Like a babbling brook or rambling rose...

Too bad there's no H word to go along with that... Lately I feel like I have "nothing to say." Someone asks me how things are going, I will generally say "about the same" or "same old, same old" or something along these lines. These are the times that make me feel boring and wish that I had something exciting to contribute. The trouble is that when when things are not boring, that is generally not such a good thing. Not boring = drama in my world and I am against that.

Yes, I have been known to stir up the drama to have something to ponder, but on a general level -- not really a fan.

So, when there's "boring" what to blog about? Hence my lengthy diatribes on friendships and the meaning thereof. Perhaps if I were out developing hobbies I might pick up some of these friends I'm always whining about.

Indeed. But who has time for that?

I'd much rather be whining and babbling to you -- my invisible internet friends. Hello.

I could expose some of the truths behind the sacred walls of marriage. But, there really isn't anything terribly too exciting to reveal if anyone who wasn't involved in it would realize if they ever bothered to think about it.

Which is probably a revelation of something in and of itself.

So, let's ramble about that since I feel the need to clack on the keyboard and if I talk about Smallville anymore then I run the risk of scaring off my 4 remaining readers. (Although DAMN it was a good episode tonight! Juxtaposing good Lex and bad Lex with the question of what makes up our true nature?? You just did not ever get that stuff on Friends, I'm sorry.)

Marriage is a sacred thing. The religious spin on it alone is enough to "prove" that. But, society as seen through Hollywood really holds this out as truth. The fact that half of them do not work does not seem to be deterring anyone from believing that it's a big old band aid to cure what ails you. But, it's just crap. Marriage isn't sacred. It's just two people who have decided that they would rather exclusively put up with each other's crap than sort through the myriad of alternative crap that available out there. Generally, there is some sort of carrot that ultimately pulls you into this exclusive union and usually it's love. Or something we call love.

But let's be serious. What I think of as love and you think of as love are probably two different things. We are as different on the inside as we are on the outside so the idea that we could all have the same idea of what love means is ridiculous. There is no way it can mean the same to all of us because we all process things based on who we are. So, even though we are drawn to our mates by something called love, what they think is love and what we think is love may not equal out to be the same thing. There are lots of things that Scott does for me in the name of his love for me. And vice versa. (Not just the dirty things, you heathens.) But, does he do the things for me that I consider to mean love? Do I do the things for him that he considers love? Not always. Because how can we know unless there is a clear set of parameters? And who wants to have that when that seems to put limits on love? Isn't it more important to accept these love gestures for what they are and try to have your own gestures accepted as such in return?

Well, sure. But, that's not really that easy. That's what marriage is, I think. Figuring out what those guidelines are with someone who is willing to put up with your crap exclusively. At least, that is what I have so far.

I do know that I learn more on the journey with this man than I have ever in my life. So maybe this love stuff is something after all, eh?

On a skew tangent -- go see Fever Pitch. Thought it was totally adorable really addressed the theme of relationship sacrifices on a level heretofore unseen. More realistic, ironically. (No, I haven't read the Nick Hornby book and yes, I know that I should)

Also, JAR if you are reading -- happy birthday on Sunday! 31 girlfriend, you are officially in your 30's now -- suck it up! (The lemons after your tequila shots, that is)

xoxo y'all