Friday, October 31, 2008

Delicate Flower, I think not?

I think there in times in life were we need to be just straight up honest with ourselves, no beating around the bush and one of those times ladies is when "He's just not that into you." I happened to watch the Sex in the City episode where this phrase originated a couple of weeks ago and at that time had no idea how useful and poignant it would be in my own life. Now to any male closet readers out there stay tuned because I have a lot of advice for you. You see as the story goes I am the usual suspect without a date to every event. This is not to make you feel sorry for me or to pity me. I actually really like going alone because it allows me the opportunity to be for the lack of a better phrase a "social butterfly". It however is my mother who has issues with the absence of a male by my side and her insistence that I be accompanied, which usually leads me to the acquisition of a date. Thus, the selection process of a date begins and believe me this is no easy matter. I have one quality that everyone of my dates must have---They must play well with others-a.k.a have the quality of the "chatsky" and making pleasantries with strangers. Simple, right? Not necessarily.
I have a wedding I am going to in December and in a timely fashion the invitation arrived and my date-o-meter wheels were turning. I selected a date and sent the most charming email of the top 10 reasons this guy should come to this wedding with me, leaving all the disclaimers that should be in invitation. If weddings aren't your thing.....if you are busy......if you are are spending time with your grandma.....I mean several opportunities for him to opt out. I sent this email Monday and today would be Friday and still know reply.
This means either my email is lost in cyberland, he's is deathly ill and can't reach his inbox, or "He's just not that into me". I choose the latter. Let us dissect this. If he would have been interested he would have emailed back that day or at most one day later. Yet, MEN (yes you) I have a few pointers. I still have not received any correspondence from the young gent which in my eyes reflects a lack of tact, couth, and the oh so important class. While I am not the type of woman to wait by cell phone or check my email every 20 secs hoping you will write or leave me a message, I do believe in the courtesy of correspondence . It also is at an advantage to just tell a woman your not interested, because if you try to be coy it will come around and bite you in the bum. You see women have this wonderful quality of talking and before you know it your one time event has turned into hate and discontent from an entire squad of women.
I, on the other hand, find this humorous in a sense, but also a humbling reminder. I will go on my merry way and in the words of Gloria Gaynor I will survive. Yet, I felt it important to share with you all the value of recognizing "He's just not that into you" because it can save both male and female alike the blood, sweat, and tears of trying to decipher mixed messages. Remember, Honesty is the best policy; and contrary to popular belief women are not delicate flowers.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

When no one is watching

So there are a multitude of things in life that I do that I would never do if anyone was watching. These are the quirks and idiosyncrasies of Jen and the things I delight in behind closed doors or on a walk. I encourage you (whoever you might be) to think about your own bits-o-honey.

My number one favorite thing to do when no one is watching is eat peanut butter right out of the jar. Why is this so liberating? Perhaps it all goes back to my childhood and how my mother would have chased me around the house with a flyswatter if she would have ever seen me doing this deviant act. Yet, maybe it is just me appreciating the fact that I don't have to share it with anyone right now. Thus, I will delight in continuing to spread my oral flora all throughout the jar.

Karaoke anyone? Ok, so I might not have the voice of a song bird but there is nothing like my favorite oldies but goodies station 107.9 the TRACK to get me rockin' out in my car. First of all I hate cars. I have this love for public transportation, but since I live in Indiana a car is a necessity. Regardless, I love singing at the top of my lungs in my car. I love the looks from the passersby as I do my best Aretha Franklin with my cellphone as my microphone. There is nothing sweeter!

Dancing queen.....negative over and out. Yet, in the vicinity of my own home I can really break it down. Where it would take multitudes of drinks (perhaps pints) before I could get up enough liquid confidence to show you the moves of an extremely white girl, in the walls of my house I am transformed into a dancing diva. Whether it is Micheal Jackson's thriller to my lovely lady lumps I gotz moves.

Perhaps people see me, I guess I just don't care, but I love to watch people. We truly are the most interesting creatures. The way we interact and coexist just continues to amaze me. I love to watch the emotions of life in the faces of others joy, humor, love, sadness they all carry this incredible immensity to me. I guess perhaps for a brief moment I am the one looking in on their story making my own judgements and conclusions like the reader of a great novel.

Lastly, embarrassingly enough I love to walk around my home in my underwear. Who wouldn't right? Its liberating and I NEVER would do it in front of anyone. I have a hard enough time putting on a bathing suit. Yet, I have decided that I have way to many cute underwear and I feel like not enough people get to enjoy them. Therefore, I need to appreciate them all the more.

Enjoy your quite moments alone the moments where you do the things no one would ever expect. The moments in life where all of your reservations are lifted. If your nervous about this, just imagine me out there singing and dancing in my cute underwear while singing into my spoon of peanut butter.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

My love affair with Fall....

It's true, I' m not going to lie, I am madly, deeply in love with Fall. I haven't been able to pin it down yet to what it exactly is that makes me smile ear to ear, but I am going to try to conglomerate all of the things I adore about it.

I would first like to talk about leaves, not just green leaves, but rustic oranges, bold reds, and sunflower yellow shades of wonder. It lights up the picturesque streets and showers drops of loveliness all over sidewalks.

The aroma of decomposing leaves is one of the most invigorating smells i can imagine. The way the crisp cold air slides down your bronchi and rattles in your chest, is a feeling I long for all year round. The sound of the leaves shivering on the branches as the northern wind aerates between their nearest neighbors, it is music to my ears. The way the wind kisses my cheeks with the color of the most suttle red lipstick.

The tastes and smells of warm apple crisp permeating my nostrils. The way my mother would sing as she baked and sprinkle crumbles of goodness over everything she made. The gorgeous food that covers the farmers markets. The butternut squashes, yams, pumpkins, all such gorgeous shades of orange. The aroma of soup from the local Co-op that satiates my soul with each spoon I heave in my mouth. The pumpkin lattes, the cup of coffee, and the hot chocolates that are the only thing that will conquer our internal shiver and leaves up gleaming after each cup.

And we cannot forget the Fashion. Cath (my mother) likes to call it my mariam the librarian scheme; but I cannot help my love and passion for turtlenecks and cardigans. There is something about the way the turtleneck embraces every crevice of my torso and protects that dangerously naked neck. The way I can run around in tights and BOOTS! I delight in how a hooded sweatshirt can let you remenisce back to old high school football games. Scarves and mittens are allowed to be awakened from their hibernation from boxes packed away in the spring.

Tonight, as I was finishing up my daily 9mile jaunt in Bryan park my favorite park(the baby/dog park as I like to call it). I could hear the leaves creak and crackle under my feet, the wind glided through my chest, as my eyes dashed from side to side trying to take in the beauty and vibrancy that enveloped me. I saw my favorite tree. The tree that if you walk all the way around it, each side has a different color orange, red, and green. It has the same uniqueness and old time splendor of ancient architecture. It shows its plumage to me like a peacock does to its mate. I am awestruck each day I pass it.

Unfortunately, I know that very soon the splendor and vivaciousness of the leaves will pass only left with the brown naked bark. A reminder to me that time scurries on even if I feel like I am running in place. Thus, let us raise our glass to Fall, my hero, my lover, my friend, let it last while it can.....until we meet again.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


I just can't rave enough about the liberating feeling of traveling alone. I have done a lot of traveling in my days, but have never gone somewhere and not known a soul. Thus my journey begins. I love to run and have somehow incorporated it into another passion of mine traveling, in short I run marathons in places I have never been before in order to explore the unknown. My adventurous spirit led me to Portland, OR a city I owe more than any currency can buy. I feel like it is important to preface this story with my history--never had a serious boyfriend, don't go on alot of dates, and busy medical student. From the moment I set foot in oregon my luck was on the up and up. First of all the people were amazing; everyone so friendly and kind always willing to help a girl out from directions to shopping. My hotel AMAZING (check it out) It was the local gathering place for natives of portland and guests. On the Max(their public transportation) I struck a conversation up with the guy standing next to me. It was one stop later and he asked me if I would like to do dinner. Like entire dating percentage had gone up by 50 %. I went and had a lovely time no expectations of if he was going to call or if i ever wanted to see him again it was just people getting to know people.

There are many things that I delight in and one of them is a good farmer's market. I cannot express to anyone the innate beauty that was before me. I just remember standing in the middle of the market with tears streaming down my face. It truly was one of the most gorgeous displays of fruits and vegetables my eyes have ever seen. I walked around as if in a trance from one fruit vender to the next. I even asked the perfect artichoke vender wearing a scarf the perfect color of artichoke green if i could take her picture. I not only was enchanted by the lifestye of the city, but also the vibe that resonated within its city borders.

I think it is comical how life has a way of handing you exactly what you need. I was studying in the lobby of my hotel in the foyer. I remember this mysteriously handsome young man sat next to me. I continued reading about parasitic worms as if i had some interest in them, but all i could think about was how the guy next to me might be a model. It just happened he asked me about my light reading and from there it's history. We chatted for the next hour about life, books, and the city. As I got up to leave for dinner, I will never forget how the thin, blonde hair, perfect smile guy asked lil' ol me if I wanted to have dinner tomorrow. In the world of Jen Pasko this is an anomaly. Things like this don't happen. I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by.

This date I guess for a lack of a better word was probably one of the most sexually liberating experiences you can only imagine in movies. He picks me up, and in all honesty I was nervous, he had drove his car and all I could think of as I hopped in was OH MY GOSH HE IS GOING TO CHOP ME UP INTO LITTLE PIECES..........I mean I had only know the guy a total of 2hrs. Yet, he took me to this vegetarian sanctuary where I dined,wined, and laughed all evening. However, all good things come to an end. As we pulled up to my hotel, I kept thinking ok when are we going to make out... but nothing. So I said goodbye, confused and headed up to bed. I had just slipped into my pajamas when I received a text message. The text was from Riley: I know its late but I don't know if I will ever see you again and I didn't even kiss you even though I wanted to is it to late to stop by? Ok me a sucker -it worked. I replied with smile and a chuckle- meet me on the mezzanine. I tromped down the stairs with my side ponytail and pj's and was greeted by that all too gorgeous face. We sat down on these bar stools and just started making out. Believe me, if you knew me not really my style in any other circumstance this never would have happened...Ever. I just remember laughing as people sauntered upstairs as I was participating in the most public display of affection of my life. Perhaps the thing that struck me most was the gentle tremble of his hand that caressed the small of my back. He trembled while I was as cool and calm as I had ever been and couldn't help but smile. The thought that this gorgeous man was nervous or at most vulnerable was one of the most beautiful discoveries of this entire trip. I will never forget Riley though I think we both knew we would never see each other again, maybe that is what made it that much more exciting. Yet, I will be forever grateful for the new found confidence that he instilled in me, and the brief moment that he let me capture my very own"Scarlet O'hara" moment.

Making progress

I often am in a quandry about how we define progress. As a medical student my progress is constantly based about how well I do on tests.( I'm not going to lie I might be the finest No. 2 pencil scantron bubbler in the world, so step back). But in all seriousness should we not define our progress based upon the knowledge obtained and our mastering in implementing it. It is only recently that I believe that I truly have made progress in my life. I in my own way have stumbled upon the things that make me tick. For so long I have been concerned about making others happy, being the best, and being everything that I am not and somehow along the way I realized that none of this is progress, but a lousy attempt to prove my value to myself and others. I have realized that my definition of success has drastically changed over the years , and that I no longer will sacrifice my happiness for a society driven ideal of success. Therefore, my first blog is in honor of progress.....The progress I have made within myself (Oprah would probably call it soul searching) over the past years and the realization that the only measure of true success is in our progress. Example A: Technologically illiterate woman turns that my friends is progress.