The Handsome Theory

I've yet to use it in any of my poetry or other literary expressions, but I've heard it been used in both masculine and feminine forms. I really prefer to use the word when relating to masculine subjects, but I won't deny that when used properly it can be equally as flattering.

Handsome - it's such a beautifully adaptive word. Like beauty in general, it varies from eye to eye, thus eliminating the idea of a standard. Unfortunately it seems to be terribly underused, as if it's outdated or obsolete. I have my own personal theory behind the word itself and its meaning. I suppose you could call it my own connotation that I've applied to the word as I've experienced it in my life.

I never was one to find myself complimenting men, probably out of spite due to their lack. But as I've matured it's become slightly less awkward and handsome, next to spiffy, is usually my descriptive word of choice, possibly because the word itself is a mature one. It's everlasting.

A handsome man isn't just handsome for a moment. He always is. Almost as if it's an inherent part of his being. From one second in time to the next, it just gets better. Like you missed something in your first glance, and then continued to omit that certain something even after and 2nd, 3rd, and 4th peek.

With each passing look you discover a different glimmer in his eye or even a single piece of hair that has managed to place itself even more strategically across the brow of that special someone. And regardless of whether one is 24 or 40, and separated by a significant number of seconds, he's still just as handsome, if not more.

It's not something one outgrows. It's more like a good wine. It just gets better with time. But it's just a theory.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

It's no military secret that I am less than fond of my neighbors. I often feel as if the leasing process here has become more like a circus audition. I'm not above admitting that I'm a little quirky, but at least I don't fan out my dirty laundry over the entire complex. Thus, it is with great pleasure that I introduce you to my beloved neighbors.

Meet specimen # 1 from upstairs:

We'll call her The Med Student, since according to my landlord that is the career she is currently pursuing. Apparently too, this is supposed to make us kindred spirits, being that I am already in the medical field. Truth be told, I'm not so sure I buy into the whole song and dance, unless she sleeps with a medical textbook under her pillow and is learning to practice medicine through osmosis, in which case, it is my most sincere hope that I never encounter her practicing medicine at my hospital, because consequently I would be immediately impelled to resign. I am much more inclined to believe that she is working in the field of culinary arts what with all the noise that comes from the kitchen on a daily basis. There is never a day that I don't see her car in the parking lot or hear her herding a train of Wildebeast through her living room.

Meet specimen # 2 from downstairs:

We'll call her The Scream Machine, mostly due to the fact that this is what she does best, especially while engaging in what I like to call extra curricular activities, which run like clockwork between the usually silent hours of 2 and 3 AM. Ironically it seems that this trait just so happens to be genetic. The Scream Machine has a child whom I most affectionately refer to as The Siren. Like his/her mother, this child has an extraordinary lung capacity allowing him/her to cry at a maximum vocal potential for extended periods of time, mostly occuring after midnight.

Wanna move in yet?

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny

So much of what we believe about ourselves originates from our surroundings. And in the world in which we live, it's no wonder that so many people have contradictory views of beauty. I've always been a firm believer that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, which completely eliminates even the slightest notion of a standard. It's like Mag always reminds me, sexy is nothing more than an attitude, a belief.

Thus I've adopted a new way of thinking. Why should my confidence and feelings of self worth come solely from a compliment or lack thereof? Can't I feel genuinely beautiful independent of what a man or anyone else thinks of me?

Mom always say, "If you want to feel depressed about yourself just go bathing suit shopping." So in keeping with my new resolution, I decided to go twice the distance, hoping to negate the depression that Mom claims is inevitable, and thus bought not one, but two barely-there bikinis for this up and coming summer season. Now all I have to do is muster up the courage to wear them!

Love Is A 4 Letter Word

Despite the fact that this post comes to you 4 days post Valentine's Day, I'd never really consider love to an outdated subject. After all, don't we take each breath because of love? Should you feel nothing but love with every heartbeat? It would be sheer blasphemy to accuse God of being unromantic. Yet as with most things, we've taken this divine gift of love and twisted and mangled it into a human mess of suffering, which ironically is what we do best.

There are few emotions that can measure up to the pain felt by one whose love is not reciprocated. To live each day loving someone who you know will never love you in return can be as fatal as the most terminal disease. Experiencing such agony once should teach us against this practice. But it would be silly to entertain the notion that we have any control or power over who we fall in love with. In fact, it's usually those who we least expected to steal our hearts that do. It's the man who's "out of our league" or "not my type." Which begs the question, "What really is your type (especially when you consider the fact that you always seem to fall for the one who ISN'T your type)?" Better yet, and more generally speaking, "Does a type even exist?"

Try as we might, it seems that some of us are just simply genetically encoded with this as our default behavior. And so we live dreaming dreams that will never come true, and daily crying ourselves to sleep swearing, this will be the last time.

Morsel of Truth

Never do something just because there is a male involved, (particularly one in whom you are interested.) You are sure to be disappointed.

Southern Snowfall

Early Thursday morning I received a text message from The Second - it was snowing! Without even thinking I threw back the covers and headed outside in my PJ's for a quick frolic in fluffy coolness. Once I realized that one of my neighbors was watching me I quickly ran back inside. After warming up I was inspired to write something. I'm not quite sure whether I would call it a poem or not. You be the judge.

A silent snowfall gently descends on the residents of Chattanooga, TN.
The town has not seen this blanket of white in a couple years.
And as panic sets in for many I lean back to confront the heavens,
And receive this gift face first.
Glistening off the dark background of my peacoat,
Each flake expresses its individuality before melting into nothingness.
If I've ever felt joy,
Surely it is now.