I've been thinking a lot lately about perfect pairings: salt and pepper, wine and cheese, mom and dad. They go together in seemingly perfect harmony, bringing out the finest, most delicate qualities in their counterpart. When I stop and think about it, the prospect of complementing another human being (for eternity) sounds a little daunting. For as much as you might compliment one person, how can you be sure they will truly do the same for you? And if one is the loneliest number, then why do we try so hard to find the one?? Chew on that for a moment!
I've been on my own a little while now. I'd like to think it's not so bad really. Table for one please... yup, that's right... it's just me.
Searching for just the right one of anything sounds a little exhausting. It's difficult enough to find a pair of jeans that fit just right, let alone if I had to find a pair to fit me for the rest of my life. Yikes. They'd better be comfortable, durable, well made, and above all else, flexible.
Like most people, I tend to go through phases. One day, out of nowhere, I suddenly loved green olives. I hated them my entire life, until one day, out of the blue, I decided to give them another try. And just like that: POOF! Sparks were flying and violins were playing as I savored the little green olive, as if for the very first time. From that moment on, I couldn't imagine my life without them. They are freaking delicious!
Same thing happened with mushrooms, hot yoga, and drinking sake...What the heck??!!
Last night, as I leaned up against the wall of a moderately crowded bar, I looked around and saw an army of singles. It was so apparent who was flying solo in fact, that the scattered couplings jumped out of the mix and were quite easy to identify. Pairings of all shapes and sizes huddled together, lost in their own little eight ball, corner pocket of love. Some looked like they had indeed found the one, while others were definitely trying to squeeze into a pair of jeans that clearly no longer fit. It was amusing to listen to one couples' story of how they fell in love: after a drunken night at Taco Bell, waiting for a ride and asking for directions. To each their own I guess.
But they seemed genuinely happy and it stuck with me all night.
Looking around the bar I realized something profound, I may be just one, but I believe that is the right one for right now. And if one is in fact the loneliest number, well maybe that isn't so bad.
Here are some perks of being a party of one. Sleeping diagonally across the bed. Not having to sort the socks in the laundry. Knowing exactly when your coffee creamer is about to run out. Scoring the perfect seat in a crowded movie theater. Going to a book store and losing track of time. Taking spontaneous last minute trips. Easier access to emergency boats, exits and escapes. Lots and lots of time to write about random things, like a newfound love affair with green olives and late night fast food encounters.
In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that one doesn't seem like the loneliest number after all. I would argue instead that the loneliest number you'll ever have to face, is the one you haven't learned how to be alone with when you look in the mirror.
Fall in love with that one first, and you might never be lonely again. And any addition from there? Well that's just math made in heaven.
Today:
Raspberry Martini
1 1/2 oz of Grey Goose Vodka
1/2 oz of Chambord Liqueur
1/2 oz of Pama Liqueur
Splash of cranberry
Shake and strain into a martini glass
Flying Solo.
No comments:
Post a Comment