Task 3: Hanky Panky

Four posts in two days?? Most people would say their muse is back. I say mine never left, I think she just took some speed while on a caffeine high. I even have more ideas for re-writes for my scripts! I just need someone to physcially chain me down and make me write. That was the good thing about college and grad school; deadlines.

So, I decided that along with being brave and admitting all the stuff I believe and have faith in, I should speak up about another subject I tend to stay mum about. The subject of loooooove.

I've never been a "wild child," so to speak. I never terrorized my parents with my crazy teenage behaviour (though taking the minibus home from downtown at midnight might fall under this category but in comparison to others' actions at my age, I'd say that's tame sauce. Huh, I've never said that before. I don't know why I chose this moment to start), never acted like a floozy, never did drugs of any kind (beer doesn't count and I've smoked pot maybe two or three times in my entire life) hell, I've never even been sent to the principal's office. I think this is why I love reading groupie biographies so much, it's like a vicarious high. They got to sleep with rock stars and run around the world without care of consequence, and though I'm not the sort to ever do that, sometimes I get that twinge. It's somewhere between jealous and envious but not strong enough to qualify as either and definitely not strong enough for me to go out and do it. It's not me. But sometimes, I wish it was.

You see, I've only ever been in one real relationship; my current one. I've been with my Elliot for almost five years now and before this, besides the odd flirtation that may or may not have lead to a bit more (come now, I AM a lady, I ain't gonna write about everything), there was no one else. Don't get me wrong, I have the type of relationship I often feel smug about. He's my best friend, and was even before we were dating, and though we have so much in common we never stop finding more things to enjoy together. We're also individuals that have our separate tastes that may or may not go over with the other but it's nothing that ever becomes a huge issue. It's always a delight to hang out with him whether we're having a nice movie date or just relaxing in the apartment while he plays video games and I read. We have a balanced life together that includes a circle of mutual friends but also allows us to have our own friends and to keep being ourselves so that we don't succumb to the dreaded couple curse; becoming a "we."

So what's the problem you ask? Well, there is none. I am quite content and wouldn't trade us for anything. But I also feel like I'm missing out on stuff. On the whole dating and love trials that everyone else seems to go through. Yes, I know I'm pretty lucky so don't roll your eyes. I'm well aware of my, "unique" situation. I've never been cheated on and I never will be, because I trust my boyfriend completely and he should too (me, not himself). I've never had a broken heart in terms of a relationship, never had to endure any of those cliches like waiting by the phone for him to call, and never had to worry about "competition," from other girls. We're also a little different from other couples in that throughout our relationship, we've had to put up with being apart for long portions of time. He spent a semester in Istanbul while I was in Boston, he was working in Iraq while I was home, and we've celebrated each others' birthdays and our anniversaries probably only once or twice in the same location. Which doesn't really matter because neither of us particularly cares about that stuff other than to go, "Hey! It's been so long! Yay us!" and neither of wants to be with anyone else either and this whole notion of long-distance relationships not working is moot (and bullshit) because hey, look at us.

So again, what's the probelem? I guess it's just the notion of the grass is always greener. What would it be like to be with other people, physically, emotionally, etc? What would it be like to just be a brazen free spirit? I don't to find out, I assure you the thought of not having my Erriot as a friend, let alone a boyfriend, is enough to make me horribly depressed, but the brain wonders and wanders, so to speak.

It goes beyond just the relationship aspect of wondering though. It makes me wonder about my whole personality. Sometimes I think I'm just so plain and boring I should just crawl into bed and stay there. Others have had such amazing lives and journeys and I wonder if I'm just in this closed off shell? How can I want to be a writer when I don't have anything to write ABOUT? Most inspiration comes from experience; Pamela Des Barres' whole career comes from sleeping with Jimmy Page and Mick Jagger and then turning it into literary gold. What have I got to write about? "Today, I went to school. Then I went with Kit and Deniz and Destine to have nargile (hookah) and tea. And since it was a Friday, we reaaaally let loose and had ice cream as well." I'm not exaggerating, this was me in high school but even my three best friends did more than that. I'm not going to reveal their lives because that's none of anyone's business but honestly, why did I end up with the short end of the extremely boring stick in every aspect of my life?

But the thing is, I really wouldn't, even if given the option by some magic genie, change my life. I love my family and the people I'm surrounded by. I love my relatioship and love life. I adore my friends. I know this, and I know I wouldn't change this but that niggling voice at the back of my head is so fucking annoying sometimes and you can't really ignore that voice because it's YOUR voice so it knows exactly which buttons to push. When I read Julie and Julia I almost wept with happiness because the author was also like me. She was so like me. One boyfriend her entire life, close family, wanted to be a writer, hell we both even have polycystic ovaries. But then she goes and has a torrid affair and manages to publish two books! What. The. Hell. I don't want to have an affair! I don't want to whore around with rock stars because as much fun as that sounds (and that's part of the problem, it does sound fun) because let's face it, the rock stars I would sleep with are all way past their prime and probably infested with new undicovered varieties of herpes and hepatitis. But why do I still feel this way!? UNIVERSE ARE YOU LISTENING?

That's not to say I haven't had many adventures I particularly treasure. I did go to college after all. A partiuclar night comes into mind. Let's just say it involed a friend's birthday, a hotel room, and about 10 of us in various states of mind. My mom reads this so I will not elaborate but don't worry it was perfectly fine, harmless good time. See? Even when it should be off-the-wall and illicit and exciting, it isn't because oh hello, Leyla is involved. I used to write for a variety of music sources and got to interview some of my favorite bands so there's me chasing my music dreams (no I didn't sleep with them, it would be kind of hard seeing as how they were all phone interviews). But while everyone has lifetimes of stories, I have these tiny gems that I hold close to me.

But these are fleeting thoughts and I know I have more ahead of me, maybe I'm just a late bloomer? I fucking hope so. Besides, it's better to have a handful of really priceless gems than a whole collection of tarnished costume jewelry, if that metaphor makes any sense. And I know there are at least a few more adventures ahead for me and Elliot because our Japan trip deserves several sequels. I think we're going to Hong Kong next. I should just stop whining and be thankful for what I have or shut up and actually go after what I want but that's part of the problem. I don't know what I want and I don't want to be a disappointment to myself and others I care about. Right now I'm caught physically between Boston and Istanbul but I think it's mental too and I don't know how to decide because decisions are the bane of my existence and I always seem to make the wrong one. Like when I missed the screening of a biopic about my grandfather and with 2,000 people in attendance I was the only one not there. Everything good seems to come with a sour edge to it; I'm an official reader now but am underpaid and haven't been receiving any books and the money's not even enough to live on! We're moving past the "Hanky Panky" aspect of this task but I guess it's all connected. I'm afraid of missing out on anything. I'm only 24 but I feel my time is running out but I don't know what the countdown is for.

Screw it all, let's just go back to India. I miss you Rajasthan.