I’d like to say I mirrored
the Celtics in 2008 and had a banner year. I certainly had my share of trades; some of whom I thought would be franchise players
who would help me create my very own dream team but alas, that pipe-dream ended abruptly in the very beginnings of the post
season, the Holidays, with my exceedingly high hopes, of each player throughout the year, deflated with disappointment.
As I reflect back on my relationships gone bad, I’ve noticed another common theme. The ones I
tell everyone about, that have the most promise of being part of my “dream team” are the ones that hurt the most
when they end. I think I know why…
It’s like when you slip and fall on ice
in private vs. public. If I’m going to fall, which I rarely do, btw, I would prefer 100% of the time there be no witnesses.
Less embarrassment. Unless I hit my head but, even that’s questionable. (I fell off a moped once, in Santorini, Greece
and hit my head on a rock. I saw stars and went cross-eyed for a second but, for the most part, I was fine.) Anyway, the relationships
that have produced the most heartache, post-breakup, are the ones I was so excited to share with friends and loved ones.
One of my saddest breakups was with the Elvis impersonator. His whole story tickled me every time I
told it so; I told it as often as I could. (Sometimes multiple times to the same people… Frankly, I think it tickled
them just as much because I often heard “Tell it again! What does he do?!”)
The
worst are the ones who make it to a family event. Elvis made it to dinner with my mom and step-dad. I’ll never forget
the look on his face when my step-dad elbowed him at dinner and said, “You know, we don’t care about a wedding
anymore. We just want grandchildren.” Then he proceeded to give him a “you-know-what-I-mean” wink. Elvis’
face turned white, mine turned scarlet. That was our last date. (Which is really too bad because I thoroughly enjoyed going
to his shows, polyester and fake sideburns didn’t horrify me as much as one would think…)
Anyway, everyone knows that bringing a date to a family affair is a statement. Oftentimes, the consequences are overlooked
in the planning. It always sounds like a swell idea but when the date nears, all of a sudden, it becomes a heart attack waiting
to happen. Anxiety levels rise as both parties wonder, “Is this a statement I want to make? Am I secure enough with
this relationship to share this person with the people I love the most? Are we to the couple stage yet or are we still flirting
with just friends? Will they like him? Will he like them? Will he form an opinion of me based on them?” And,
seriously, who is kidding who? You can’t help but think, “Is this a person I could spend every holiday with? Forever?”
Then, if it doesn’t work out, who is to blame? Family? You? Him? And, don’t forget, EVERYONE
has to know, “What happened?” So, as if the original embarrassment (that it didn’t work out after you sparkled
telling everyone about the highlights) isn’t enough, the wound has to be opened every time you see a family member that
met the offending party. Ugh.
So, what is the lesson? 1) Don’t introduce a significant
other to family until the engagement party. Who cares what they think, you’re the one that has to live with him. 2)
No more dating stories until they’ve run their course and ONLY if there’s a comedy of events to share or a lesson
to impart.
If my family is lucky, maybe the next dating story will start with the line, “Can
I just tell you? I’m engaged!” Besides, the Celtics stunk in 2007. Perhaps, I’m just a year behind…
Happy 2009! May your 2009 be an exciting but relatively quiet Banner Year with Your Dream Team filled
with prosperity, happiness and many blessings.
