Posted on by shirindawna

give me your hand.

i am sitting beside my baba. the man who always seemed larger than life to me. invincible.

he is unresponsive. no longer able to speak, open his eyes, or even swallow. though i know he still hears me…

yesterday he was marginally better. as i read to him he managed to whisper the words “give me your hand” and every time i told him i loved him, he would move his lips to reply. even though the only sound that escaped was a faint groan, i have no doubt that he was saying it back.

even though my dad and i spent the better part of most of our conversations expressing our love for each other, i would still give anything to hear him say the words again.

he is a wonderful, remarkable, inspiring man and i am so blessed to not only know him, but to be able to call him my baba.

he was just paid a visit by his hospice social worker and she told me that in all her time doing what she does, she has never met anyone who showed such gratitude and courage in spite of what he was facing. she said he has a strong will and is a true role model.

it is hard to believe that just a couple days ago i was fortunate enough to witness a large smile spread across his face when my best friend came to see him…he was able to tell her that he had missed her & that he loved her.

the day before that he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it before telling me he loved me more than life. witnessing his decline has been the greatest challenge i have ever faced.

in the last week he did his best to prepare us for the time when he is no longer (physically) with us. he also told me that i was opinionated and while he considered that a good thing, i would encounter people throughout life and that i should be gentle with them. he said “these are just the words from a father to a daughter…for the future”

…a future that seems to have a big gaping hole in it without my sweet baba.

my #1 fan.

and the man that taught me what it means to love. unconditionally.

something i hope i am able to pass along.

i will miss him dearly, but i revert back to the physics knowledge that he frequently tried to instill in me…”energy cannot be created nor destroyed…” and i take comfort in knowing that he will always be with me. in my heart. and in my head.

but for now…i am giving him all the kisses and hugs i can.

Posted on by shirindawna

attack of the 5’10” woman.

in the past couple weeks, i’ve been asked no less than ten times if i got a perm. (i didn’t).

the truth is, i’m just too lazy to straighten my hair.

i have two jobs, a boyfriend, a blog, and a bratty pup ~ there’s no time to tame these locks. i’m lucky if i manage to put my clothes on right-side out…

so, lately i’ve been rocking my big hair (and it is BIG)… oddly enough, i’ve received more hair compliments in the past few weeks, than…umm…ever. which i find hysterical because i don’t think i’ve ever spent less time on my hair.

*sigh*

i digress though…the c-c-c-c-curly locks reminded me of the sex and the city episode where they talk about the movie, “the way we were” in relation to big’s new fiancée.

side bar: i am fully aware that the modern, sophisticated girl isn’t supposed to like the aforementioned show, but i am neither modern nor sophisticated (i consider myself more of a vintage classic, read: an old lady in a younger body) and amidst the froth and frivolousness are gems of bona fide truth. and furthermore, i love the show, the fashion, the froth, and even the frivolusness.

the school of thought is there are two kinds of women:
the pretty and simple girls
the katie girls: wild, untamed, passionate, ambitious

if my hair is any indication, it’s pretty clear which category i fall into…after all, i’m sassy, opinionated, mouthy, inappropriate, challenging, have chipped nail polish, forget to wear make-up, and have seriously wild hair.

while i agree with the notion of the two types of women, i think when it comes to a break up…what’s the point of comparing?

hypothetically speaking (and this is all hypothetical, right ;)) i like to think that if it were me, i wouldn’t trouble myself with the question: why her and why not me?

frankly: who cares?
complicated/simple
curly/straight
ambitious/complacent

who really wants to be the former girlfriend of his with lingering feelings…or maybe just some sort of attachment towards him, who is spending her valuable time worrying about his life when she could be out living her own?

go shopping.
call a friend.
GO TO THE GYM.
eat a cookie.
live YOUR life.

honestly, honey, what difference does it make?

bottom line: you weren’t the one for him and it isn’t meant to be. MOVE ON.

whatever the case, that magical feeling that makes a man want to wife a woman wasn’t there. that doesn’t devalue any past relationships, it just means the relationship existed on borrowed time and eventually you found yourselves at a crossroads where you needed to decide if you were going to walk down a new path together or continue separately…you don’t usually come to that revelation until you’re at the proverbial fork in the road. sometimes that’s months into the relationship, sometimes it takes longer…

my current boyfriend and i knew very early on that this was ‘it’, but there were times when i held on longer than i needed to and fought far too hard and long for something that wouldn’t end up being right.

every relationship is a learning experience and when one ends, it’s prudent to take your lessons and move forward. sure, it’s nice to be nostalgic, but being bitter isn’t pretty. after all, ‘bitterness is a poison pill you swallow and hope the other person dies.’

i may not ever be the girl with the perfect hair or the most appropriate behavior, but i wouldn’t wanna be anyone else.

‘i don’t entirely approve of some of the things i have done, or am, or have been. but i’m me. god knows, i’m me.’ elizabeth taylor

Posted on by shirindawna

high fidelity, irony, and sun-daze.

i’ve been plagued with the sunday night blues for as long as i can recall. and i’ve written about it numerous times. even on the sunniest, happiest sunday it feels like monday starts on sunday. today is no exception.

the cure? a good book.

so, i leave you with a little high fidelity…and a little irony (for those that know the back-story):

“I’ve seen men like you in Doris Day films, but I never thought they existed in real life…The men who can’t commit, who can’t say ‘I love you’ even when they want to, who start to cough and sputter and change the subject. But here you are. A living, breathing specimen. Incredible.”

incredible, indeed.

and a little sad…like a sunday.

Posted on by shirindawna

i guess he was right.

way back when, i dated this guy that said if i ever cut my hair, he’d break up with me. i thought this was stupid so i chopped off my ass length hair (to chin length – i was dumb & young) and never called him again.

well, i took my dog to a new groomer over the weekend. the groomer decided to take her liberties with my pup’s adorable mane and turned him into something i can’t even bear to look at.

when i went to go pick him up, there was a creepy little rat looking thing nuzzling my ankles. i wanted to nudge him away until the lady working said ‘aww, you’re excited to see mama!’ ummmmm, WHAT?! i did a double-take. this is MY dog?! no way. couldn’t be. but then upon closer inspection i realized the big puppy dog eyes looking up at me where, in fact, my little pirate’s. i quickly looked away and told myself i wouldn’t have a breakdown at the groomer’s. i slipped the leash on him and briskly walked out to my car with the new and NOT improved pirate trying to keep up. i called my best friend in a panic and tried to get her to agree to adopt him.

she asked for a photo.

i was too embarrassed to send her one…but figured maybe she liked rats and would take this one off my hands.

it was then that it clicked. if i have an ugly child, i won’t love it. i told her this. she insisted that i wouldn’t think my child was ugly.

i disagree.

i sent my bestie a photo of the damage. i haven’t heard from her since.

i finally get what that guy was talking about…i’ve had pirate for 5 years. and i love him like he was my own child…but during this hideous hair stage, i cringe each time he trots his happy little butt up to me.

my advice? think twice when your man doesn’t want you to chop off your hair. i have kept mine long ever since. although, that guy was junk and i’m glad to be rid of him, now that i’ve walked (from the groomer to my car) in his shoes, i finally understand his point of view.

i’m traumatized.

UPDATE: my friend has since called me back.
her: ooooh, poor pirate!
me: poor pirate?! poor ME! i’m the one who has to look at him.

he’s still prancing around thinking he’s the cutest thing on the planet because that’s what he’s been hearing for 5 years. it is no longer true.

at least temporarily.

Posted on by shirindawna

i’m not just good, i’m better.

i’ve always harbored a crush on san francisco, but it wasn’t until the weekend that i met him that i really fell in love.

i thought we wanted the same things. i hadn’t been into anyone since my last boyfriend, that relationship ended a few months prior. his last relationship had ended almost a year before. for me, it was enough time. for him, it turned out, it wasn’t.

we were only in each other’s lives for a few lovely months. i know it sounds crazy to be so hung up on a guy i knew for such a short amount of time, but i adored him, we got along perfectly, and i’ve never felt a connection like that with anyone.

he was the most intriguing person i had ever met. he was well-read, passionate, humble, hard-working, intelligent, sexy, loved his family, loved my dog, grounded, and had a laugh that i wanted to listen to forever.

he listened. he told me stories. he made me laugh. he was thoughtful. he wrote for me. he pushed me to write. we had a great time together.

i couldn’t believe my luck. i thought, finally, i found the man i’m supposed to be with! if anyone had told me that it wasn’t going to work out, i simply wouldn’t have believed it.

the L-bomb and the aftermath

one lovely day in april, i let it be known that my heart was on the line…and i was starting to fall. and just like that…everything changed.

no more phone calls. no more texting all day. radio silence for over a week. it was hard for me: being in limbo and wondering… then, there were a couple emails where he tried to explain where he was coming from and how he just wasn’t ready. i was crushed.

my friends assured me he’d come around. i thought he’d come around. he never did. it was hard to let go of hope.

i missed him. and not just because i liked having someone in my life, i missed him. i missed his stories, i missed talking to him for 4 hours and having it feel like 30 minutes, i missed laughing until my cheeks hurt, i missed the way he eased the sunday night blues, i missed fantasizing about a future…that included him.

i realize he isn’t emotionally available and this is something i need my mr. forever to be, but i would be lying if i said i didn’t hope to hear from him.

it’s a funny twist of fate since i used to be just like him. closed off. emotionally withdrawn. a shell of a person. a guy i was interested in a couple years ago said i came across as an ‘ice queen.’ i built walls that were practically impossible to scale. until i met someone who did. and he didn’t just scale them, he broke them down. completely. and opened me up. he changed me and the way i’ll view relationships forever. and i’m thankful for that. my friends always said that i was so strong and maybe i was then, but i think i’m stronger now that i’m willing to be vulnerable. and i like myself better. i’m a better friend, i’m a better daughter, i’m a better sister, i’m a better cousin, and i’m a better version of the girl i was a few years ago.

i won’t lie, putting your heart out there can be scary, but i prefer to think of it as exciting. i’ve noticed that people are quick to seek shelter behind those big walls or stay in that suit of armor for fear of getting hurt. we’ve learned that showing someone we like them, sometimes means we get hurt. so, we hide our feelings. but the feelings are still there, whether we acknowledge them or not. i’d rather wear my heart on my sleeve than to live like a robot. let’s be honest, safety can be nice and sometimes comforting, but it’s lonely in that suit of armor, shutting people out doesn’t bring you closer to love, and there’s nothing sexy about being a robot. fear isn’t my friend.

so there i was, heart and arms wide open while he was quickly walking in the other direction. he still had unresolved fears. that is something he needs to work out on his own. it has nothing to do with me and i know that, but the insecurity monster still nags at me from time to time. ‘you weren’t good enough’ ‘you aren’t worth loving’ ‘you’ll never find this again’ ~ but i am well aware that these things aren’t true. i know i’m worth it. and i know i’ll find it again. and i know it’ll be better next time. because each guy thus far has been better than the last…and i’m SO excited to meet the next one.

i’ve gone out on dates with other guys, but he remains in my head. and takes up valuable real estate in my heart. i’m still working through it and my head knows ‘if not him someone better,’ but my heart is a little slower. and a little more foolish. i’m hoping my heart catches up with my head soon.

i’ve emailed him saying i’d like to be friends…no response.

maybe i was just moony over my love of the city and that carried over onto him because he was the epitome of san francisco? maybe i have trouble admitting that it was one-sided all along and he never deserved to be on that pedestal in the first place? maybe it doesn’t really matter because you can’t change what is? even when you really, really want to.

i still feel that all too familiar pang if i am near his home or work (which are both ill placed as far as i’m concerned). i was in a cab this past weekend and happened to look out the window and found myself face to face with his building. not gonna lie, it was like taking a bullet. but in typical shirin fashion, i slapped on a smile, cranked up my ipod, and laughed at the irony of it.

i don’t regret a minute of it; it was a lovely crash and burn. and i’m happy to report that i’m still open to the very real possibility of something better. after all, ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

and a cute boy once told me, ‘you can’t find the same, but you can always find better.’

cheers to that.