In the simplest terms, a big smile gets a different reaction than a hard kick in the shins. And if it doesn’t, or if you don’t want it to, that’s a topic for a different blog.
I’ve heard a broader idea: We put out energy waves, vibrations that seek and attract their like. So the universe senses the sad, successful, silly, happy, angry frequencies in people and sends a sympathetic vibe boomerang right back. Happiness grows more happiness and anger delivers more anger. Our frequencies must tune depending on the day, our outlook or mood, so we put a variety of vibrations out to The Universe.
In the past few weeks, I must have been vibrating like it’s 1999 because people from my past have reached out to say “hello”.
For all the reach was across time. Two I barely know and two are Julies who don’t know each other but both moved from New York to England.
First, on my birthday (see Corkbuzz) a text message popped into my phone from a number I didn’t recognize. I organize with a “pile” system, not a file system and I haven’t updated my contacts since 2002. I’ve also done my share of blind dating so mystery messages are normal for me.
In this case, it was a birthday wish from a friend of a guy I dated ten years ago. He’s getting divorced (the texter, not the guy I dated) and his wedding anniversary is on my birthday. Other than the divorce, he’s doing well and as I remember he’s a nice guy.
But I’m not going to think too much about my vibe that boomeranged his thoughts back to me at this particular moment in our lives.
Next I heard from a guy who wants to see me again after we had, according to him, two great dates in 2007. His memory, if not his timing, is sharp.
The next reach out was from my friend Julie. She paged through my blog from her new home in England and commented that reading margagogo made her miss NYC. Her comment made me miss her even more (and not just because she read my blog and now my stats show eight page views from the UK).
Now enter the next Julie, or really the first Julie because she was my college roommate. Julie from college moved to England a zillion years ago. I’m not sure when we spoke last and it doesn’t matter. Our friendship is the kind that holds up to time and gaps and when I see her, we’ll talk a ton and laugh until our cheeks cramp and probably feel like we’re in college again except our hair won’t be as high and we won’t be drinking warm keg beer in the dorm parking lot.
We will be deciding on a restaurant because she’s coming to New York on Monday!
I’m thrilled. I’m so excited. I can’t wait!
We haven’t made our plans yet but I know for sure where we won’t be going and it breaks my heart to say it: We won’t be going to Mercadito. Not Mercadito Grove or B or Mercadito anywhere.
Mercadito used to be awesome. Everything about it from the size of the restaurants (poquito) to the amazing tacos to the mind blowing margs made me love Mercadito. I’d have been happy to go every day but to avoid appearing taco-obsessed, didn’t suggest Mercadito for every dinner plan. Instead, I asked The Universe to do my work for me by sending Mercadito vibes out into the ether. The Universe came through 40% of the time.
But when I went the other night with a member of the impartial panel of judges, we were disappointed. So disappointed that we don’t think we can go back. (I wonder if there are other former fans out there because we arrived at prime NYC dinner time and there were empty tables – something unheard of in better days.)
The guac was grey and the portion poquito. The shrimp tacos, which used to be so good that we’d order more and then get the steak and the fish and share and eat and wish we could eat more, were all sauce (a buttery, zing-less sauce) and very little shrimp. And the drinks, oh dear, I’m getting depressed just thinking about them.
So college roommate Julie and I will find another spot and the vibe I’m putting out to The Universe now is one of profound restaurant loss. I hope that Mercadito picks up on it and recaptures their magic. If they do, I’ll surely feel it and be back!