I have been putting off updating my site for so long. Why? I don't know. I guess I don't have much to say lately. Not that that's entirely bad. You see, it's just that my life is okay, and everything is going well, and there is no crisis brewing to preoccupy myself with. Life is, on the whole, good. And when life is good, my mind automatically goes into "find a flaw" mode. What is it about me that has such a hard time being ok with stability? I've always had tumultuous relationships with men. Horrid, heart breaking affairs that made me feel alive by making me wish I was dead. Why do I have such a problem with comfort? I wear comfortable clothes, I relish comfort foods like mashed potatoes and stew, I even buy comfy knit cotton sheets for my Beautyrest mattress. So why do I get so wigged out when my life falls into the reassuring grove of comfort?

I recently found a pamphlet I must have picked up at the counselling center at my college. It's titled, "When Your Happily Ever After Isn't". At a loss for something to read on the train one day, I packed it along in my bag. The author really has some interesting things to say about people's attitudes about comfort and happiness. Surprisingly, the two are not synonymous. Happiness, this leaflet stated, is a high. It's has the same affects as a drug. Say, you're in a new relationship, and everything is shiny and excitingly fresh. You're head is in the clouds! You're new mate can do no wrong! Everything is great! And you are so happy! Ah! But soon something begins to happen. You get used to your new lover. You notice things about him that are sort of not attractive. Perhaps you find his habits downright annoying. But you really like this guy. Maybe you even love him. So you decide to over look the flaws, Lord knows you've got a few yourself. So you mature into a comfy relationship. Everything is fine. But there is something missing. And then you realize the thing that's missing is the high. That edgy feeling you get at the beginning, when you don't really know where you stand and every thing you do feels like the first time. That high is gone, and you can't ever get it back, at least not with the same person. It's at this point where people will intentionally mess things up in order to create a high, or break up in search of a new person to have a high with. If you pay attention, you will realize that this dynamic might sound familiar. You also might notice that it applies to more that just love relationships. People have been raised to expect a certain amount of happiness. And who of us don't feel a bit gyped when we don't think we're getting our fair share. We don't equate happiness with comfort. Comfort is boring. Comfort is warm banana custard. Comfort is mushy potato chowder. Comfort is not sex with a new guy for the first time.

I'm trying to rewire my thinking about comfort these days. Instead of focusing on the blandness of comfort I'm luxuriating in it. I want to roll myself up in a cocoon of soft, downy comfort and be one with the universe. After all, I'd much rather eat a bowl of my grandma's pasta than some hot, spicy exotic dish at a posh Indian restaurant. Ah! Comfort rocks.