the budding relationship before it can ruin me. Sometimes though, I ignore the frantic warnings of my head and barrel on down the road, damn the consequences, and when all is said and done, I've crashed and I'm left lying on the side of the road, broken, crying and asking; "Why?". It's that pesky heart thing again.

What I'd really like to know is; can we control it? Can I lead my heart, or am I a prisoner to this wonderfully destructive thing called love? Maybe this is something that will come with age, or maybe I will one day awaken, and find myself in charge of my emotion-wouldn't that be lovely? I have learned how to bite my tongue when I am angry, how to blink back the tears until I am alone; on several occasions I have been successful in pushing them back all together (how grown up). I have yet to learn how to "fall out of love". It's like this; once I decide that I love someone, I stick. 'Better or Worse, Come What May' kind of thing. It's obnoxious.

I have been slowly coming to the realization that perhaps it really IS me. I have impossibly high standards for love. I'm not a dolt, I know that movies and novels are fictional for a reason, they do not exist in our real world. My faith is deeply rooted in the bible, which tells me that "love never fails". What I fail to remind myself however, is that in Corinthians, Paul is talking about true love, like the love our Heavenly Father has for us. This is not the usual human experience of love, but an illustration to emulate.

Love is fallible. It's not easy and sometimes, it hurts. We have to accept the object as our affection as human, not sitting on some pedestal of righteousness. Our beloved will undoubtedly fail, disappoint us, maybe even break our heart. The key, I guess, is to find a somebody who will minimize the damage, love and accept us, and bring more laughter than tears. This is not pessimism, it is the world in which we live. I have never liked the term 'hopeless romantic'. I prefer to think of myself as hopeFULL. If I continue to live life with my heart and mind open, yet aware, perhaps my hopeful romanticism will attract another dreamer. Happily ever after, and all that mush.

-V.K.O.

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Song:

"The Heart of the Matter" India.Arie