With this Truth-- I thee Lose.

“The first reaction to truth is hatred.” ~ Tertullian.

The First Gray Hair

Today I saw my first gray hair and the excitement my younger self thought I would have felt upon seeing it simply disappeared. At twenty-three I’d hoped to accomplish more than what I have. Others may look at my life and hope to one day accomplish as much as I have. I own three small businesses, have a 4.0 grade point average, traveled to many countries and have almost seen every American state. Yet, I feel as though I have hardly accomplished anything, partially because I always tend to look at those who have more going on in their lives. I blame it on my environment or location if you’d prefer. The south is not what I would call the “land of fun,” but then again that depends on what your interpretation of fun is. If you think fishin’, hun’in’, mud radin’ and drinking until you puke your insides out is fun—then the south is the place for you.

I, on the other hand, have more of a 1950s mixed with a yuppie definition of fun. I’ve heard that term used many times—yuppie—but down here, I’ve always heard it used having negative connotation.  Man do I remember the days of high school classmates telling me “don’t be such a yuppie” when I’d decline the invitation to indulge in deer hunting. At that point I really didn’t understand what it meant—I just knew it couldn’t be a “bad word.” What exactly does it mean anyway?  Yuppie, as defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary, is “a young college-educated adult who is employed in a well-paying profession and who lives and works in or near a large city.” Okay, so I’m working towards the “lives or works in or near a large city” part, but I fit the rest of the definition pretty well. What’s wrong with that?

I look forward to the day I graduate with my bachelors in Marketing next May, move to a nice yuppie filled city (can we say San Francisco or Seattle?—hopefully the former), gain my MBA and shortly thereafter work on the “employed in a well-paying profession.” I look forward to the day I can sip on some hot tea (not a coffee person) while reading a sophisticated book in a small ma’ n pa’ café. I look even more forward to the days when I have many friends that share the same hobbies, activities and interests as I do—the kind of friends that say “Hey, let’s go hiking later.” How about the type of friends, who are willing and able (only a business student would use those two words together in the same sentence) to go on international trips say to the Greek islands or sunbathing on the shores of Beirut or Mauritius—wouldn’t it be great? What I would give have friends like that. I would gladly trade in the two friends I have now, whom I have nothing in common with besides the same gender, for a few of the other type of friends. I would gladly trade in some of my money just to be genuinely happy. And yet, I wonder is there such a thing as genuine happiness? Even if we had good friends, had a dream life, and had everything we ever wanted would it be good enough? Is contentment attainable?

J.T.

Where the !^@$ is Prince Charming?

"My night has become a sunny dawn because of you."--Ibn Abbad


As I watching Adam Sandler's 1998 flick "The Wedding Singer" I started wondering... Where the !^@$ is Prince Charming? The movie ever so teasingly ended with Adam Sandler singing a love song to Drew Barrymore to prove his love.

How about the "Twilight Saga" series? Two men fighting for the love of a woman who both happen to be good looking and willing to die for Bella Swan—a girl too fragile to defend herself and can’t seem to chose between the two.

The world of entertainment has raised womenfolk's expectations of what love is or should be. They have raised the bar for us so high that no man seems to fit the description of “Prince Charming.” The only movie to get it right was Shrek; they painted a true picture of what Prince Charming is behind the beautiful face. It took a kiddie movie to knock us back into reality and show us a good guy can come in the form of a fat, green, dirty, and sometimes annoying “creature.”

I am married to a good man—an honest, down-to-earth, funny, truly truly sweet man. The kind of man who looks at me with a burning passion that seems undying. A man who’s never said the word “no” to me and anything I want that he runs to get for me, and sometimes I don’t even have to ask—it’s like he knows already what I’m needing or wanting.

How many wives out there can say they’ve been married for almost three years and have only done the dishes maybe a handful of times? How many wives can say their husbands have breakfast ready for them every morning before he goes to work for twelve hour shifts? How many wives can say their husbands have never been mad at them? I can and anyone who’s ever met my husband can vouch for what I’ve said. I am madly in love with my husband, and yet I still find myself drowning in these romantic movies and novels—drowning to the point where I do not want to leave my fantasy land and coming back to the real world. I still find myself wondering—where’s my prince charming?Is it possible we will ever be content with whoever is given to us—even when he or she is the best thing that ever happened to you?

J.T.