June Column

It’s not just a sprint, it’s a marathon

Relationships. Sometimes I wonder if they are just one huge maze that we are supposed to find our way through during our lifetime. Some of us, the lucky ones, make it through unscathed. They find the light and the end of the tunnel and they succeed. Others go ‘round in circles, hitting one dead end after another.

For some, staying single is a viable option. You only need to worry about yourself and your emotions. Venturing too far into the maze where the risk of getting hurt is too much to bear never even crosses your mind. You like being safe – safe from the possibility of having your heart broken, of having to pick up the pieces and start over.

I’ve never been one to play it safe. I like to throw myself, my all, into each and every relationship I experience, sometimes to my detriment. I’m a feeler not a thinker. I go with my heart first and when I fall, I fall hard. Unfortunately, this only leaves the door open for me to get hurt even harder. My relationships have all been unique and with each one I’ve learned a great deal about myself as a person. I’ve also learned a great deal about the kind of person I want to be in a relationship with.

I remember that my grandmother, the wise woman that she is, told me once that relationships, especially marriages, are one big cycle of falling in and out of love. It’s how you maneuver through the down turns in the cycle that determines the fate of the relationship. She loved my grandfather, yes, but they had their struggles. Their marriage worked though, because they were able to handle the hard stuff. They never gave up, never quit on each other. They pushed ahead and persevered.

The Buffalo Marathon was this past weekend. I had two special people in my life running in it. One ran the full marathon and the other ran the half. Both of them succeeded, crossing the finish line and accomplishing their own personal challenges. I’ve never in my life wanted to run a marathon and I don’t see that changing any time soon. But as I watched the runners tread the pavement, giving it everything that they’ve got, I understood their drive and determination.

A relationship is, in many ways, like a marathon. You start off with a sense of purpose; you know exactly where you want to go and what you need to do to get there. Those who try to sprint through it will most likely fail. A marathon requires endurance. Start off at a steady pace and pay close attention to your body, how it feels and what it is telling you. Sprinting won’t work for a relationship either because a relationship also requires endurance. And you also must pay close attention to your body and what your heart is telling you.

Much like a marathon, during a relationship you will experience a wealth of emotions ranging from elation to pure exhaustion, and from excruciating pain to pure satisfaction. Sometimes you’ll want to give up and walk away. But it’s those who fight through it and keep on running that feel the greatest sense of triumph once they cross the finish line.
The only difference between a marathon and a relationship is that in a relationship, there isn’t a finish line. There’s just a feeling you get when you look back at how far you’ve come, and you sigh.

It’s then that you know every step of the way was worth it.

Soul Patrol, Top Chef and more!

Last night was a crazy night in television! There were ten things I wanted to watch at once, okay - maybe not ten, but at least three.

First there was the Sabres game.Our home team is in the final for the west, which means if they win this series against Carolina, they go to the Stanley Cup Finals. It's so exciting! Especially since Buffalo is known for our mishaps in professional sports. Our winning basketball team, yes we had one, the Buffalo Braves took off for L. A., leaving us with an football team, a hockey team and a minor league baseball team. Though the Bisons have been very successful, they aren't recognized nationally because they aren't a part of Major League Baseball. So that leaves us with the Buffalo Bills and the Sabres to establish our sports reputation. The Bills have been to the Super Bowl 4 consectutive times, but this amazing feat is overshadowed by the fact that they lost every single contest. But we have light at the end of the tunnel. The Sabres won 4-3 last night against Carolina, and are leading the series 2-1. I kind of have a feeling, this might be the year that Buffalo wins a championship people!!!

Then, I was flipping back and forth between American Idol and the Phoenix Suns game. The Suns were winning, so were the Sabres, so I thought I'd watch the finale between Tayor Hicks and Katherine McPhee.



First of all, American Idol producers are the biggest cheeseballs on the planet. The show was one big eye roll overall, although I enjoyed seeing the women finalists bust out in their screaming red dresses. That was hot. Whoever writes the singles for the finalists need to be fired. It's Kelly Clarkson's "A Moment Like This" reworked and rewritten a billion times over. Enough. Time to get Ne-Yo up in there to write a hot song that matches the finalists styles. Taylor singing, "do I make you proud" was ridiculous. I don't even want to touch on Katherine's single because it totally was the wrong song for her style of singing. Lame. Ok - Taylor won. Soul Patrol in the house. While Taylor's antics may be somewhat annoying, the white boy can blow. I love his voice, especially when he sings Sam Cook or Otis Redding. I liked Taylor from his first audition. And Katherine, I adored her. She's so damn cute! I would have voted for either of them, but I don't vote. I just watch sometimes. American Idol lost some of its luster for me during the top 12 showdown. It was just eh. But I'm happy for Taylor.

Then there's Top Chef. I totally love that show! Maybe because I'm not that good of a cook myself. I don't know. I just think it's incredible how much these people know about food. And the stuff they come up with looks sooooo tasty! Anyways, the final was between Tiffiany and Harold. Personally, I would have like to see Harold and Dave in the finale, but I think for ratinds sake the judges took Tiffiany. She's a biotch - at least that is how she was portrayed. There's no doubt she can cook but her attitude and outlook sucks. There was a point when one of the guest judges asked Harold and Tiffany (separately) whether they cook for themselves or the customers. Harold said both, which makes sense. Tiffany pretty much said herself in so many words, which pretty much says it all. The view poll showed Harold at 97% for people who wanted him to win and Tiffany at 3% or something close to that. That too, pretty much says it all. Harold won - love it!!!!

After the Sabres won, Taylor won and Harold won - I didn't think it could get much better than that. Then I flipped back to the Suns game. I've like the Suns ever since Charles Barkley was on the team. The score was 114 - 105 with 3:43 to play and the Suns losing. But then, Steve Nash took control, hit a couple of 3 pointers and dished to Shaun Marion for a go ahead basket. Dallas came back and hit a shot with under five seconds to play. The score was 118 -117. The Suns took a timeout, regrouped, got the ball into Boria Diaw who dribbled, turned and drained a jumper with .5 seconds remaining. I was shocked - it was the best three minutes of basketball I've seen in a long time in the NBA.

The Suns won. The Sabres won. Harold won. Taylor won.

It was one hell of a night.

May Column for Outcome

The Ex Factor

X’s are a funny thing. No, I’m not talking about the kind you crisscross with O’s at the end of a love letter or mark up a chalk board with in order to execute the perfect play. I’m talking about the kind that lingers in your life even after they are gone, either physically or emotionally, and impact every newfound relationship you embark on. The kind that used to be the center of your world, the kind that you either try to forget, can’t forget or forget to call on special occasions for whatever reason. I’m talking about the ex-lover, ex-partner, ex-whatever-you-want-to-call-it or simply, the ex.

I’ve had a few in my life. Some I recall quite fondly, like my high school sweetheart who was such a sweet and caring guy. Then there was my first girlfriend who helped me take those baby steps out of the closet (though she later turned out to be somewhat obsessive). There are those who I cringe at the mere thought of, and think why did I date this person for so long? And other noteworthy flings who served as either some form of distraction or exploration at certain stages of my life.

While I’ve kept in touch with a couple of my ex’s over the years, I’ve never really had a solid friendship with any of them until recently. My former girlfriend, who probably should have just been my friend all along, is currently my closest friend. She knows me better than any other friend of mine, has helped me through some tough situations and knows how to make me laugh. All of these things are the kinds of qualities that I look for in a friend. Yet, because of the fact that we dated some situations that would normally be simple become complicated. There have also been some tough issues that have presented themselves between my current girlfriend and I as a direct result of my friendship with my ex. Even though the fact that we dated is more of an afterthought than anything else, there are instances in which we just cannot get around it.

Ex’s are unavoidable because as each new relationship blooms, there will always be a discarded ex lurking in the weeds. I know that I’m not the only one dealing with difficulty when it comes to this type of situation. My girlfriend is still trying to find a balance with her ex as far as their friendship is concerned and, of course, figuring out how I fit into all of that. Another friend of mind is going through such a horrible break up that I doubt she’ll even want to extend a bridge of friendship to her ex. To complicate things even further, I recently introduced my ex to one of my girlfriend’s friends. And it just so happens that they share the same ex. Got that? It’s an ever-continuing web of lesbian links, not unlike Alice’s chart on the “L-Word,” and it just keeps growing and getting more intricate as time goes on.

I don’t see my ex fading out of my life anytime soon and I am doing my best to ease the situation for all parties involved. It isn’t always easy and at times it’s more work than anything else, but in the end I think it’s worth it. I get to keep all of the good stuff, the stuff that made me like this person in the first place, the shared jokes and the things in common.

Can we ever truly form a symbiotic relationship between an ex, a new partner and ourselves? I don’t know. I’m not an expert or anything. I think that if the situation can be a positive one, then yes it is possible. But this kind of friendship will only work if you are able to let the negative stuff go. Sometimes it isn’t a healthy to remain friends for either person. It’s then that you pack the memories worth saving up in a little shoebox, slide it in the back of the closet and continue on with your life. You don’t have any intention of looking back. But you will look back and it doesn’t matter if it’s with love, regret, sadness or relief. You will always remember your ex, shoebox or not. It’s just a fact.

And that’s the ex-factor.

My Birthday

Today I turn 28 and so does my twin brother. This past weekend, Melissa threw me a surprise party. I’ve never had one before and it was by far the best birthday experience of my life so far. She was soooo good! She snuck around all week preparing for it and I had no clue. When we arrived home from dinner, a living room full of close friends jumped out at me and I was baffled, excited, scared, startled, and embarrassed all at once.

Then, to top it off, Melissa brought out the birthday cake. For those of you who know me pretty well, it should come as no surprise that I love the Kansas City Chiefs.

Check out the cake!





My birthday is going well so far. My boss’ wife made a plate of chocolate covered strawberries for me and my co-workers brought in snacks. It’s a beautiful day outside and later I’m going to dinner with my father, grandmother, Melissa and Melissa’s mother at a cute little Italian restaurant for some chicken parm.

It usually doesn’t take much to make me smile. And after this past weekend my face hurts from grinning. Here’s to another year older, and another year ahead of wonderful things to come!

Boston Tomboy

Ah ... I’m back in the B-lo. Boston was fun, but it’s a relief to be out of the traffic, noise and crowds of people. For me the city is good in small doses, like chocolate. The ride there and back was awesome because Tray and I got to talk, I really do love our conversations and it’s been awhile since we’ve had a detailed one. I know she’s planning on moving to North Carolina in a few years and I want to make more of an effort to hang out with her. Allison is the big 30 now, her party was a success and I think she was pretty satisfied with the turn out. On Friday night we decided to hang in and watch Gone With The Wind. It was the never-ending movie, but I could see why it’s considered such a classic. I’ve never read the book, I know I know. I’m a writer. Why wouldn’t I have read a great American classic like this one. The answer is: I don’t know, I just never did. I can appreciate it but it’s not the kind of book I’d want to settle into an easy chair with. Watching the movie satisfied my curiosity. Well, 75 percent of the movie actually. We never finished it.

You know, I was thinking. It’s hard to write about personal stuff in here because I know that my family, as well as bunch of random people, read this. I have journals at home that I can use to write my own private thoughts in but today I’m feeling zesty I guess.

First thing on my mind: When we were strolling around Boston on Saturday we stopped in a bookstore. Bookstores bring up a whirlwind of emotions within me. Sometimes I get so inspired that I want to race home, flip open my lap top and create another story. Other times I feel so overwhelmed. I peruse the fiction section with an open mind, and yet I can’t help but wonder what it might feel like to have my own last name be organized alphabetically on the bookshelf. I take the time to read some of the book jackets and think: how did this get published? A lot of stories have the same plot – a single woman who struggles through her thirties, meets the perfect man along her travels and has to choose between him or her career, him or another man, or him or her pride. I prefer the “out of the box” novels because those are the kinds that I find entriguing, and those are the kinds I write. Sometime I feel like I’ll be there soon, but then sometimes I feel like it’s light years away.

Second thing on my mind: My femininity. It seems like it’s been a prevailing issue this weekend. On the way to Boston we stopped at Tray’s Mom’s house and spent the night. I left my hair gel there, the kind that keeps it all spiky. It’s the only kind that works for me. So on Saturday, when we were getting ready to walk around the city I realized I forgot it. (there’s a point to this, I promise). Allison had some hairspray and some mousse but it didn’t help. My hair was flat, and since my hair is so short, when it’s flat it looks more like a boy’s cut. We walked around the city and every store window we passed, I saw my reflection and it actually bothered me that people might assume I was a boy or assume that I am trying to be a boy. I know that I am a tomboy and that’s perfectly fine by me. I love who I am, but it pisses me off when people assume that because I don’t wear skirts often or tight fitting jeans that I want to be a boy. I have never in my life wanted to be the opposite sex. I love being a woman. But it doesn’t make me any less of a woman because I dress a certain way or because I have short hair. I don’t think that people (people who don’t really know me) realize what a struggle this was for me. I spent my years of high school trying to be something I wasn’t. I always knew I was a tomboy but for some reason I thought it was wrong. I tried to dress like every other girl, I tried to care about make up and grew my hair out past my shoulders. I tried so hard and I failed miserably. What I succeed at is being me. Being comfortable with the clothes I wear and knowing that I’m a woman through and through regardless. I wish other people could just accept that. I’ve spent enough time analyzing myself and I don’t need other people to do that as well. I’ve finally found a place where I feel comfortable. I wear a mix of boys and girls clothes, not for any other reason than for style (my unique style) and comfort. Don’t get me wrong, having to wear a dress in a wedding isn’t a traumatic experience for me as some may think. It doesn’t make me cringe and I’m perfectly fine showing off my legs on occasion. But I don’t pretend to be ultra feminine because I know that’s not me. I don’t pretend to be anything but who I am. And for people to question that, it stings just a little bit.