i love you but i'm not IN LOVE with you.

This past weekend I was shopping with a close friend. While walking past a row of dresses, she stopped and pointed to one.

“Do you like this one?” she asked.

“Mmm I like it but I don’t love it,” I answered.

“Haha, R.,” she continued, “that’s so funny. My friend and I were just having a conversation about this last week! She said that when she goes shopping she separates things into categories-- she either likes something, loves something or has to have something.”

My mind immediately flashed back to some dressing room (I think at a Nordstom somewhere) where the room included labeled hooks: “Like it” and “Love it.” It was a brilliant idea for someone like me-- obsessively anal and organized-- who does that naturally. Now there were printed labels. Amazing. Fabulous way to feed into my OCD behaviors.

Anyway, after we decided that we weren’t in love with the dress on the wall at Anthropologie that day, my friend and I got to talking. Maybe this seems a bit shallow, but in some ways making this distinction between articles of clothing that we like versus love versus must have parallels our experiences with men.

Allow me to explain. A lot of girls in this world date someone because they like them. They don’t love them, and they’re certainly not IN LOVE with them. But, at the same time, they don’t hate or even dislike the guy they’re with, either. Sometimes the relationship is one of convenience, other times it’s one where one party settles for what they think is the best they can find in terms of a romantic partner.

We decided that it’s almost sad to be with someone that you don’t love or aren’t in love with. Granted, unless you believe in love at first sight, it’s going to take some time before you put your partner into one of these categories. Right now I’m talking strictly while ruling out new or budding relationships. You can’t pick which hook to hang that guy on until you’ve been dating for a substantial enough period of time to accurately decide. But, even then, please don’t hang any man (or woman) on a hook in a dressing room. That just wouldn’t be nice. And it might creep out the girl picking up the unclaimed merchandise. Just a thought.

Love certainly develops and grows stronger over time. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. What I’ve also learned is that usually it takes even longer to decide that you’re actually in love with someone. Believe it or not, you can’t fall in love with someone as quickly as you fall in love with that shiny pair of stilettos at Saks. When you do fall in love with a person, it’s actually more emotional than when it’s with a pair of shoes. (This is where it’s obvious that I’m completely different than Carrie Bradshaw and she’s not all my inspiration, right?)

This passing conversation with my friend did make me stop to consider something important, though. I’m not suggesting that it’s wrong to be with someone you’re not in love with-- we all know there are certain situations where it’s acceptable for that sentiment to be non-existent-- but I am suggesting that things are much better when you do find true love. It feels amazing to be able to say that you refused to settle for however long of a period of time and ultimately found someone that you’re really just in love with-- I guess more or less on a simplistic level like that little black dress that you hung on the “MUST HAVE” hook in the store. Besides, you wouldn’t go out with a heinous pair of pants that you really didn’t like, so why bother doing the same with a boy?

It’s also important to consider the difference here of “love” versus “in love.” Just for the sake of comparison and analogy, I’m going to say that love is when you deem a potential purchase to be something you love-- you really really like it, to the point that you care about if you buy it and really feel the need to label it as being more than just something you like. When you’re in love with someone, it’s like you snatched that scarf right off the rack and immediately threw it into the “must have” pile. You can’t live without it. You need it. You think about it, even obsess about it. Your life wouldn’t be complete without this goddamn scarf that’s going to cost you a day’s paycheck. Maybe your feelings aren’t rational, but they’re there and they’re real. You just have to have that freaking scarf or your life might fall apart.

Now, I really hope that no one ever feels that strongly about a scarf, but I also hope that you now get my point. There’s a difference between that accessory that you really want and the one that you have to have. There’s also a major difference between that guy that you really like and the one who puts a smile on your face when you’ve just had a miserable day. Those are the keepers and maybe, just maybe, unlike that scarf, they’re worth a day’s pay, or perhaps more.

A Commentary on Our Generation

It's true: my job isn't very intellectually stimulating. Sure, I have days where I'm crazed, days where I don't know which task to tackle first. All in all, though, as my friends so lovingly joke, I'm someone's "bitch." (Sorry to all you feminists out there, but it's true.) I support someone else, an MD who runs research labs that have discovered countless genes-- discoveries that have already saved some labs and will hopefully save many more in the future. Did I go to a highly-recognized school to support another person? No. Did my family have to shell out well over $200,000 just so that I could earn my meager salary that pays the rent but doesn't allow for a ton of disposable income? Nope, definitely not.

That said, I'm happy. Really, I am. OK, I know that doesn't sound convincing, but you just have to take my word for it. On a miserably humid day like today, I'm thankful that I don't believe in that I'm not drenched in sweat chasing four year olds through a sprinkler at camp like I used to back in the day. (I'm more grateful that I'm not cleaning up after their accidents post-sprinkler on any day.) In fact, I'm sitting here with a smile on my face (on the inside at least) because I'm covered in goosebumps from the chill of my office's air conditioning. And on days like this, believe me, it feels amazing to be inside a freezing high-rise in my jail-like cubicle; my small salary feels worthwhile. Plus, I work for a great company and with and for great people, so really, who am I to complain?

Overall, though, I am grateful. My job can feel "below me" at times and it for sure isn't comfortable getting myself out of bed and into the unpleasant weather, only to sit at my desk to schedule someone else's appointments and apply for his multi-million dollar grants. But each and every time that I feel like this flat out sucks (aint no classier way to say it, honestly) I remind myself-- thankfully I'm not at home. I also try to remind myself that maybe in some indirect way I'm helping others-- if I schedule my boss's time to take a breath or eat a bite of sandwich, I'm helping to manage his time so he can save lives.

Now, please understand, I'm not knocking any of my friends who are at home and living with their parents. I understand that people have loans to pay and that many people can't get jobs during these unfortunate times. I mean, according to the most recent estimates, almost 10% of the American population can't get a job. That's nothing to laugh at. As they say, tough times call for tough measures, and those measures might include moving back into a childhood home with a mom and dad who insist on attaching a GPS armband to their kid to monitor their whereabouts at all times.

What I don't respect, though, are the people who could find themselves financially capable of moving out and being on their own, but are unwilling to take any job that they consider to be in that "below them" range. I have plenty of friends like that-- friends who won't take a job that pays a decent salary because they don't immediately sense any upward mobility coming from that position.

As I rode the subway this morning-- my ultimate destination after Starbucks being this cubicle, of course-- I skimmed The New York Times as I always do. Now I wasn't actively thinking about this whole having a job vs. not having a job concept, but I think it's always in the back of my mind during my commutes. Anyway, one of the top ten articles, American Dream Is Elusive for New Generation: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/07/business/economy/07generation.html?_r=1&hp. The article essentially profiles a guy who's a couple of years older than me who sits home unemployed day after day. He turned down a job that offered him a $40,000 salary, feeling it would fail to lead him in a worthwhile direction and that the pay was too low. Meanwhile, his parents support him: they pay his rent, his cellphone bills and allow him send out only four or five resumes per week. (They're, of course, not enablers or anything.)

Let me tell you that when I was looking for work, I sent in close to fifty resumes per day. I did anything that I could to land a job. When I was looking to switch from one job that was too unbearable to the next, I was even willing to take a pay cut. A pay cut! Anything to maintain my independence. I would have rather sat and answered phones all day (with memories of my undergraduate career lurking in the background) just to be able to pay my own way. No job, I realized, is below me, and it shames me to think that so many of my peers are willing to mooch off their parents-- the same parents who have already supported them for well over twenty years-- just because they don't want to do something that, to them, feels degrading.

I don't know much about the business world, but I do know this: it looks much better to be doing a job like mine than to be sitting home and watching TV all day. No employer wants to know that a candidate spent the past sixteen months watching Hoarders and The Bachelor on DVR and Seinfeld on syndication. Getting up and going to work every day-- whether it's working construction or as an investment banker or scrubbing filthy toilets-- is a much more valuable use of your time.

So, to the people of my generation, I have to say that I almost plead with you: get up and do something. Prove your intelligence and your good work ethic, and that The New York Times has been portraying us incorrectly. And for the love of God, drop that Chipotle burrito, get off your parents' couch, erase that higher-than-though attitude from your mind, and work hard like the rest of us. Our grandparents, great-grandparents, even our parents did it, and there's no reason we shouldn't.


XOXO,
R.

PS: For more on how others perceive members of our generation, please see this article from a May edition of the New York Times Magazine: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/30/magazine/30fob-wwln-t.html. Again, another reason to prove everyone wrong.