I was on the train to my girlfriend Stacie’s house the other day, when it happened AGAIN. I say again, because ever since the first snow rolled around in October, I have been on a weekly, sometimes bi-weekly replacement program. One of the many ever-so-awesome things about winter are these super sweet hand accessories you Northerners call gloves. But, for a Southern girl with an obsession for texting, I simply refer to them as the biggest pain in the @$$. Sure, they may come in handy when your fingers are frozen and on the verge of falling off. And they’re cute additions to any Santa inspired ensemble, but other than that they are simply one more thing I have to keep track of once I get to my destination. And the fact they come in pairs???.. The absent-minded’s worst nightmare. First it was the ever elusive pair of socks that were always going MIA in the dryer. And now, there were gloves. And unless you are bringing back the days of Billie Jean and Thriller, you better have two of them.
Ever since there was man, it seems we humans have had a knack for putting things in pairs. Whether they be animals on an ark, a pair of gloves, or even bicycle wheels, it just always seemed more symmetrical to find an object’s other half. Maybe that is why in the midst of finding our way through life and our own career paths, we often become sidetracked with the ever plaguing problem of finding our mate. And like that missing sock (or in my case glove) it seems, the more we look for it the less likely we are to find it. So some of us just give up all together.
Sometimes we become so preoccupied in our search for the “one”, that we lose the part of us that makes us who we are. I am no exception. In a time when I’ve watched many of my high school friends run off, get married, and have kids, I often wonder if I maybe… I missed the Ark. Their lives seem so complete and so happy and fulfilled, while mine seems… well, one big chaotic mess. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and would curse the day I had to resort to the monotony of a nine to five, but there is still a part of me that longs for some kind of constant variable to hold this mess together. Some stability??
Turning through the pages of my yearbook, it seemed everyone I knew was settling down. People who never ran in the same circles were suddenly sending out engagement announcements and wedding invitations. Homecoming kings with band dorks, stoners with valedictorians, Quarterback of the football team with the head cheerleader (well, some things really never change). It was the Breakfast Club’s ten year reunion. (!@#$. Has it been almost ten years?.. REALLY?.. ) Some of my classmates have kids that are starting school already. And some of them take their kids to the same pediatrician I still go to in case of emergencies. What alternate universe have I entered???
Why is it that we humans are always pairing off?... All my friends try to set me up with Mr. “I know this guy that is so perfect for you,” when in reality I’m simply reliving the vicious cycle of narcissistic fist pumping Northeasterners that is my dating pool Can you say.. “Check please??”
Every time I would lose a glove, I’d spend half a day or so looking for it, and suffering in the bitter cold, before I would bite the bullet and pony up for a new pair. My dad asked why I didn’t just mix and match pairs or turn one of them around. Was he serious??.. First, gloves were made to fit specific hands so wearing it would only make my hands even more awkward in their operation than they already are in this twelve degree frozen hell. And as for the whole mix and match theory?... Psh.. I am a girl, not Stevie Wonder. I’m pretty sure people expect me to get dressed with the lights on. If I show up with one brown glove and one blue glove?.. Hell, even Carrie Bradshaw wasn’t that fashion forward. It’s like, “hey everyone, look how ridiculously hot I look, as I get my right hand amputated due to frostbite!!!!”
Don’t get me wrong, I see absolutely nothing with settling down. As I said, I welcome the stability. But I am certainly not going to date a blue glove just because I lost the black one. And I’m definitely not going to try to change the other person, or make them fit the mold of what I am looking for. Then no one is happy, because we’re all just trying to be what everyone expects of us. My theory has always been that if it’s right, it will just fit. And if the glove don’t fit, well… then you must split. After all, why settle for something that isn’t perfect, isn’t a real match?.. For the sake of not being lonely???.. That’s no reason to enter any kind of relationship, and inevitably someone will end up left out in the cold.
The great thing about gloves is that while they may get lost by themselves, they’re almost always sold in pairs. And in NYC, they can be found at just about every street vendor. I don’t need the hefty price tags or expensive labels, just that warm fuzzy feeling that takes the edge of the cold winter air’s bite. Besides, when you find the perfect pair that fits you just right, well… you just can’t beat that feeling.
ADMIN UPDATE:
ADMIN UPDATE:
Every time I would lose a glove, I’d spend half a day or so looking for it, and suffering in the bitter cold, before I would bite the bullet and pony up for a new pair. My dad asked why I didn’t just mix and match pairs or turn one of them around. Was he serious??.. First, gloves were made to fit specific hands so wearing it would only make my hands even more awkward in their operation than they already are in this twelve degree frozen hell. And as for the whole mix and match theory?... Psh.. I am a girl, not Stevie Wonder. I’m pretty sure people expect me to get dressed with the lights on. If I show up with one brown glove and one blue glove?.. Hell, even Carrie Bradshaw wasn’t that fashion forward. It’s like, “hey everyone, look how ridiculously hot I look, as I get my right hand amputated due to frostbite!!!!”
ADMIN UPDATE: 
