Oh well, what you waiting for?

Do you remember having units of different activities in gym class while growing up? There was volleyball, square dancing (at my school - yes), gymnastics. In gymnastics, we were taught to do the semi-dangerous things with the safety of a mat. Something to cushion the fall.

We learn to ride bikes with helmets, drive cars with seat belts; we always looks for an assurance, some sort of guard, that we'll land safely without fear of injury.



Maybe this explains the fear of jumping without a safety net. Who wants to free fall into the unknown? Seriously - that's scary. Taking chances without any indication of the outcome can absolutely be linked to leaping into complete blackness.

This all makes sense in why world when you realized I hate roller coasters that move through the dark. I need to see where I'm going. Tower of Terror? Yeah, that ride scares the shit out of me.

I have to think of the question posed, offering a multitude of hypothetical scenarios as an answer - what would you do if you knew you could not fail? My list is really, really long. I'd move somewhere without knowing anyone. I'd audition for "American Idol." I'd open a bakery. I'd confess a great love (of which none currently exists). I'd attempt to clean my room... ;-)

All kidding aside... How does a generally very cautious person, like myself, walk to the end of the diving board without really knowing how to dive? Well, at some point, you have to surrender to blind faith - or that kid behind you, yelling at you to jump - worrying simply about being in the moment and not about what happens in 20 minutes, 2 months, or 10 years.

There isn't a safety net large enough to protect against failure, insecurity, or heartbreak. So, knowing you have no chance if you don't step to the edge, you simply have to jump. You're older; you've graduated, and you don't need that mat to learn summersaults. Eventually, you will fly, and your feet will never touch the ground.

"Leave your things behind 'cause it's all going off without you."

Dress me. I'm your mannequin.

I interrupt this usually very serious blog to talk about something that means absolutely nothing at all. I wish to take a brief departure from my cynical and critical ways to bring you a moment of weakness.

I am about to preach the genius of Cher Horowitz.

Don't know her? Take a look:


I hope the image jogged your memory. Though Clueless came out in 1995, some of Cher's most memorable lines still ring true. The modern-day Emma may not have earned her As for book smarts, she was enough streetwise for all the teenage girls in Beverly Hills.

Today, I found myself thinking about her commentary on guys and style: "So, I don't want to be a traitor to my generation and all, but I don't get how guys dress today. I mean, come on; it looks like they just fell out of bed and put on their baggy pants and take their greasy hair - ew - and cover it up with a backwards cap, and, like, we're expected to swoon? I don't think so."



Thankfully, the baggy jeans (like the JNCOs pictured above) have been replaced. Ugh, I used to say you could fit a family of five in one pant leg. They were awful.

However, the same idea still applies. It seems that instead of gigantic jeans and large t-shirts, there is a gravitational pull to unwashed skinny jeans and ratty sweatpants. Although I don't need a guy that grooms like Ryan Seacrest, it never hurt for a to have a little bit of style.

In working with the public, I have seen every look, style, and trend on a variety of people. Some of my coworkers could probably spot my type a mile away. I call him The Prepster.



He's a little badass but perfectly sweet. He could be from London in the 60s or the letterman in the 50s. He's got fitted jeans, but he's no damn hipster. Think... Ralph Lauren meets the (early) Beatles. Maybe a touch of Rockabilly with a 50s 'do - Johnny Depp in Cry-Baby. He ain't no square. It takes some work, but he won't be in front of the mirror longer than me. And I really hope he doesn't want to share a flat iron.

Though I talk about a preference, I'm an equal opportunity ogler. Really. I have a staring problem. But, more importantly, it's not about perfection or even a specific style. It is about taking the time and effort to convey a confident appearance, a put-together image. You don't need to have a closet full of designer clothes or shoes that cost more than your monthly car payment. Actually, you shouldn't. Sometimes, it just takes something clean and a great smile.

Because when it comes down to it, you could have the best look in the world and walk the runways in Paris and Milan. But if what's in your heart is ugly, the clothes can't make the man.

"Don't you want to see these clothes on me? Fashion - put it all on me."


**Please do not take this too seriously. I also welcome the male response.**

The time has come for my dreams to be heard.

In this day and age, I often question why some really great things happen to people that may not deserve it as much as others.

I've watched so many well connected and minimally talented people climb the ladders of success, purely by leapfrogging over the backs of others more qualified. We live in a world where nepotism is commonplace. Sons and daughters of those deemed special get the treatment that should be reserved for their parents. Nephews, friends, neighbors, they all find a way to reap the benefits others have worked to deserve. It's also general practice to reward someone that sells tickets at the box office or garners TV ratings by giving him or her a recording contract. Does anyone remember Joey Lawrence's album (yes, I still have it). Or Lindsay Lohan's awesome hit "Rumors"?

It's pretty upsetting to know that it's just kind of how things go. Many that work so damn hard and want the brass ring more than those special few don't get a chance to see it.



But, once in a while, the universe grants a special person her very own wish.

I'm sure I'm not alone in questioning why crappy things happen to really good people. While I tend to be a person that says "everything happens for a reason," it's usually very hard for me to understand why someone that is generally a great person gets dealt a bad hand. When I think of this particular person, I usually have the same thing to say - she is kindhearted and genuine. Sadly, that can sometimes be a rarity in our world. But she is pure good - working harder for the benefit of others than she has ever done for herself.

Maybe it was the universe's plan for her to move through a lot of junk in order for her to grow stronger and to prove her worth to herself instead of to others. She has taken one hit after another, learning in the process that it is all about how she can become a better person in order to make the world a better place for people she doesn't know and may never know.

For her, it's not about self-satisfaction. Life is about helping someone to have what he doesn't. Her dreams are to make other's dreams a reality, helping people that can't help themselves. She smiles when someone at the end of her hand can smile, and she cheers when her success leads to someone else's.

Her hard work is undeniable, and her dedication is unwavering. She has fought and prayed through every day of her life just hoping for the chance to reach the start of her goal.

I make no secret of my lack of belief in something greater than ourselves. In this case, what I believe in is a single person's desire to be the greatest person she can be without once stepping into the spotlight on her own. It isn't easy to get what we wish for, and a lot of us don't often get the opportunity to have most of our wishes granted. But, for her, it was just one - to have the chance to do better for everyone else.

And I'm so happy she got it.

"There is someone here inside someone I'd thought had died so long ago."

You can't always get what you want.

If you asked me, I could produce a relatively long list of things I wish I could have. I'd probably have to separate them into categories - something like material, emotional, physical... I have a very strong suspicion that I am not alone in this.

Think about it. There are so many things that have been created to help one achieve something he or she wishes were different. Ladies can wear heels if they think they're too short. Someone like Tom Cruise can be shot from a lower angle to appear taller. There's rhinoplasty if you were born with a nose that gives you a lack of confidence. Hair dye. Colored contacts. Spanx - for women AND men. Gambling. Medication.

But what about knowing something is just beyond your reach and you feel like you can't (or maybe WON'T) grab for it? Is there some sort of comfort in being without an object, idea, or person simply because the act of actually having it is that much scarier?

When you have a moment, refer back to my blog about liking the bad boys. Not too long ago, I had a conversation with a friend who took a moment to play therapist. She claimed that my interest in someone to whom I would never be attached really came with the thought of knowing there was zero threat in the attraction. Pretending and dreaming can be fulfilling simply because we know that we are actually released from responsibility or the chance of being hurt.

Wanting and longing - for anything - is constant, and sometimes the release from achievement can almost be a let down. We move on to the next thing, the next goal. We need to be stretching ourselves towards something. In high school, maybe it was a crush or an unrequited attraction. In college, it could've been completion of a difficult course. And, in later life, it becomes about achieving happiness and success, bits of which tend to elude us.

The person, the job, the house, the car, the body... We aim to make changes in the hopes of getting just what we want. But in not being able to touch exactly what we hope for, maybe we will instead discover exactly what it is we need. The journey is the important part, and in working towards whatever it is you hold in your mind or heart, you might stumble across the things that possess the bigger reward.

But it doesn't mean you won't keep going.

"But if you try sometimes, you might just find, you get what you need."

Life is a runaway train you can't wait to jump on.

Sometimes, I like to picture my life in a completely different place.

I'm not saying I don't love home. I moved back, didn't I? But, well, Cherry Hill isn't anything to dream about.

There are moments when I wonder what kind of life I could have if I lived somewhere else. I think about what I would do, where I would go...

I picked up and went somewhere on my own a couple of times. Miami wasn't a good fit, and - ultimately - Los Angeles wasn't either. It's a scary thing to just start your life in another place, and fear can be debilitating. But I do think about it... a lot. I've spent years thinking about the Dixie Chicks' song "Wide Open Spaces," claiming it was a guiding light, but all it did was become a really good karaoke song to add to my repertoire.

I think part of my love of writing has come from the opportunity to create different situations for myself. Although I don't plan on ever writing an autobiography (I mean, I'm not famous YET... hehe), I do love to imagine just a little bit of myself in some of the characters I create. In the world of my own creative writing, I've lived in Florida, NY, LA, Chicago, the list goes on. It's become a way to think about some of things I wish I could actually do. From just riding through a part of Brooklyn or seeing photos of London, I manage to think about all sorts of possibilities.



So why don't we just go? Do something so opposite of what we do now?

I wish I had it in me.

Just for a year, maybe, I'd like to be somewhere else. I've imagined ridiculous scenarios for myself. In my head, I've done everything from wait tables to write columns. I've found some wonderfully British guy - Prince Harry is still available - or walked kids to school. I see other opportunities and wish I could just jump.



Yet, being alone is really scary. I never wanted to join extra-curriculars in high school alone, and I won't dare walk into a gym by myself. If fear didn't exist in my vocabulary, I might be a very different person. Even more than the idea of needing to have an in tact bank account, the thought of being so entirely alone keeps me still.

So who wants to come with me? Paris? London? Brooklyn? I am currently accepting applications for a partner-in-crime.

"They say the first time it won't ever last. But that didn't stop me."