bwucinski

Good Ole Country Boys

Posted on April 17, 2013April 18, 2013 by bwucinski in Dating

I may be from Texas but there ~~isn’t~~ ain’t anything country about this girl. As Carrie Bradshaw says, “Im whatcha call a bonafide city girl.”

But I’m seeing a wholeheartedly country boy.

But the thing is he’s not typical I guess. Sort of. Well he likes to read and listen to rock music (we met at a rock show, Hanna Barbarians, check em out they’re great). But he loves being outside. He calls me darlin. He drinks Miller High Life and thinks my craft beer is over priced and pretentious. Which lets be real, admittedly it may be a tad indulgent. He’s a welder. He welds for a living because he loves working with his hands. His hair is long because he doesn’t want to get haircuts. He drives a beat up truck. He has that southern drawl that everyone in Europe expects me to have.

Oh and he’s a ginger. I should mention that too.

But the ultimate thing that I’m attracted to him is his authenticity. It’s refreshing to meet someone who is just as honest about who they are and what they like as me. It’s not something I’m used to.

There’s nothing off limits with us. We talk freely and openly. It’s always goofy, sarcastic, playful, and honest. I smile a lot. But I laugh even more.

The most surprising thing about him though is how he’s challenging my idea of what life is supposed to look like. When I look at him and his life I see another road I’d never even knew existed in this map of life.

When I went to Italy I was challenged to see a vast array of options in the European landscape in order to escape the stress of my eventual American life. I saw how I could relax, enjoy a walk, drink coffee, all while being constantly inspired by the beauty and history of Europe.

With him I see this American life I haven’t ever truly thought possible. But here he is, a living embodiment of it. He lives in a farmhouse outside of Fort Worth with 4 other awesome dudes. They play music together (using a guitar, harmonica, and banjo) or play catch outside in the sun. They all work hard every day. They are all so blissfully content and maintain such a low level of stress I can’t help but remain at ease in their presence. I catch myself wondering how much happier a life I would lead if I didn’t go into the high-stress world of advertising, with a world of deadlines and demanding clients looming over my head. I wonder what it would be like to not live in a bustling city with nameless faces and negative energy swirling around me. I catch myself wondering so many things I’ve never considered that I have to take a step back and just breathe and enjoy the country air.

Added bonus? He’s just about the damnedest best kisser this side of the Mississippi.

Mind, Body, and Soul Project

Posted on February 19, 2013February 19, 2013 by bwucinski in I Can't Wait For, Shopping

Being single has been a blessing in disguise. It’s a never ending quest for self-improvement each day. Without the distraction of a boy or a relationship to occupy my thoughts, I’ve had time to reflect and change the things about my life that make me unhappy. I’ve tried to distill my plan to a manageable set of ideas that I hope to achieve on a daily basis.

Each day I do something to better my mind, my body, and my spirit/soul.

And you know what? It’s really working.

I feel better and happier at every small accomplishment for myself. Instead of getting wrapped up in the dramatics of life, I step back and think about the little changes I can tweak to make it a happy day, every day.

Mind

Each morning I wake up and start my day with a TED Talk. If you haven’t been exposed to this wonderful site yet, it hosts videos from conferences around the world where speakers present innovative, funny, inspiring, and new ideas. Please check it out if you have even just 3 minutes to spare.

I actually do my homework. Because let’s face it, a lot of college kids take our education for granted. A reading is something we highlight and skim over in order to have a vague understanding in case the professor asks us a question over it. God forbid we actually learn.

I meditate. I try to think about my actions, I reflect on what I say to people. I’m mindful. I try to create my own internal happiness and I realize that I’m capable of anything I set my mind to, whether that’s compassion, forgiveness, or personal growth.

Body

When I went through a weight loss phase, I went to the gym religiously, counting down the minutes I would endure on the godforsaken treadmill. I would then come home and eat steamed vegetables or boiled egg whites, compulsively entering my calories into a food diary. I only drank water. By that I mean no alcohol.

I literally and physically worked my ass off.

You can’t live like that forever. We’re meant to enjoy food in moderation. There are other ways to exercise without it feeling like torture. Now, I go to the gym each day and I run until I feel good. I smile while I’m there because I know that my body is meant to be used every day. I lift weights to foster a sense of strength, both internally and externally. I leave when I feel done, without the watchful eye of the clock looming over my workout.

And it all feels good because it’s no longer a chore.

Soul

The greatest part about my project is all of the aspects are interconnected. Each workout fosters happiness and satisfaction. Each new item I learn makes me feel empowered and intelligent. So ultimately the other two could be the only things I did and I would still feel wonderful inside and out.

Instead, every day I do something that I want to do wholeheartedly. Yesterday it was reading a book and making espresso. Today it’s writing this blog at my favorite coffee shop. Tomorrow it might be yoga, making dinner with a friend, or just sitting in my room with incense and listening to music with the windows open. Last week I woke up every morning and danced around my room to this song.

Most of the time it’s ending the day with a good beer or a glass of red wine….or both.

These little things may seem so insignificant they could be considered a waste of time, but I look forward to them. These moments make waking up worthwhile. The drudgery of work, school, time commitments, and exhaustive conversations don’t have to define my day. I appreciate and enjoy those few seconds where I feel content with my choice to fulfill my desires. These inner victories give me a sense of accomplishment and provide the momentum to tackle the bigger dreams. Eventually it will be taking the steps to move to Austin, TX after graduation or finding a job that I look forward to doing every day.

But I still want to take the time to sit outside, breathe, and enjoy the sunshine. I enjoy everyone to do the same because it can change the course of your day.

Tolerance of the Temporary

Posted on January 30, 2013January 30, 2013 by bwucinski in Dating, Inspiration, Personal

As a religion minor, I get the great pleasure this semester to learn about Buddhism. I think what may have piqued my interest is the image of the Buddha as a fat, bald, and happily barefooted icon, which is a complete contrast to the bearded, long-haired, thin, sandaled and somber Jesus Christ I grew up with. Of course I hope it’s not as simple as that though.

Either way I’m really getting into the course and in the process of applying some of the teachings to my life. The main ideal the Buddha encouraged humans to strive for was a balanced life. He was a born as prince, given everything he would every need in life and then was exposed to disease, old age, and death. He then left that life to live as an ascetic (wanderer of religious truths) where he starved himself, practiced intense yoga to achieve meditative trance states, and basically was a baller at life. But these two extremes didn’t bring him any pleasure and he came live The Middle Path, in which he balanced the extremity of his two lives.

Then he came to realize the 4 Noble Truths which go as follows: The disease is suffering, the cause of the disease is desire, the cure is nirvana, and the path to nirvana is the 8 Fold Path which includes “right truths” such as morality, livelihood, and meditation to achieve mindful awareness, and compassion.

Still with me? Great.

Well the cause of all suffering is our desire for permanence. Buddha taught that the inevitability of life is death. Attachment to pleasures or pain causes suffering, because we are attempting to cling to the conditional things, like the security of permanence, but that everything is constantly going to change, regardless of our attachment or desire, time continues onward. We will never be constantly in a state of pleasure or pain, every emotion is temporary. True happiness comes from the ability to get beyond temporary happiness to a sense of freedom, tranquility, and internal serenity.

I’ve been meditating on these concepts with the help of incense, this radio station, and the insatiable desire to understand this concept of balance. So I pondered, contemplated, speculated, and mused over these teachings. When I finished I had a sense of clarity, an insight into how this affects my life.

I’m emotional. I feel the extreme joy in life’s moments, but I’m also insanely affected by the perception of others and the stress that creates in my life. I’ve come to accept the temporary nature of a thought – negative or positive – but I want to choose to feel more moderately and balanced with a tendency toward happiness. I want to allow my feelings to move through my in a fluid motion of mild detachment, ultimately knowing they cannot affect who I am.

I was recently put to the test when I was hit hard by a new crush. I was so excited about the potential in this new guy, his intelligence and wit were awe-inspiring and challenged me to think critically during our conversations. Oh and did I mentioned he had the chiseled body of The David? Which is ironic because we talked about Michelangelo’s famed statue.

But seriously, how do I get this lucky sometimes?

Ahem, back to my point. I was so incredibly excited at the idea of someone who could actually keep up, if not top me, so I let that excitement get the best of me. Against my better judgement I tipped the scale in the favor of an attachment to the idea of perfection that could possibly come from this individual.

Only to get stood up. Yes. Stood the fuck up for our third date.

As you can imagine, infuriating doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. Outraged, vengeful, and murderous are some of the emotions that coursed through my veins along with disappointment and embarrassment. I had allowed my emotions to overwhelm me in the beginning and in the end they once again bested me.

So this morning I woke up. Did some yoga, drank my coffee, and realized that my life is going on, regardless, because that’s the only way that time moves – forward. This miniscule person has no effect on my personal well-being.

I am the captain of my soul, the sole author of my story, and the only owner of my sense of self.

And for that, I am grateful to that lying bastard. (I’m still working on the compassionate nature the Buddha also encourages. Baby steps.)

In a Relationship with Myself

Posted on January 8, 2013 by bwucinski in Dating, Personal

Time for the utterly shocking news that I am once again single. If that is in fact shocking to you, read further for clarity.

I thought I was ready for a new relationship. I truly thought that after 5 blissful months of bar hopping, single girl swag, and celebrating my fabulous self that I was at a place in my life where I would be ready to commit to someone else and accept their commitment to me.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

I was excaping myself through my friends and my short-lived crushes. Numbing myself from actually exploring who I am with internships and shots of tequila after work. I wasn’t growing, I was just adjusting. Right when I was at the peak and beginning to accept myself while learning to embrace who I actually am without someone else molding me, I met The Bartender. Then poof. I was right back where I started. Spending time with him instead of working on myself. My thoughts and concerns centered around him and his feelings instead of my own. My rickety self-esteem collasped on me, enduring insufferable blow after blow. Yet I accepted this because I was happy with him.

What I realize now though is that I was unhappy with myself and I wanted to be with someone who found joy through me because that gave me purpose.

Once I came to this conclusion I had no other choice but to conclude my relationship with The Bartender. I hated having to hurt someone again using the same rhetoric of finding myself and still being unable to reconcile with them that it wasn’t their fault but my own.

But onward and upward. It’s a new year and I finally understand that in order to become who I’m meant to be, I need to be on my own and face myself for the first time, without the hope that another man is going to come and rescue me from…well…me.

Just for the sake of the new year, here’s my resolutions if you’re interested. Hopefully the more people that read them, the more of a reality they will actually become:

1. Treat others how you want to be treated.

2. Don’t let others define your happiness.

3. Start believing that everything will work out and stop stressing about what could happen.

4. Have the courage to trust myself and be confident in myself. Commit to actions that push me forward, instead of holding me back.

5. Be happy and healthy.

And lose weight. But everyone says that.

“I Love You” and Other Idiotic Phrases

Posted on December 3, 2012 by bwucinski in Dating

Remember that time you accidently said “I love you” to your sort-of boyfriend of three months?

Oh, wait you probably don’t because that happened to me. Not you.

We are all creatures of habit, and for several years I was dropped off at school by loving parents who would often wish me well, tell me to make good choices, and often say “Goodbye, love you!” As a teenager I would slam the car door shut as quickly as possible to ensure no one heard the ridiculous affection my parents had for me. In middle school the only love I wanted was from my boyfriend of two weeks. It was social suicide to have parents hug you, let alone tell you they loved you. Obviously, this may be an exaggeration. But back then it sure as hell felt that way.

After years of carpool lanes and “Goodbye, love you!”, I was taught to reciprocate. So when The Bartender dropped me off for my class last week, I instinctively said “Love you!” as I closed the car door.

As the car drove away, this was me:

As soon as I sat down in my class I hurriedly sent a text: FORCE OF HABIT ACCIDENT.

I wasn’t aware that I could feel utterly mortified, embarrassed, disgraced, shamed and humiliated all at the same time. (Except for the morning after I threw up a hostel floor and my roommate had to clean it up and remind me about it the next morning) but it turns out I have that ability even when I haven’t been drinking.

*On another note: more posts to come after this college kid finishes her final exams.

Gay Marriage for All!

Posted on November 8, 2012November 8, 2012 by bwucinski in Personal

I am a huge supporter of gay rights and believe in the equality of all people, regardless of race, gender, or sexual orientation. I was elated after last night’s election and I am looking forward to the future of this country and the development of same-sex marriage as a right to all Americans. Hooray!

“Remember there were white people fighting for black people’s rights in the civil rights movement. There were men fighting for women’s rights in the feminist movement. I would be greatly ashamed if there were no straight people fighting for gay rights in our movement.”

To see more happy photos of couples’ reactions to the laws passed last night: click here!

Love Letters to Europe: Florence

Posted on November 5, 2012November 5, 2012 by bwucinski in Love Letters to Europe, Travel

Ah Firenze. I’ve probably been putting off this post for some time because the memory of Florence is still too much at times. Just thinking back to eating fresh pesto on the steps of San Lorenzo brings tears to my eyes.

And you would think I’m just employing typical emotional rhetoric to illustrate a point, but trust me I’m not exaggerating by any stretch of the imagination. Florence was my home for four months that were constantly full of adventure, beauty, laughter, exploration, fashion, food, and fun. But most of all Firenze was mia amore. There’s not a day that goes by where a part of me wishes I could go back to my apartment at Via Ricasoli 51 and venture out onto the street where hundreds of tourists line up to see Micheangelo’s David, but turn the other way and grab a caffe con panna from Alex, my favorite barista, or go to Un Caffe where I was given a free shot on my first visit and a shot of limoncello on my last.

What I miss about my love is how I felt when I lived there. Free to explore. Uninhibited. Gorgeous, inside and out.

I don’t miss the language barrier. Although for the most part it’s never a problem in Florence because their tourism ensures that most shopkeepers know English enough to haggle their way through a deal on a leather bag in the market. But I miss the people who I had to communicate with hand gestures and my limited amount of Italian. The sense of unknowing when I explored dell’Arno for the first time on my own. Discovering what I felt like were hidden gems, but were probably still tourist traps waiting to happen. The times where I would take a day to myself and go anywhere and every where. My favorite day spent going to the different museums across the city, big and small, well known and obscure. Feeling cultured just for walking across a bridge that wasn’t the Ponte Vecchio. Meeting people and making connections with strangers that will always impact me when I look back over my time there.

Every time I look back at photos, it’s like emotional cutting. Reminiscent Russian roulette. It takes me back to all the little things I don’t have the chance to experience in good ole’ Fort Worth, Texas. Going to the Boboli Gardens for an afternoon. Shopping at a fresh food market where the produce hasn’t been doused heavily in pesticides – and not having to pay extra for that organic guarantee. Apertivo. Writing in my journal or reading a book in sunny Piazza Santo Spirito. Catching the bus in Piazza San Marco to Monica’s lovely apartment with her stolen Wifi. Drinking coffee in between classes at News Cafe. Being called bella on a daily basis by strangers. Walking across the city with Somebody I Used to Know blaring on repeat as my soundtrack to my footsteps. Going out with Stephanie and always waking up the next morning with a hangover and a good story. Throwing up from too much wine (actually this still happens quite often). Going out with the girls and laughing my ass off at literally anything we did. Every weekend a new festival, something new to try and do and see and people to meet.

It makes me heart literally hurt when I think about you Florence. You will always hold a special place within me, even though it was only for a short time, you’ll always be there.

Firenze, there’s something else you committed when you stole my heart, you murdered by American dream. As I’ve detailed extensively throughout this semester, you killed my ambitions that America had so lovingly instilled in me since birth. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen what’s out there. There’s so much more to life than getting a job title you can boast about or living in a big house with nice furniture. When you’ve seen your beauty, you set your sights past things like that. The smell of espresso and the thumping bass of your bars fog my senses when I think about post-grad plans. The throngs of people flooding your cobble stone streets. Staring up at the Duomo every single day. Seeing works of art day in and day out, just on the streets of the city. Gagging when I saw a pair of Nike shorts.

My professors. Noel, Paolo, and even Roberto who hated the way I attempted to speak Italian. Their encouragement, their humor, their knowledge, their understanding of Americans and the issues we face as study abroad students. I grew as a student, despite my lack of focus on my classes. I learned that graphic design may not be for me, but that if I wanted to pursue it – I have what it takes. I delved into how fashion corresponds to a culture and functions as both an indicator and a product of society. I learned so much about Catholicism and was forced to reflect on my upbringing in a church that’s had (and still has) a tremendous impact on the lives of Catholics everywhere, especially Italians.

THERE IS SO MUCH I WANT TO SAY. There’s so much I miss every day here. I wonder how others adjust after studying abroad. If they become the same as they were before, with just an added dash of Italian seasoning to their typical lives? Do they simply have an increased affinity for wine? Or do they still lust after the cultural immersion as I do?

Florence, you will always be missed. The sheer joy that filled my heart each and every day will be missed. Little things can satisfy me here – like my Italian coffee maker, my leather jacket, bottles of Chianti from Kroger – but ultimately my memories will have to suffice.

And that’s possibly the saddest thing I’ve realized this semester.

The Next Level

Posted on October 30, 2012October 30, 2012 by bwucinski in Dating

I maybe should have prefaced that I would be talking a lot about dating on this blog, mainly because it’s the most new and unexplored territory that I encounter in my day to day life. It used to entail engaging with Italian culture and formulating travel plans. Now I’m reduced to analyzing the meaning behind the use of the word ‘babe. Go figure.

So as things have forged on with The Bartender, I’m entering into new territory once again. The shift from dating to a relationship. It’s been a solid two months since we began dating and we’re spending loads of time together every day. At certain points he’s used the word ‘babe’ in regards to me. The first time he said it was in the middle of the night when I was tossing and turning, with sleep hours away. I thought I heard it wrong. He must have said “What’s wrong Dave?” reverting back to that one time he went through a curious phase in college.

I’m joking of course. He doesn’t have any homosexual tendencies…that I know of.

Then he used in again. So casually. Babe. I guess I missed the memo that we are at the point of pet names. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing wrong with the term itself. I’m just confused about what it means, besides the name of a pig or a hot girl on the beach.

In a time where your relationship status is plastered on your Facebook for everyone to see and where DTR conversations are rampant (DTR: Defining The Relationship) what actually constitutes the next level of dating?

When I was 15 and started dating my ex-boyfriend, we said “I love you” after 2 weeks. At the time, it was just what you said to make the end of phone calls less awkward than ‘bye’. It only came after time that I found what it truly meant. And I firmly believe that every love is different, every relationship brings a new dynamic, a new power struggle, a new set of problems, and new joys.

So what do I do at this point? The Bartender has commitment issues (surprise surprise) so he’s not ready for the official label yet. Honestly, neither am I. I was a ‘girlfriend’ for so long and I had all the duties that came with the title. So what does being in a relationship really mean outside of the digital realm? From what I’ve gathered it means that you care about the person, more than just a regular hook-up and dinners. You find yourself wanting to spend time with them over other people. You want to cook for them. You’re definitely not seeing anybody else or actively looking for better options. You’re happy. You’re still struggling to figure out the other person. Every day, you let a little more of your guard down and let them see another side of you. Much like everything else in my life right now, it’s terrifying.

One vs The One

Posted on October 14, 2012 by bwucinski in Dating

Since March, I’ve been conquering men in bars, both locally and internationally. While it was a fruitful summer with a multitude of good stories to tell for years to come, I had promised myself I would slow it down by the time fall and school rolled around.

And then I met someone (see Disasters in Dating). Someone I didn’t sleep with at first. Someone I like to actually hang out with because he doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out from boredom. Oh and he’s cute. From henceforth, in all future forays with this boy, he shall be referred to as The Bartender.

I over-analyze everything. I mean everything. So while I was going through my one night stand phase, I analyzed everything in the days following a hook-up. Now that I’m dating someone, I still analyze everything and constantly wonder how I’m faring in the dating world. So far I can’t decide which option comes with more stress.

One Night Stands

One night of sweaty, somewhat intoxicated sex. The shared agreement to limiting the amount of knowledge about the other person. Due to that agreement, talking is usually limited to banal topics that you won’t really care about the other person knowing (ie: things that you would find on my Facebook if you creeped hard enough). The walk of shame in the morning. That weird moment where ya’ll can’t decide whether or not to spoon. The feeling of both achievement (if you bang a 10) and disappointment in your self-worth. The look that tells each other it’s on. Free drinks. The questions following the one nighter: Will he call me? Why wasn’t I worth waiting for? Why am I already horny again? What was his last name? Am I bad in bed? The aftermath includes wondering how many lies he told you to get into your pants, wishing you worked out more so those flabby bits weren’t as…well…flabby, and usually regret. Usually.

Dating

A tepid toe into the waters of getting to know each other. Dates where the conversation is foreplay, instead of a slap on the ass. Personality becomes a factor. A big one at that. Attraction can only go so far without an actual connection. Sex is steady, but isn’t dull. The feeling of constantly wanting to impress someone with your charm, wit, and appearance. The fear that they will find something out about you and immediately dump yo’ crazy ass. Seeing that look in their eye that lets you know they like you. Free drinks and free meals. The questions that follow: Will he call me? What do they think of me? Am I interesting enough to capture their attention? Am I the only one they are seeing? Do I really need to shave my legs again? The aftermath includes wondering how long you have to lie about not eating carbs, wishing you could stay and cuddle for hours (especially with the recent appearance of fall weather in Texas), and the knowledge that the more time you spend with that person is directly proportional to how much it’s going to hurt when you stop seeing each other.

Which is the lesser of two evils? I’m going to go with the one where spooning is non-optional…for now anyways.

PG-21 Parental Guidance Still Suggested

Posted on October 10, 2012October 10, 2012 by bwucinski in Personal, Travel

I’ve been blessed to have parents who are supportive of my crazy half-baked dreams. While they encourage me to do things that will better myself and my life, they also help to elevate my financial consciousness. They would prefer I choose a career in which I won’t be calling them asking for help paying my phone bill before it promptly shuts off mid-call and they are doomed never to hear from their broke-ass daughter again.

My dad may not be the easiest person to eat with (he has preferred seats, meals, wines, etc) or live with (his way or the highway) or talk to (if you attempt to talk to him while the Packers are on he’s like a disgruntled caveman) but he listens and knows when and what I need to hear. My dad went to college to get an an education in Physical Education with goals of being a P.E. teacher. After a few years, he realized this perhaps wouldn’t be the most lucrative choice. He then got his CPA license and eventually his CFP and now owns his own business.

rosebowl — My dad and I at the TCU vs Wisconsin Rosebowl

My dad helps me to understand that there’s time to figure everything out. He’s living proof that things change and we end up doing what we are supposed to be doing. He’s 50-something and he still parties like he’s 28 (he goes to concerts at the House of Blues every month) and acts like a 13-year-old boy (he bought himself a remote-controlled boat for our pool this summer) and he wakes up doing what he loves every day. And up until a year ago, he did it with a mullet.

My mother is insane. She’s loud and she’s opinionated. She hates silence and therefore constantly asks questions. She’s obsessed with people and knowing about their lives. She strikes up conversations with people at the table/barstool next to her on a weekly basis. And she’s basically me, or who I’ll eventually become after one too many ~~glasses~~ bottles of wine.

But she also gives me some of the greatest advice. This weekend I explained to my parents how impressed I am with the longevity of their marriage in the face of over-surmounting divorce rates. Their advice?

“Marriage is something you work at every day.”
“Divorce is just trading one set of problems for another set with someone else.”
And of course, “I couldn’t be married to your father if alcohol wasn’t a foundation in our relationship.”

The anecdote my mother told me about travel this weekend truly inspired me. She spent a year in Sweden working as an intern after college. I’ll admit she doesn’t really talk about much and I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because she had just as wild of a time in Europe as I did. I was reminiscing about my semester abroad with her late Sunday night over a bottle of Chianti. I was describing for her some of the incredible people I had the chance to meet while traveling and how lucky I felt to have met them.

Then she said this to me: “You know, I’ve tried to find the people I met over there on Facebook now and I haven’t been able to. I would love to get in contact with them again and see what they are doing. I know their first names but can’t remember their last names anymore. But I can distinctly remember their faces. It’s been over 30 years and I haven’t forgotten what they look like. I don’t think I ever will.”

I can tell my mother something and she’ll forget it within 15 minutes. (“Where are you going tonight? Oh that’s right.”) but she remembers Swedish friends she made when she was in her twenties. That’s the impact of travel and the friendships you form when you’re there. I loved when new cities became my home and the strangers I met became my friends, even it was only for a couple days.

She reminded me once again why it’s so crucial for me to go back again. I’m not done meeting people. I’m not done learning about different places and cultures. I’m not done exploring and making memories and getting lost and then finding myself once more.

I’m lucky I have parents who remember what it was like to be young, because they’re still young at heart.