prayer to pedaling. love eggs are fragile.

im so glad i have his love eggs.

whilst single, i invented a theory that has been well received by the general public entitled "pedaling." the theory behind pedaling is that instead of investing all of your love eggs into one crush basket, you get to know lots of people before making decisions like that. if that sounds like chinese to you, the point of the theory is that you should not invest in someone until they invest in you, and prematurely fall in love. instead you should pedal los of men and get to know them all better, until someone pedals back in your direction, and that is when you slowly start putting your love eggs one by one in their basket.

pedaling also means you are taking action, control of your life, instead of waiting around for some doinkhead boy to look in your direction. instead of waiting for a man to ask you out or falling more madly in love with that cute boy in your class every day even though he has never done anything for you and you have no reason to like him or think he would treat your love eggs kindly, you decide that you are in control of your life and you pedal, pedal, pedal. this means you flirt, you attend social gatherings by the dozens, you text many men, you get to to know lots of people, you have an open mind. it may sound like you are treating peoples emotions callously. this is not true. pedaling just allows you to see all the fishes in the sea, and not get treated badly by people who wont be careful with your tender heart. it is a screening process. it helps you get to know and get along with lots of different types of people. it helps you protect your love eggs until you know someone is not going to make an omelet out of them.

i would like to cite a success story from pedaling: my own. yes, it is true. i pedal pedal pedaled my way into nicholas cottrells heart, and yes, i asked him out first. i had just broken up with a bad bad boyfriend that i usually refer to as voldemort and was feeling low on self esteem and life. it was during this time that i created my POA, my plan of action. i had woken up a few days in a row feeling like life looked like a huge cloud of grey nothingness, so i decided instead of letting life and crazy ex-boyfriends control me, i was going to control my life. i decided i would do certain things everyday to love myself, like positive self talk, pray, force myself to go out when i really just felt like soaking my pillow with tears, and other things, and then i signed it with blood. ok, not with blood, just with red pen, but i was fully committed to my POA. pedaling was born in response to the POA, as i realized part of my past mistakes in dating came from my early emotional commitment before fully checking into if the boy i was dating was a crazy lunatic or not. i decided i needed to get to know several men and not emotionally commit to just one so early on, and wait until i found someone that knew the fragility of love eggs. i decided in order to do this i had to learn how to pedal. so i did. i tried not to give out my tender heart too fast. i tried to pedal in many directions. i tried to get to know people and not give out my love eggs to people that would just throw them around. i decided to love myself.

as part of pedaling i asked out nicholas cottrell. such a bold faced move you say. it was bold. but since i had not already emotionally committed, i didnt really care if he said no or thought i was in l.o.v.e. with him, because i was just seeing what was out there, and i didnt care what he thought. (he did, by the way think i loved him). (but i dont care). thank you pedaling, because nicholas cottrell is not the sort of boy i would normally date, and if i had not decided to open my eyes and broaden my horizon and just get to know people, i would have never given nicholas a real chance in my heart. he was not my type: he was not emotionally crazy, extremely weird and/or quirky, and a societal misfit. in fact, he was very very normal. but i pedaled toward him, loving myself along the way and remembering i was great so i didnt care if he didnt like me.

the rest is a long story that doesnt need to be published on the internet. it culminated in november 29,2008, when i officially stopped pedaling for time and all eternity. now normal nicholas and i live in the same house, play speed scrabble, take pictures of ourselves on my macbook to see who can get the most double chins, decide which celebrities are indie and which are bros, cry together whilst watching blood diamond, pledge to be real grownups and then eat spaghetti noodles with butter for dinner, read 4th grade civil war novels out loud in bed, and protect each other's love eggs with everything we have.

the point of my story is this: i dont think love is just something that happens magically one day. i dont think it happens magically any day. in my case, i had to take control of my life and do something. instead of sitting around and waiting, i went out and acted. it made me feel like i was in charge. the boss of my own life. this is applicable to all things i think, and i try to apply it a lot in life. victims dont get what they want. pedalers do. i had to stop giving my tender heart to creeps. i had to learn to love and respect myself, and i had to learn that it is okay to wait a bit before you give someone your love eggs. you have to make sure they deserve them. i learned that love is not when your heart skips a bit because the hott boy in your anthropology class sits next to you, or even when a boy write you a bomb.com poem that melts your heart. real love, at least in my experience, is when someone treats your love eggs with reverence and awe, cupping them in gentle hands, protecting them with everything they have because they know how fragile and beautiful those love eggs really are.

so if you are still out there and single and tend to date people that are l.o.s.e.r.s. like i did, i recommend pedaling. just try it. pedal pedal pedal your brains out. get to know people you wouldnt. dont invest love eggs just yet. be open minded. protect your heart until you know someone will handle yours gently, and give theirs back. love yourself a whole lot, because i think if you do that first, you will have a healthier and better relationship, and find someone that will treat you the way you deserve. take control. control feels so good. my mom used to tell me the only person who's actions you can control are your own, and its true. so control your own actions. be bold. ask someone out, but dont care if they say no, because who cares. youre great, and you will eventually find someone who thinks so too. ask lots of people out. tell yourself you are the bomb. never, ever date someone that does not handle your love eggs with extreme care. please dont, because i did, and you are better than that. your love eggs deserve the best. wait for that, even when its hard. and then one day after pedaling around you will put your love eggs into someones crush basket, and they will start giving you their love eggs back, and it will feel good and right. and maybe one day you will end up in a nest together, playing speed scrabble, and so so happy you married someone named normal nicholas that treasures your love eggs a whole lot.

prayer to a diamond that reminds me diamonds arent forever.

when my mom and dad got married, my dad couldnt afford a toaster let alone a diamond ring. so he bought his sisters diamond earrings and made them into a wedding ring. by made them into a wedding ring i mean he stuck them next to each other on a band. they looked like two eyeballs looking out at you. i was scared of it when i was young because i thought it was watching me. my mom loved the ring, because my dad gave it to her.

my mom had that ring until she went into surgery for her cancer the first time, and they had to take it off her finger with vaseline. my dad stuck it in a napkin and put in his pocket and then promptly threw it away. if you know the mehner family, that is not that surprising.

my dad decided to replace the thrown away ring with a beautiful, enormous diamond ring, the ring fantasies are made of. my mom usually wore it turned around so you could just see the band. she was very understated. she just liked being herself. but she loved the ring, not because it was beautiful and people were envious of it and because it glittered a lot in the sun and in artificial lighting in buildings, but because my dad gave it to her. she did not love it more or less than her first ring, just the same.

she died with that wedding ring on her finger. that beautiful, enormous, expensive diamond. and after she died i remember my little sister didi looking at her hand and looking at me and saying "she didnt take anything with her, not even her wedding ring."

it seems pretty obvious, but maybe its not, because we still run around all day trying to have the bigger diamond, a fancier car, a nicer ipod. we work lots and lots of hours so we can afford that new blender or house or whatever it is that we are hoping for. maybe its because most of us will not die today or tomorrow or even the next day. but my mom was 47, not very old at all, and she died. and she probably took memories and love and knowledge and all those good things that cannot be touched, but she most definitely did not take her wedding ring, because i saw it, still there on her finger when she closed her eyes for the last time.

when i got married, i inherited that wedding ring. i have a beautiful, big, expensive diamond on my finger. when people ask to see my ring they look over at my husband like "wow, you must really love her." we feel uncomfortable a lot. usually i get very nervous and blurt out "it was my moms ring!" so they dont think i am 23 and high maintenance. maybe some people would love it beacuse it is big and expensive and beautiful and probably what a lot of girls dream about. i love it, but hopefully not for those reasons.

i love it because it was my moms ring. i love it beacuse when i look at it i think about her turning it around so you cant see the diamond, cause she was embarrassed. i love it because when i look at it i remember that i may have a chunk of change on my wedding finger, but i cant take it with me. she didnt take it with her. and everytime i look at it, i remember that life is short. fleeting. and we can waste a whole lot of time chasing the wrong things, like big wedding rings and fancy cars and whatever it is that messes with our head everyday, but in a second it can all be over, and all that stuff will be left here.

someday i will die, and the wedding ring will be left on my finger, just like it was left on my moms. until then, it will serve as a reminder to me that life is short and beautiful and delicate, and you cant take it with you.