Saturday, June 5, 2010

Peachy Keen

"There are two types of people,"

My ears perked as one of my bosses (a Swiss man who wears suspenders under his impeccably pressed suits) addressed our lunch table. I love when people speak in absolutes, and as a yogi who's chummy with the Dalia Lama (literally) this boss usually offers worthwhile bits of wisdom.

"You're either a walnut or a peach," he proclaimed.

According to the boss man, if you're hard like a walnut on the outside (guarded, inexpressive, cautious) once broken into you're a sweet little nugget. If you're a mushy peach at the surface (emotional, open, sensitive, tender) deep down there's a tough core.

Neither one is good or bad, he explained. Just different, and we're all absolutely one or the other.

"Vanessa, you're definitely a peach," he burst my thought bubble before it floated overhead. The rest of the table (all men) nodded their heads in agreement.

Alright, I'll take peach. I'm self-aware enough to recognize that I'm generous with my emotions. I don't mind being vulnerable. I'm anxious when I don't express myself. I'm addicted to affection (If you sit or stand by me I will hold your hand.) All peachy. But, what's this deep, dark, impenetrable core?

Sometimes I feel more like a kiwi: mushy through and through, too sensitive for my own good. According to my zen boss, however, my tough core absolutely exists. I'm comforted by his insistence. Lately I've been trying, rather unsuccessfully, to act a little harder. Because apparently what every single lady in the Big Apple needs is a ninja turtle shell.

The shell protects against New York City men who are a different breed all together, or so I've been told. Everyone has their theory.

"Guys in this city are drunk on options," a girlfriend commented recently. The warning: men here will wine and dine you but few will commit. Why should they? There's a new single, attractive, semi-interesting girl at the corner of every bar.

It makes sense. Just about all of my 25-year-old friends back in Florida are married, engaged or openly talking about engagement. In New York, single is the norm, committed relationship is the exception, marriage talk before 30- well that's just madness.

Most days I like it that way. I'm certainly not ready to settle down. But every once in a while I wonder if I'm walnut enough to handle dating New York City men. There's only one way to find out.


  1. Whatever happens, I'm glad you're a fantastic writer. I once thought of writing a book. I have a few chapters. Yours would be far more interesting than my final years in Gainesville!

  2. Love this post, my peach! My battery died midway through it and I absolutely flipped.

  3. love it! not sure if I am a peach or walnut...

  4. Vanessa, LOVE your blog! Just started reading today and I might be your newest addict! So glad to see you're happy and doing well! Love, Parker

  5. thanks guys!! your comments make me smile so big.