The Never Ending Quest for the Red Baron

Red Baron (http://www.redbaron.com/default.aspx) is truly the worlds best Frozen pizza. Nothing expressed the comfort of home like crispy crust Red Baron frozen pizza on a Friday night, while watching a chick flick on the big screen, with your dog on one side and the cats curled up at the top of the stairs.

Sadly, I don't live with my cats and my dog anymore, which I had mentally prepared for, so I'm ok with that, but now I have to live without the my Continent Soy Milk (http://www.8thcontinent.com/) as well as without my Red Baron Pizza, which I will again proclaim as the best Frozen Pizza to grace this earth. It's seriously Yummy! and I am so sad to be living without it.

I've been to countless stores in Manhatten in search of my Red Baron and Continent, but to no avail. It's all about the snooty pattootie healthy crap, or frozen Pizza's for one. How lonely does that sound? Sigh, I think next time I go home and bringing back pizza and soy milk. I know, it sound ridiculous, but I already checked Amazon, can't buy it there, so I'll have to fly it to me.

The Date

I went on a "sorta date" this weekend. With a young, and handsome guy I met in passing. We had a good time, but there were no sparks. It's too bad too because he's very handsome and educated, but alas, the chemistry wasn't there. Sigh Sight and bigger Sigh. . . It's just my luck. Or maybe it's just practice, whatever it is, it was nice to go out on a date, and have a nice time, without the pressure of anything more.

Then Maybe It Doesn't. . .or Perhaps So Slowly as to Make You Suffer More, First

They say time will heal all pain and I, in fact, wrote that one or two blogs ago, but the truth is, sometime time makes the pain get worse before it starts to heal. Similar to an injury. The initial pain isn't always as bad as the pain that comes a day or two later. It's been over a year now, and while he has moved on, my heart still aches with the pain of not having him around, worse than the night of our initial parting.

He monopolizes my thoughts, most especially at night, when I'm trying to fall asleep, and early mornings, when I wake in hopes to see him lying there beside me. There are nights where I feel like going one more day without his touch or the sound of his voice, is my punishment, or bad karma for actions I'd taken earlier in my life, or in a past life. Who knows. . . all that's true is that the pain is real, it's strong, and at times barely manageable. This is how I feel.

It's so unique, that feeling of closeness that encompasses you when you meet that person whom you fit well with. Not only physically, but it's like your mind, body, and spirit, although not always in agreement, are so in tune and so inline that even after only a few months there's the illusion of reading each others minds. You can almost feel one another's thoughts, and move in a synced rhythm of life. The closeness is at once scary and comforting, bust most importantly, it's sacred. Strong and sacred, and so powerful that sometime its power alone is too be feared, because loving someone so much, or feeling such a deep connection is too risky. Risky because at one moment you're one, but if you were ever parted, or if he were ever taken away, well, where would that leave you. Alone? Set to live you life looking for something just as powerful, if not more so. Thirsting for that feeling once again, and never knowing if it's possible to re-find it. And if it does come along, say the offer stands to feel it once again, will you run away? Is it better to live in the torment of life without it as apposed to risking it's being taken away once more? To what end does love itself become the enemy? After all, the cause of the pain that haunts my life and darkens my spirit was initiated with the warmth and glow of love itself. Until when should my heart no longer deserve to suffer?

The Good and the Bad of It

There are weekends where i feel stranded from this city. What's the cause of this isolation? Work on the subway. Work on the subway tracks is sometimes so inconvenient that it's easier just stay stay home in my "little town." The great thing about it, is that it makes me slow down, enjoy life, and explore my little town. It's also a cost saving strategy as the temptation to go bar hoping in the city is easily eliminated. (Although that doesn't mean that I won't go around in my city.) So that's the good of it, good rest and adventure without going more than a 2 mile radius. The bad of it, only that I'm cut off from the city and my gym. At least the weather is good this weekend, and I'm thinking that a ride around Rosevelt Island is in store.

Time Really Does Heal All Pain

My mom sent me a box of old pictures this week. It was full of old photographs of High school and college, and among those photos were a couple if pictures of my old friend Emily. She passed away in a car accident just after turning 21. It was a pretty tragic event. It happened on her way home for Thanksgiving dinner, and i had a very difficult time coming to terms with her death. Even though I know she came and told me good-bye, and insisted that things were good now. I was angry. I was angry at God for the longest time for taking away my friend. And, I felt guilty for the longest time for not having been a good friend. She was the first of a trilogy of deaths that came later that year and the next. Coupled with my parents divorce, it made for a damn hard couple of years.

I feel like a fool now, when I think back at how dramatic everything seemed to me back then. Like why couldn't the whole world stop when my friends died. Why couldn't everyone share in my pain, feel my grief, and hold me in the time of my sorrow. It was a very hard time, and there were days were I didn't think I'd be able to breath into the next day. Yes, breath. Because being surrounded by so much sorrow and confusion, weighed me down, and that weight sat right on my chest, making me work for every breath. Time slowed for a while, then stopped when I escaped to Puerto Rico for a summer (my never never land). When I returned, I still struggled with the sorrow, and wondered if it would ever end. It's taken almost eight years, but life has gotten better. The pain is gone, and the sorrow comes and goes, but mostly, I have come to terms with it all. I still dream of my friends, long gone. I like to imagine that we speak through my dreams, or sometimes even in waking life--that our bodies are just vessels for our souls, and that our souls live on forever. I feel a peace I haven't felt for a long time, and am happy that I can once again see these old photographs, and harbor a smile, and warmth that comes with the good memories under which they were originally made.