It's been understood that there's an uncanny connectedness between the Beets. As you know, one of our own, my Twin, has spread her wings and embarked on an adventure in a far away land with the love of her life, we'll call him, um, Iron Man.
So, with an ocean between us (T3, Beets and myself in Manila, and Twin in Toronto), the Beets utilize every means of communication to stay in touch—our medium of choice: BBM.
Sometime last week:
It was late at night (in Manila) and from another city on a different continent (Toronto), Twin sends the Beets a picture through BBM.
 |
| 5:35 pm in a bookstore in Toronto. |
I couldn't believe my eyes. I rushed into my room and sent the Beets this picture:
 |
| 5:36 am on my bookshelf in Manila. |
Ready for another link in the connection? This journal was given to me several years ago by BEETS!
Imagine:
Three years ago, on a trip abroad, Beets came across this journal and thought of me. She gave me the journal. Enamored by the message on the cover, I actually used the journal (and still do!). Three years later, present day, across the Pacific, across the Canadian landmass, the same journal catches Twin's eye and inspires her to send the Beets a picture—unaware that its own twin was lounging on my shelf.
Conn.ec.ted.ness.
I decided to go through my old journal and reminisce about the silliness of being young. With a smile and slight shake of my head, I opened the journal to its first page:
Yes. It's a bit silly but I do tend to name all my belongings. As you may already know, my laptop's name is Darla, my car's name is Jibby (I'm driving again, BTdubs, and Jibby's on the mend), and so my journal's name is Carrie Bradshaw. I feel like naming my things makes me appreciate them more. I get affected when they're damaged, worried when they're lost, and feel proud when they out-perform my expectations.
And the names really stick.
In college, Darla got a bug and I had to take her to the IT people. My roommates would ask, "How's Darla feeling?", or "When's Darla coming home?" When she got better they would ask "Can I see Darla for a sec?" (they needed to borrow her), or "Can you take Darla with you to rehearsals?"
It got to the point where I named shoes. Not combined pairs—each shoe had a name.
Me to roommate: "Hey Zak, I can't decide. Beyoncé and GaGa are fierce, but Rihanna and Steggo are super comfy."
Zak: "Beyoncé and GaGa. Definitely. Although I do like Rihanna and Steggo... They're fierce too."
Me: "You're so fired."
Sorry, I digress. Back to Carrie.
As I flipped through pages of names, feelings, daydreams and experiences, I happened across my own list of rules to live by (albeit slightly less wholesome than the list of rules on the cover):
The instructions on Carrie's cover have always been my approach on living life even before she was given to me. Those rules are exactly how I want to live my life for myself. I'm very much a carpe-diem-live-like-there's-no-tomorrow-appreciate-the-now type of soul. I'm an optimistic realist (I'm a walking paradox): hope for the best, plan for the worst.
Now, when it comes to living with and amongst others, I felt like the rules had to be a little bit more specific. The golden rule is my mantra: "do unto others as you would have others do unto you"; live and let live. After reviewing countless case studies (friends' relationships) and my own experimentation (trial and a lot of error), I came up with the set of rules above.
However, after a little more trial and even more error, I think that a few amendments should be made to this list.
"Do not make the first move"—it would totally suck if this rule was followed by the other party involved as well—you'll end up nowhere—fast. I'll be honest, I'm still working out the kinks on this one.
Now for the line:
"Flirtation with any of the above is totally acceptable", I have written an addendum that reads as follows:
Note on note on sidenote: Practice with caution.
It's funny because rules have never really been my thing. They can be appealed, changed, rewritten, bent and broken. They're effective until they aren't. Nothing is absolutely absolute (Is this statement a rule?).
Instead, I see them as temporary, extremely reliable guides—not hard and fast, but pretty darn solid. And as far as guides go, I find the following super kadooper useful:
How can one go wrong?
<3
Three years ago, on a trip abroad, Beets came across this journal and thought of me. She gave me the journal. Enamored by the message on the cover, I actually used the journal (and still do!). Three years later, present day, across the Pacific, across the Canadian landmass, the same journal catches Twin's eye and inspires her to send the Beets a picture—unaware that its own twin was lounging on my shelf.
Conn.ec.ted.ness.
I decided to go through my old journal and reminisce about the silliness of being young. With a smile and slight shake of my head, I opened the journal to its first page:
 |
| "live with intention. I am a journal and my name is Carrie Bradshaw." |
Yes. It's a bit silly but I do tend to name all my belongings. As you may already know, my laptop's name is Darla, my car's name is Jibby (I'm driving again, BTdubs, and Jibby's on the mend), and so my journal's name is Carrie Bradshaw. I feel like naming my things makes me appreciate them more. I get affected when they're damaged, worried when they're lost, and feel proud when they out-perform my expectations.
And the names really stick.
In college, Darla got a bug and I had to take her to the IT people. My roommates would ask, "How's Darla feeling?", or "When's Darla coming home?" When she got better they would ask "Can I see Darla for a sec?" (they needed to borrow her), or "Can you take Darla with you to rehearsals?"
It got to the point where I named shoes. Not combined pairs—each shoe had a name.
Me to roommate: "Hey Zak, I can't decide. Beyoncé and GaGa are fierce, but Rihanna and Steggo are super comfy."
Zak: "Beyoncé and GaGa. Definitely. Although I do like Rihanna and Steggo... They're fierce too."
Me: "You're so fired."
Sorry, I digress. Back to Carrie.
As I flipped through pages of names, feelings, daydreams and experiences, I happened across my own list of rules to live by (albeit slightly less wholesome than the list of rules on the cover):
 |
| De-skankify your life. |
The instructions on Carrie's cover have always been my approach on living life even before she was given to me. Those rules are exactly how I want to live my life for myself. I'm very much a carpe-diem-live-like-there's-no-tomorrow-appreciate-the-now type of soul. I'm an optimistic realist (I'm a walking paradox): hope for the best, plan for the worst.
Now, when it comes to living with and amongst others, I felt like the rules had to be a little bit more specific. The golden rule is my mantra: "do unto others as you would have others do unto you"; live and let live. After reviewing countless case studies (friends' relationships) and my own experimentation (trial and a lot of error), I came up with the set of rules above.
However, after a little more trial and even more error, I think that a few amendments should be made to this list.
"Do not make the first move"—it would totally suck if this rule was followed by the other party involved as well—you'll end up nowhere—fast. I'll be honest, I'm still working out the kinks on this one.
Now for the line:
"Flirtation with any of the above is totally acceptable", I have written an addendum that reads as follows:
Note on note on sidenote: Practice with caution.
It's funny because rules have never really been my thing. They can be appealed, changed, rewritten, bent and broken. They're effective until they aren't. Nothing is absolutely absolute (Is this statement a rule?).
Instead, I see them as temporary, extremely reliable guides—not hard and fast, but pretty darn solid. And as far as guides go, I find the following super kadooper useful:
Live with intention.
Walk to the edge.
Listen hard.
Practice wellness.
Play with abandon.
Laugh.
Choose with no regret.
Continue to learn.
Appreciate your friends.
Do what you love.
Live as if this is all there is.
How can one go wrong?
<3
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