Do I Get A Reward For Two In One Day?

So I spent most of my free time today working on jewelry designs, and as has become my habit of late, I was listening to my iPod on "shuffle". This is always entertaining when it goes on for hours due to several reasons:

1. There are no songs on my iPod that I didn't put there myself, and yet I always wind up with multiple songs that leave me wondering "Who is THAT?" I blame iTunes and their free weekly downloads.

2. There are no songs on my iPod that I didn't put there myself, and yet I always wind up with multiple songs that I HATE, have no idea why they are on my computer, swear I'm going to remove them immediately and then promptly forget about until the next time I'm making jewelry.

3. Musical whiplash is a frequent happening as going from the Andrew Sisters to The Offspring to the score of Schindler's List is not unlikely.

4. I rediscover songs that I've forgotten that I love (I know, I know....can you really forget something if you love it? That's a post for another day when I'm feeling a bit deeper....)

What brings us together today, however, is my desire to share with you some songs that I think you should give a listen to-- at least once. I know I can't make you love them as much as I do....afterall, songs are like books: one person's revelation is another person's annoyance. But you should at least give them a try.

So without further ado, I present February's List Of Songs I Love

(wait, I lied-- I do have one more ado: I don't think these songs have anything terribly objectionable...but I make no promises. It's music, people, No Getting Offended!) :-)

1. Shadow Boxer (Fiona Apple)
*I know some of you are rolling your eyes right now....but the woman's got some great beats and even better lyrics. Yes, she is odd in concert, this is true. But still. "Once my lover, now my friend. What a cunning way to condescend." I love that line. I really, really do.

2. Airport Song (Guster)
*I've had an irrational love of this song for nearly 3 years now. So sinister and so dang catchy! "You'll Be Selling Books At The Airport"!

3. Bei Mir Bist Du Schön (The Andrews Sisters)
*I grew up in the 80s, so it doesn't quite make sense that these ladies take me back to my childhood, but they do. And I defy you to listen to this song and not be singing along by the second verse.

4. On Your Porch (The Format)
*I will never, ever get sick of listening to this song. I love it. A great song about family. "And if you fail, well then you fail...but not to us"

5. Arms of a Woman (Amos Lee)
*Another one that is impossible not to sing with feeling, despite the fact that I'm not personaly looking to be at ease in the arms of a woman.....

6. I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You (Colin Hay)
*Erin loves this song. I'm just copying her.

7. Say Hello, Wave Goodbye (David Gray)
*"You and I had to be the standing joke of the year"

8. Sweet Dreams (Eurythmics)
*Until this afternoon, I forgot how much this song entertains me

9. Ada Plays (Gabriel Yared- Cold Mountain Score)
*Just a gorgeous piece of music...makes me wish I'd never quit piano because I was "so busy" as a 3rd grader.

10. Hide and Seek (Imogen Heap)
*Weird in a totally wonderful way.

It Seemed Fitting

This quote from Helen Keller was used in the lesson this morning, and it was so fitting given the last post, I had to add it:

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature.... Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."

Helen Keller, The Open Door (1957)


I don't know if I agree or not, but I thought it was interesting.

The Intoxication of Security

I've been thinking a lot this week about the comfort zones we create for ourselves and the lengths we go to to preserve them. We can go days, weeks, or even years without even being aware of the corners we back ourselves into....and then all it takes is one tiny thing that sits just out of reach of that zone....one tiny thing that catches your eye for inexplicable reasons (or perfectly logical ones) and suddenly all you can see are the walls that you built ever so carefully because they are what is keeping you from reaching that one tiny thing.

A safe life may be long, but it is rather dull.

Another Reason Apple Rocks

Somehow my iPod lives.

Apparently, he just needed a little time overnight to gather his wits about him. He has now been christened Amerigo because of his soggy journey.

Proof That TODAY Was Out To Get Me In Teeny Tiny Ways From The Start

1. Something told me this morning not to get out of bed TODAY. I had to argue with that something for quite some time before I DID get out bed. Something, I owe you an apology. You were right.

2. I had to go to the dentist

3. I had to wait an extra half hour at the dentist because the man in front of me was rear-ended on his way (I know what you are thinking. Surely THAT is the man who had a bad day, not you. My response to that is that I said "teeny tiny" ways....OK?!)

4. A thousand little and big things went wrong at work that I would gladly go into into great detail about, except that it's still TODAY for another few hours and with the way that TODAY is going, someone from work would see it and email it to everyone else I work with.

5. And last but certainly not least....I was leaving the house to go work out tonight (since I didn't go do it this morning as planned since I was arguing with "something"), and I was opening the door to the garage when I heard my load of laundry finish. I almost kept going, but I thought "No. I'll be productive and move them to the washer and get the next load started". (This may not seem important....but just be patient). So, I start the next load and go to the gym. Upon arriving at the gym, I realize that my new iPod Shuffle is not in my gym bag as usual. I had it the night before, but now it's gone. I look at lost and found with no luck.....do my workout (which I wind up cutting shorter than usual since I'm too annoyed about where my iPod could be to concentrate). I get home only to discover that yes.... I had just WASHED my new iPod. It's very clean now, and very dead. According to various websites I've read now, this isn't necessarily a fatal thing. But everyone agrees that the most important thing is to NOT PLUG IT IN RIGHT AWAY. I bet you can't guess what the first thing I did was, can you?


Looking over this list, you might conclude that I am being massively whiney about a day that wasn't all that bad in actuality. But you know what? Attitude is everything-- and I have a terrible one today. So there you go.

A Rambling Question With No Real Answers

I've been thinking lately about how different people are when it comes to letting others into their lives. How do we pick the people we let in? There's no automatic default when it comes to something like that-- even family is ultimately subject to whatever "test" we've come up with to determine whom we trust with our thoughts, time, words, worries..... the list goes on and on. And just because you love someone doesn't mean you let them in. I have some friends who view their parents as good friends...and others who view them as the people who happened to raise them but could never possibly understand them. Some people can't imagine life without their siblngs and others see them as a stranger they happen to share DNA with.

So why do we let certain people in while keeping others at bay? Is it an instinctual thing? Is it a checklist we go through without even realizing it? I've been trying to understand why I trust certain people immediately while others have to earn it....and why even after some people prove over and over that they DON'T deserve it, I still have the impulse to extend it anyway. Or maybe my real question is why do I WANT to trust some people even when they've proven I shouldn't? Part of me thinks that it is a refusal to accept what I don't want to be true. We rationalize behavior we can't understand to try and turn it into something relatable.....maybe so that we don't have to believe that we misplaced our trust in the first place. Mistakes are hard enough to accept, let alone if the mistake is a person.

A History of Intimidation

Laurie's comment on the last post made me laugh and then think "That's a post title if ever I heard one!".

So the question is- do I have a history of intimidating people? The short answer is, I don't know. But a short answer does not a good post make. So how about the long one?

For as long as I can remember, I've been told that I initimidate people, but I've never been quite clear why. I'm also not exactly sure if it's true. I think more often than not, the comment has come from the people who love me trying to explain away the people who don't--- so you see why the source of information might be problematic.

So what are some possible instances of intimidation?

*A girl at church camp who apparently hated me for years because she thought I hated her. She was assigned to be my cabin-mate secret sister for the day and decided to write me a note talking about how much she had hated me for years and talked about me behind my back. She went on to discuss how much she knew I hated her and obviously talked about her behind her back as well. She then declared that she was "willing to bury the hatchet, and not in your head". The best part? Before that day, I had no idea who that girl was that had apparently spent years thinking we were in the midst of a mega grudge.

*A girl in college who hadn't liked me for years who finally admitted that when she met me I seemed "popular and unapproachable". The sad part? I didn't tell her this, but I found it rather amusing and slightly flattering. I know. It was terribly, terribly wrong of me. But it was just such a novelty to be considered popular!

Ultimately, I don't know that intimidation was so much the problem in either of those instances as the girls just really didn't LIKE me. Is that the same thing? It seems like if I believe that these things happen because I'm "intimidating" it's just another way of saying that people have a problem with me because I'm just SO AWESOME. And that thought just makes me laugh....not to mention that it seems like a major cop-out.

As for the specific case in question......do I intimidate the eye-avoider? I don't think so. It's been suggested by a coworker that she might have a problem with my weight loss-- but again, that seems like a stupid reason to stop acknowledging the existence of someone.

The Eye Avoiders

There's a woman at work that I'm convinced doesn't like me. We'll call her "Tina". For the past two weeks, I've been trying everything I can (short of actually, you know, talking to her) to get "Tina" to look at me, to smile, to acknowledge my presense in some way as we pass each other in the hallway. This happens at least three times a day, if not more. Every time I come within a 4 foor radius, though, her head automatically ducks to the floor as if I'm Medusa and can turn her to stone if she looks too closely.

Now I know what your thinking: Maybe she's just shy. But you know what? That is NOT IT. I see her talking to other people all the time. I checked with my office mate today, and she said that "Tina" is always super nice and friendly. FRIENDLY! So what have I done? I can't figure it out.

The other strange factor is this: she's been at this job for at least as long as I have. And I don't know what made me all of a sudden notice her ability to ignore me. Has she been doing this for four years, and I just never noticed? And if so-- why did I suddenly notice now? And why do I care? I don't find this person particularly interesting. I don't know that I'm missing much from a lack of "hello" from her since I get it from 50 other people I don't know everyday. Plus, I'd much rather glide through the halls unnoticed than prance down the corridor holding court like some people do. So why her? I don't know.

It's just weird. There are a lot of people who would probably be justified in not liking me at work for some very good reasons. "Tina", however, is NOT one of them. We work at a friendly place, dang it, and she is NOT being friendly. She's being shifty and I want to know why.

And so I will continue my passive aggressive eye contact game in the hopes that one day I will make her LOOK AT ME. Of course, now I don't know if I want to smile once she does.

All Cooped Up

We're in the midst of the "great ice storm of 2007" here, and while it's not quite the armageddon situation the weather men seemed prepared for, I have been cooped up in the house for most of the last two days. I woke up this morning with the grand plan of cleaning out my room in a major way. However, this great "event" quickly digressed into me spending the afternoon doing two things:

1. Throwing away yarn I will never, ever get around to making into anything

and

2. Discovering yet more scraps of paper with scribbles on them. I know I've mentioned my strange need to cover random pieces of paper with random thoughts, half-told stories (oh, who am I kidding? I've never gotten half way through one of those stories), and mutterings that I can't bring myself to dignify with the word "poetry" (which sounds ever so grand). I suppose it speaks of a terrible self-absorption that I can spend an afternoon getting lost in reading my own scribbles, but it always fascinates and amuses me to read them. Half of the time, I don't remember what spurred the words in the first place. I say all of this as a warning because I have two "scribbles" I'm going to share....

My main reason for doing this is that I suspect Laurie might enjoy reading them (she likes to humor my pretentions at "writing"...and I owe her a thank you for the book she sent me.....I have begun reading by the way, and am once again swept away by envy at another person's ability with words).



********

I used to believe that there comes a point in every life when a decision gets made that forever changes who you are. But I've since realized that point comes every day. Like it or not, you expose yourself time after time with the people you ignore, the choices you refuse to make, and the words you don't say.

********




*******

If we're only ever around people that make us happy, then we can never know a big part of ourselves. If no one ever asked me a stupid question, would I have ever discovered the joys of sarcasm? If no one ever told me a lie, would I have learned to watch people's expressions? If no one ever tried to outsmart me, would I have ever learned to play the airhead?

Without dumb people with their dumb questions, without mean people with their mean words, without selfish people and their thoughtless lives, I would have fewer forehead wrinkles from raising my eyebrows, I would have a lot less to complain about, I would have fewer people to blame my own mistakes on, I would have no sense of humor, no sense of self, and no real worries. My work would take less time, I'd be a lot more bored, and I'd have crows feet from smiling all of the time in between my yawns. Life would be simple. Life would be dull. And I'd have no one to make me feel nice, smart, caring, and generally superior in comparison.

Most importantly, I never would have learned to roll my eyes, and I think we can all agree that would make me unrecognizable.

*********

As Seen On Laurie's Blog

You Are An INFP

The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

What's Your Personality Type?

An English Major's Confession

I alluded to this in an earlier post, but I haven't been reading much lately. It's a very strange thing to admit because reading has always been such a constant in my life. I've really begun to realize lately, though, that it's not just a matter of it being something I've always enjoyed doing. In a strange way, it really is a vital part of how I perceive myself and how the people who know me perceive me. Sarah loves to read. This is a fundamental in getting to know me.

But lately, I've started to wonder, how can someone who reads as little as I do these days count themselves as a book lover? Is reading the only thing that makes you one? I hope not, because that would mean that for the past year or so I've been a great big faker.

But you know, I don't just love books because of what they say. I love how they look-- be it old ones or new ones. I love how they smell (most of them, at any rate). I love the quiet atmosphere of book stores and all of the possibility of ideas that you know is just sitting there on the shelf. I love the weight of a leather bound book in my hand. I love the way you can guess things about people by the books on their coffee table or bookshelf (including whether or not the books were put out to "impress"). I love that a person's interest in books gives you an instant insight into their personality. I love what people accidentally reveal about themselves through the books they read at the airport. I love giving a book I really love to someone else and then getting nervous as if I've handed them my child until I know whether or not they will love it like I do. I love imagining where really old books used to live.

I love books. Now I just need to find one to read.

3 Decades

Last time I was at my parent's house, I grabbed all four of my high school yearbooks out of my closet and brought them home with me. Reading them (or the comments within them) was both hilarious and depressing. Hilarious because of the truly random and odd things I chose to stick in the yearbooks for safe keeping. Depressing because of how difficult it is to relate to the person that these books belonged to.

If you were to ask me, I would have told you that I feel like I know who I was when I was 16. My memories seem real and comfortable. But the problem with memories is that they age with you as you grow older and become no more reliable than......(Ok, I've literally been sitting here staring at my screen for 5 minutes now trying to think of something really unreliable to use there and nothing is coming to mind. I'm drawing a complete blank....) well, something no more reliable than something REALLY unreliable.

Anyhoo.

Looking at the yearbooks, I'm hit with fairly solid proof that people and things weren't exactly as I recall them now. The nuances that the years have stripped away return. Not completely, of course....too many years have gone by for that. But it's more about the shadow of them, I guess. Just enough to remind me that there was so much more there than I've remembered.

And it makes me wonder if 10 years from now I'll be a stranger to myself once again. If I'll look back on these scribbles and have to work to remember how that girl felt...how she dealt with the world......how she remembers the world.

And A Happy New Year To All

I was told that someone was sick of looking at my previous entry and that I needed to get someone new on here. Good thing my best friend's not a nag or anything!

I'll tell you what I told her-- it's not that I haven't been writing lately, because I actually have been writing more in the last few weeks than in all of the previous 6 months. But as usual, I'm writing as a way to process things (this will come to a surprise to exactly none of the 6 people who read this blog!)....and I can't process things very well when I know I'm just making people curoius about WHAT I'm thinking about. Sometimes I'm happy to share and sometimes I'm not.

I wish I could write blog entries like Laurie's. They are always so well written and thought provoking......that girl's mind is ALWAYS going and I love it. (Should I have said "woman" there? Katie is sure to tell me......at least I didn't say "chick"!). Anyway, I'm not going to share the topic of the biggest chunk of thoughts in my head the last week or so, but just so that the aforementioned someone doesn't have to look at "Thoughts at the end of Week 1" anymore..... (I'm teasing. I love that you still check. Really. It's very optimistic of you!).....here are a few of my thoughts over the past week:

*I remember virtually nothing about Gerald Ford. I remember learning virtually nothing about Gerald Ford in all of my years of public and private education. Yet I still found myself oddly touched by all of the flags at half mast. This leads me to believe it's the actual symbol I'm touched by as opposed to the person it honors. Funny how we can be uneffected by something in our heads, but we still feel that instinctual tightening of the chest anyway.

* Celebrity really is a tragic thing 99% of the time.

*You know a friendship is dead when you want to ask a person "What are you DOING?" but either can't or won't.

*Infant baptism is a very strange concept. Why would anyone think they could make that decision on behalf of someone else?

*I don't read enough anymore.

*In general, humanity is completely obsessed with how awesome we think we are. Every countdown VH1 has ever created is a perfect example of this.

*I know what I said above-- but my new iPod Shuffle really is awesome. (And I don't know when I went back to 1993 and started using the word "awesome" again.)

*I'm kind of sad to see 2006 go. As far as a time of life changes go-- it was a big one.

Thoughts At Then End of Week One

As of tomorrow I will have been gone for one week. Tonight we are in Shenzhen (I think-- I've been having some "what day of the week is it?" and "what town am I in?" orientation problems)....so in honor of my one week anniversary with China, I offer you....

Thoughts and Observations, Part One

1. I like China much MUCH better the second time around but I don't know if it has anything to do with the actual country. I'm having a great time but I can't decide if it because of the novelty of the "first class"ness of the trip or not. Surely that has something to do with it....but it is interesting how much your mind-set can change your experience in a country. That being said, I'd hate to think that I'm a snob or that I can be bought, but apparently that's not true. I can be bought-- for the price of one first class ticket and a 5 star hotel. :-)

2. I have a completely awesome job. If this is what being a grown up is about, I can totally get behind that. (good thing I decided that before I turned 30, huh?)

3. Technology and electronics make me happy. I can call people from the Great Wall even if they choose not to answer. I can IM friends and get exciting news in real time. I can get emails that tell me of hilarious dreams someone may or may not have had. I can listen to Coldplay in the back of a taxi. I can download the latest episode of Prison Break and not have to wait until I get home! I can send pictures and stupid videos home while still gone. These are all good things (with the possible exception of the videos).

4. They have 6 story bead malls in China. Really.

5. 8 years later and I still don't like being stared at.

6. I have a much easier time clearing Chinese airport security than Jini does. And I proved this 5 times this week so far.

7. They don't have traffic laws in China. I think they have traffic suggestions....but even the police don't seem too interested in those.

8. There are a lot of middle aged white men hanging out in hotels across this nation. I can't imagine what they are all doing, but I'm sure it's important.

9. I really need to learn to use chopsticks.

10. I don't enjoy pickled jellyfish, but bamboo's not bad. River crab is too much work.....even when a nice Chinese man rips it apart and tears off the legs so I don't have to do it for a second time. Tearing the head off of shrimp is gross. Peanuts as a side dish is something I can get behind. Picking a living, swimming, kind of cute fish out of a tank to eat only to see it's steamed eyes on it's steamed body staring back at you from your table 20 minutes later is kind of depressing.

Walt Disney Wasn't Kidding

It is truly a freakishly small world sometimes.

Deconstructing Yourself

I've been wondering lately how much of a virtue it is to be a direct person. It's something that I value in people, and it's something that I value in myself. But the more I look at the relationships around me, it doesn't always seem that being direct is what people have come to expect or want-- even when it comes to dealing with their own life.

I read a quote from an actor yesterday that's been banging around in my head all day today. He said that while growing up he had spent so much time doing what was expected of him that he forgot to figure out what he expected of himself....and he then had to spend his 20s dismantling the "budding bureaucrat" that he had become. I think that rang so true with me because it seems like many children who grow up in households of high expectations (whether they be religious, moral, social, educational...) lose themselves into a life that is not of their own choosing. Obviously the answer is not to have low expectations of your children. If modern American society has taught us nothing else, it's proven that children need parents more than good friends who happen to have given them life. But somewhere along the way, we forget that just because we helped create a life-- that life does not become a command performance. (And sometimes the loudest commands are never spoken.)

So what does this have to do with my pondering about the virtue of being direct? Nothing. Nothing and everything.

(and the irony of not spelling it out has not escaped my attention)

Random Thought #3

How many people are willing to live with the certainty of regret because they are so much more afraid of the unknown?

Random (cliche) Thoughts: Volume 2

We make so many little decisions in our lives that seem unimportant....so inconsequential. But the thing about all of those little decisions is that you never know which little decision is going multiply until it infiltrates every corner of your life.

Every choice is a step leading you somewhere. The question is: Where do you want to go??

Katie's "sick of the nap post"

I was told to just start posting random thoughts. So here you go

Random Thought #1:

I think some people fall in love with the idea of love as an escape. If someone else loves them and wants to learn to get to know them, it saves them the trouble of having to get to know themselves.

Sunday Afternoon Naps

(This is a post written a few weeks ago that I never got around to posting. And Katie wants a post....so a post she will get)


I am not a nap taker.

The story goes that when I was little, and I would get sleepy, I would just put myself down for a nap. I have no idea if that is true or not, but as it is-- I no longer do that. I will waste time a million different ways during the day, but I don't like to sleep. In some ways-- it sort of feels like rebooting my computer in the middle of the day-- it takes me awhile to get back in the gear of things.

I have no idea why I am bothering to share any of this except for the fact that I just woke up from a nap. I fell asleep on the couch right after finishing a hilarious book about being a Christian, being single, travelling, and figuring out your life. And so my brain has been rebooted in the middle of the day with those things on my mind. And that's a dangerous combo.

As the previous post would suggest, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the things we tell ourselves, the things we tell other people, and the "truth"-- and how a lot of times there is a fair bit of gray area between all of those things. Is a lie any better when the only one you've told it to is yourself?

It occurred to me today that you can tell someone many true things without ever telling them the truth.

A Mid Week Thought

One of the most annoying things that married people say is that you will find love when you stop looking for it. And yet, every single time I have ever been hit on (for lack of a better phrase) it has happened at a time when men and/or my own attractiveness was the absolute last thing on my mind.

There's probably a lesson to be learned there, but I mostly just find it irritating. When I'm caught off guard, I do one of two things:

1. I say nothing but look slightly cross.

2. I say stupid things. Honest things..... but stupid things.

The former is just awkward. The latter is entertaining for those that know me well, but just confusing for anyone else.

(And if the situation is really extreme....the two get combined. I say stupid, honest things and look mad about it. And you wondered why I make a bad first impression.....)

Could YOU say no to this face?

I Hate To Quote Garth Brooks

I had a short but interesting conversation the other day with two friends while we were in a mall food court, of all places. The gist of it was that God has really saved us from ourselves more times than we probably even realize. But we were all able to quickly bring to mind past situations and relationships that we were so sure of at the time-- and yet in retrospect were the last thing we needed.

And it's such an obvious thing for someone who has faith-- but for some reason, I've never spent a lot of time thinking about the fact that I have a God who knows me far, far better than I know myself. I think maybe it is because I pride myself on being rather aware (for lack of a better word) of my own thoughts and feelings and the motivations behind what I do and say. I like to think I can anticipate most eventualities....but the fact is, I can't.

That's what this conversation brought home to me. There have been times in my life where I could have told you without a doubt what I wanted, what I needed. But, to paraphrase a dear friend, I was an idiot. Thankfully, God was there protecting me from myself.

But it makes me wonder-- was there a still, soft voice I was ignoring? Was there a niggling at my heart that I just refused to acknowledge? I think there have been times where I've heard that voice and let it guide me. But how many times have I ignored it because it wasn't what my heart wanted me to hear? How much pain and confusion could have been avoided?

I've always been someone who tried to follow my heart. But I've realized that there's no point in following your heart unless you've given it over to the One that created it.

In Case You Didn't Believe Me

It's Tornado Night! The Weathermen are very excited!!






I'm having trouble picking my favorite quote of the night. But for right now, I think it would have to be "Oh Boy!".

And if the house is wiped away tonight, you will know that :

a) Tornados do have access to the world wide web and
b) Tornados don't have much of a sense of humor

Will keep you updated as time and electricity allow......


Oh, and before I forget: for anyone who ever doubted, there IS a Xerox plant in this town and all storm positioning must be done around this very important land mark.

Frustration of the Day:

There's no real effective way to honk at the car behind you.

Early Morning Thought

I wore a (borrowed) watch earlier this week for the first time in about 5 years for reasons that don't merit explanation. And even though I only had it on for an hour and a half, it was enough to convince me I wouldn't mind going another 5 years without. I have no idea why it annoyed me so much, but it did. And even though I have at least one if not two perfectly functional watches, and my day would go easier today if I wore one, I'm not going to.

So there you go.

Oops

I didn't realize how long it had actually been since I posted. And even now, I'm not sure I have anything that interesting to say. The only thing of note I can point out at the moment is that I sat near a Scottish family last night. In fact, I spoke to a few members of that family--- but it was so loud I completely missed the best part of meeting someone from Scotland-- their accent. Someone else had to point it out to me. So you wouldn't think I would have had much of a reaction to it.

But....no.

I honestly don't know why-- but it made me giddy....almost hyper. Just ask my roomate who made the mistake of trying to take me through the Taco Bueno drive-thru afterwards. I was completely discombobulated by the mere presence of someone from the British Isles. It's not the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last. And I have no idea why it happens.

And Here Comes 30

I didn't have a lot of expectations for my 29th birthday. But here's one thing I didn't expect:

Snow!



Color me unimpressed.

Tis The Season

Now, I know what you must be wondering.... what season? The Spring Season? The Easter Season? The March Madness Season? And to all of these, I answer.....maybe, but that's not what I am talking about.

it is now rapidly approaching what I like to call the "meteorological Freak Out Season".

Yes, it is that fine time of year when -- if you are lucky enough to live in "Tornado Alley"-- you are subjected to the hyperactive rantings of over stimulated weather men. If there is a "dustnato" anywhere in the state, they will interrupt programming to let you know. And if there is a wall cloud in sight, you can hear the drool dripping off of their chins as they talk about it on every radio station for 100 miles.

Having seen the devastation the Spring storms can bring, you would think they would be happy when no weather materializes....when a storm blows itself out without turning into more....when a funnel cloud forms but never touches down. But what never ceases to amaze me is how poorly they mask their disappointment when there is no damage. Don't get me wrong-- I appreciate what they do and would want their warning if it was just a drop of hail headed my way. What I object to is that absolutely unhinged lust they have for these storms. You can see the glint in the eyes of the weather vultures-- the adrenaline rush they get that nicely compliments the inflated self-importance.

And yes...Gary England, I'm talking to you.

A Question For the Ages

I think there must be two completely different sets of single people in the world.

I keep hearing about people who are unmarried because they are "selfish" and "self absorbed". Apparently there are entire books about people who haven't married because they can't meet anyone who lives up to some grand standard they have created in their mind....people who are so stuck on some romantic ideal that they look right past the people they see every day. And I hear about it so often, I suppose it must be true. I know there are likely a great many people who may have these issues. But you know what? I also know that a great number of them are not single. I would wager that there are just as many disatisfied married people out there who suffer the same fate. They are selfish and self-absorbed. Their spouse can't live up to the grand standard they have created in their mind. And they are so focused on a romantic ideal, they look right past the hundred of kind and thoughtful things their spouse might do for them every day.

But there's another kind of single person out there-- one that includes the vast majority of single people in their 20s or 30s that I know. These people aren't unmarried because they are picky. They aren't single because they have unrealistic expectations. And if they are a little selfish sometimes, it's mainly because they've lived on their own for a long time and it's one of the privileges. The bottom line is that they are simply looking for a connection that they just haven't found yet. That's it. No more, no less. Some people are lucky-- they find it early. And while it takes strength of character to make a marriage work, the sheer existence of it isn't some mark of worthiness. And that's what I find so tiring. There are thousands (who knows-- probably millions) of unmarried people out there who deserve more than an assumption of dysfunction. They deserve respect for the strength of character it takes to be alone in a world made for couples. As my mother taught me: the worst case of loneliness is better than the best bad marriage.

I used to waffle back and forth in my mind over whether or not friendship should be a simple thing. I guess it was kind of a silly thing to ponder-- since no matter what it should be, friendships both young and old are never simple.

When I was in grade school, the big decision was about who was going to be your "best friend". It was kind of a sacred thing, really-- an exchange of trust. And in the 80s, it was even about an exchange of jewelry in the form of the best friend necklaces that were halves of a heart. My first best friend was an interesting lesson. She wore "our" necklace around me. She wore her other best friend necklaces around her other friends. I still wonder how many she had. And even at 10, I wondered why she didn't just bother to tell me she wasn't my best friend....why she swapped half a heart with me in the first place. Even then, I would have preferred the truth.

In middle school, true friendship became a rare thing. I ate lunch in the bathroom just so I didn't have to sit by myself. It sounds pathetic, I realize--but I can laugh about quite easily now because even at the time I wasn't a tortured soul. I was kind of impressed with myself for finding a way around eating by myself in the lunch room. I didn't think of myself as someone without friends-- but looking back I felt it. I know now that what I felt was an absence of trust. I think for many, many people-- that is the ultimate lesson of junior high: trust no one. At least, no one your own age.

High school and college were different. There were many friends and there were many trusts created. Some have stood the test of time, many have not. But none of them were ever simple. And yet, the best relationships are the ones that are the easiest....the ones that don't make you try hard.....the people you don't have to constantly please. I try to reconcile those two thoughts. Isn't something easy because it's simple?

But really, I've come to believe that the converse is true. That my best relationships are easy because they are far from simple. They are complex in emotion and in thought. They are creative and impulsive and shape shifting as the years go by. They are occasionally challenging, always educational, and never silent.

The truth of the matter is, a simple friendship cannot last because it cannot change.

I've once again been reprimanded for my lack of updates. I guess we can chalk this up to a lack of things I feel compelled to comment on lately.

I'm going to see Coldplay on Monday night-- but the primary reason I bought the tickets is because Fiona Apple is opening for them. It's hard to explain why I like her music so much. Really, I can sum it up in one word: lyrics. In fact, there are lots of the songs that I love in spite of the melody. But for people who don't pay attention to the lyrics of songs, that makes no sense.

My favorite line of the week?

"I think he let me down when he didn't disappoint me"

I've always had a thing for song lyrics. When I was 12 I had a notebook that I wrote down all of the lyrics that I thought were deep and meaningful. Of course, they were mostly Bon Jovi and Billy Joel songs, but work with me. I was 12. And since this was before the days of the internet, it meant I had to listen to the songs over and over until I could get all the words down. Even then, I'm sure more than a few were wrong. But I was proud of that notebook. I never showed anyone, but I was proud of it nonetheless.

So I'm looking forward to Monday night. It will be interesting to see if the live experience enhances the meaning or distracts from it.

Griffin Reid Thomas: My New Favorite Baby

As of one hour ago, I have a new nephew.

I'm laying here in bed listening to the rain and thunder, and I can't go back to sleep because there's a new little person in the world that I love.

You have joined a crazy, wonderful family little guy, and I think I can safely promise that you will always have way more love than you know what to do with.

Griffin, I want to hold you rather badly-- but as your are way too far away for that, I will simply be content with thanking God that you are here.

January 28 just became an amazing day.

Glamour Girl Morning

So today I decided to bless you all with, uhm.....not my every thought. But I did bring my lovely camera (thanks mom! thanks dad!) along with me today to document the glamerous life a career gal.

Step one: Get up before the sun decides to





Step two: Convince myself that I am wide awake and ready to face the day by abusing the flash function on my camera










Step three: Admire the pretty sunrise and try to ignore the sight/aroma of the fabulous Purina factory











Step four: Do not yell at the struggle of a driver who does not realize he should make his truck go higher than 50 on the TURNPIKE so that your 30 minute drive to work doesn't become your 50 minute drive to work!









Step five: Remember that the entire state is one giant fire hazard and not be alarmed by the CAUTION signs that are flashing over every interstate.











Step six: Enjoy the all imporant caffeine fix that Sonic kindly provides










There now..... wasn't that interesting? Aren't you glad you spent the morning with me? Just wait for the day Susan and I document our lunch hour! That will leave you breathless.

A Little of Nothing

I've been terrible about updating lately. Even my last post was more about me finally figuring out how to post a picture than anything else, really. But every time I think about posting something, I start the same interior dialogue I have before writing anything that will be semi public-- and that's how is this going to be interpreted? That constant, nagging thought is one of the hazards of actually sharing something like this with friends/family.

It's weird to write something that you know your parents will be overanalyzing (I had to inherit the gift from somewhere!) at the same time your friends are trying decide if you are talking about them or not. I have a hard time shutting that inner voice off. A close friend (who shall remain nameless but is no doubt smirking) once told me to quit analyzing everything so much. My only response was "Uhm, yeah-- do you know me at all? Of course he did, and that's why he was saying that in the first place.

Turning your brain off and just going with the flow can be a strange problem to have. I don't have that problem in all areas....but in writing it definately poses its hazards. A good writing teacher would probably just tell me, well, actually--- I don't know what a good writing teacher would tell me. In 6 years of studying literature, I never took a writing class. Never even thought about it, actually. But that's something to analyze another day.

Maybe I missed my calling as a therapist.

So when I was driving home for Christmas I got so distracted by the horizon that I literally had to pull my car over. On one side was one of the coolest sunsets I've ever seen. On the other side was a complete rainbow (though I have no evidence of that, so you'll just have to take my word for it).

10 Things Not To Get Me For Christmas

10. A fur coat. (It's not so much an animal rights thing as it is a I've never seen anyone wear one and not look like they are trying to be an German Countess thing)

9. A personalized license plate. (If you have to ask why-- then you probably don't know me well enough to buy me a present in the first place)

8. Wonder Woman Underoos (Any member of my family would be thrilled to explain this one to you as it's almost a Christmas tradition in our household. First we have the hershey kiss countdown and then we have the telling of the time Sarah cried)

7. Cabbage Patch Kid Bunk Beds (I know you wouldn't want to duplicate something I already have! Of course, I never got to use them as my parents broke them on Christmas Day only to never get them fixed, but the ensuing 18 years or so have clearly erased the bitterness from my mind)

6. A Nose Flute (Sadly, I already have one of these as well. What can I say? Even "santa" gets a little desperate every now and then)

5. "A.L.F." on DVD

4. Any movie or books about fiesty old people. (I don't know who decided that making up stories involving cranky people past their prime was a great method for entertaning the masses, but you owe me 2 hours of my life back for "Driving Miss Daisy"-- and even though I never saw "Grumpy Old Men" or the classic, "Grumpier Old Men" I feel you owe me something for them as well....mostly just for the fact that they exist.)

3. No theme purses. (The rare person other than me can pull it off. However, I am not one of those people-- nor do I have any interest in being one of those people)

2. An ice cream scoop (OK, this one isn't really true. At this stage in my life, it would be great to get a new ice cream scoop. But I mostly just brought it up to point out that someone gave me an Ice Cream Scoop for my HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION. What kind of thought process went into this? "OK, let's see.....she's 18, she's going off to college, what can we get her that will really send her on her way towards success?" Unless of course the goal was to send me on to success in gaining the "freshman 15" -- then I will have to say: Job well done, sir!)

1. Dating/Relationship Manuals of any kind. (I don't care if it's "Sole-Searching: The Art of Judging Men by Their Shoes" or "Almost Three Decades Alone! Do You Feel Like a Failure Yet?" or even "He's Just Not That Into You-- Yeah You. Hey! You! I Really Do Mean YOU!", do us all a favor and leave it on the shelf)

drabbles

I have a million different notebooks with a million different scribbles in them. I'm always finding old ones whose existence I've completely forgotten about shoved under my bed, stuffed into a drawer or crammed in between two books on my book shelf. And just for good measure, there are usually loose pages scattered in the mix as well.

I love finding these notebooks-- because it almost always means I'm going to find a "ramble" that I've completely forgotten that I'd written. It has occurred to me more than once in the past that if I died in the near future (and my preoccupation since childhood with planning my funeral is another topic for another day), whoever cleans out my room is going to get an eyeful-- especially if they don't know that not everything they read is fact. Rants about frustrations lay side by side with abandoned stories. It's the muddle of my brain.

For example, here's something I found on a scrap of paper in my desk today:


When I was 10, I couldn't wait to be a grown up. Being a grown up meant wearing clicky shoes whenever you wanted, wearing your Sunday dress all day because you were old enough not to mess it up. It meant my brother and sister not bossing me around anymore. At least that's what I thought it would be about. The funny thing is, now when I wear clicky shoes at work I wish they wouldn't make so much noise in the hall. I can't wait to get my "Sunday" clothes off when I get home, and my brother and sister still occasionally boss me around.

It's funny how we don't even know what the right things to look forward to are.


I don't remember what even prompted those thoughts....or why they are on a random slip of paper. Chances are I scribbled them while waiting for Bobby at IHOP one night or sitting in the courtyard during my lunch hour when Susan and Jessie weren't there.

They are the random thoughts that anyone has a million of as the day goes by. Don't ask me why I feel the need to record the snapshots of opinion that appear in my brain. But I'm sure I've written about it somewhere.

All I Want For Christmas

Ah, Christmas.

There are many, many glamorous aspects to the Christmas season if you are a career gal like myself. I've been really into lists lately, so inspired by a truly fabulous episode of The Office and a personal office that is perhaps unparalleled in holiday cheer-- I've decided to make a list of my favorite things about work during Christmas

*First on my list has got to be seasonal clothing of any kind.
Now, there are some amateurs out there who may think they are being festive with their red sweaters and green slacks. But to those people I pose these questions: Where is your battery operated sweatshirt? Where are your jingle bell socks? Did you honestly think that winter boots would suffice when there are Santa slippers out there to be had? And what are those gold bead earrings in your ears? A true aficionado would know where to find her Christmas light earrings that play "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas". Who do you think you are fooling? Until your office literally has a seasonal clothing swap meet, I defy you to prove your holiday dressing credentials.

*Dirty Santa.
I'm not sure which memory I prefer. The gangland-like enforcement of the $15 spending rule, or the middle school peer pressure involved in helping people trade out of presents they don't want. I mean, on the one hand you have an astonishing ability to track down "secret" gift givers and demand receipts to prove that they stayed within the limits of "enough to impress people but not enough to make them jealous and petty". But on the other hand, you have the beautiful subtlety involved in middle aged women attempting to engage in reverse psychology and/or emotional manipulation in order to keep the crystal special-edition Hallmark ornament they just opened, or to try and rid themselves of the stigma of having opened the weird candle someone (who shall remain nameless and can be a little scatterbrained occasionally but is still highly lovable) brought.

*Office Party Entertainment
Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy famous people's siblings who may or may not be able to sing as much as the next gal, but when they tell us funny stories about their unwed, pregnant, teenage daughter and find a way to use it as a transition into Oh Holy Night.....well, you just have to admire craftsmanship. But if pitchy, never famous country singers aren't your bag of tea-- there are always insane musicians who can not only play the piano while clearly possessed-- but also chuck food at audience members. If that doesn't get your holiday going, I'm not sure what will.

Hm........

Seer


The ULTIMATE personality test
brought to you by Quizilla

Little Things That I Love (in other words, a post that interests no one but me)

*Tukey Bacon

*Josie's questions

*Previews

*Club Crackers

*Eli's explanations

*When the road is so wet that it takes on the exact color of the sky

*DVR

*Anna singing along to the radio

*The yarn aisle at Hobby Lobby

*Green Apple Extra Gum

*Meredith's Pentacostal leanings

*Scarfs

*The Office

*TWOP recaps

*Full Moons that remind me of Sara Bo

*Flip Flops

To The Attention of Those Who Know And/or Love Me; Some Reminders You Apparently Need:

*I do not want my wedding to look like something out of a renaissance Fair.

*I don't automatically like a piece of clothing just because it's flowy and/or sheer.

*I don't have every detail of the life of an actor who shall remain nameless memorized.

*I don't think that Will Ferrell is "hot".

*I'm not a wimpy girlie girl. Don't underestimate a girl just because she would rather read than throw a softball (ahem)

*Just because I call the football officials "umpires" sometimes, it doesn't mean I don't understand how the game is played.

*I'm not a picky eater. Some things just aren't worth eating.

*Just because someone spent 6 years studying literature does not mean she is a good speller.

fascists in the attic

So I've been thinking a lot about friendship lately....the phases it goes through, why the ones you think will last rarely do, and how often our friendships are more about ourselves than our friends.

Uneven friendships have always annoyed me. I remember getting into one of my first real arguments with a friend when I was little because I realized that I had her over to stay the night all the time-- while she had never asked me once. Until she yelled the words at me, the thought never occurred to me that she might be embarrassed to have me over to her trailer when I lived in a big house. All I saw was the fear that I cared more than she did.

You'd think we'd outgrow the tit for tat friendship trap once we mature....but it just morphs into different forms of measuring. You have a friend you love, and you want to know how they are doing. But you don't call them. Why? Because last month you called them three times and they only left you a message once and that was after you had called them. So you forego the conversation with someone you've known for 10 years because of a phone tally.

No one likes being in a relationship that is all about one person. At what point do we decide that our own needs are more important than the needs of everyone else? If someone is constantly talking about themselves and their life it's irritating. After all-- what's more annoying than a self-absorbed person who is clueless about the fact that everything is always about them? I get so caught up in being annoyed that I forget that there is always a reason for people's words and actions. The thought that they don't care about me or my feelings hurts me. And then I'm right back to where I was when I was little and the fear that I care more than they do.

So why do we get to the point where we never ask why? How do you maintain any sort of relationship with someone you are afraid to talk to-- afraid to tell how you feel-- afraid to show your emotions to? Why do so many people exist in emotional stalemates they pretend are friendships?

So You Wanna Understand Men. That's Cute. Really.

You'll Thank Me For This Some Day: Part Deux

So if the following post means absolutely nothing to you, please see below:

Part One


So I promised this would be continued, and it just so happens that we've recently stumbled onto a few new issues that have been indentified by our specialists. (Plus I keep getting in trouble for not updating.....so Amy & Susan-- this is for you)


Social Amnesia
While this disorder used to be rare, it has become more and more common throughout the early 21st Century. Men with this condition seem unable to recall what their plans are when asked. The result of this disease is an inability to firmly commit to any plans-- big or small. Men who are afflicted with Social Amnesia simply can not be expected to be timely or to make or keep plans. If they do attempt to settle a plan, friends and family should remember that the subject simply cannot be trusted to know his own mind.



Apology Reflux
A chronic condition that occurs when men are forced to repeatedly apologize to the women in their lives. Common symptoms include a sour taste in the mouth, a burning sensation in the stomach, and redness on the temples from repeated brow beating. Studies have shown that small levels of "sincerity" can go a long way to reducing these symptoms.



Antonym Response Syndrome
This speech disorder is more commonly referred to as "Opposite Day Loop". This is because men who are afflicted become unable to say what they mean. The more they try to convey their thoughts and feelings, the more they get stuck in the loop. If they are jealous, they find themselves saying they are amused. If their feelings are hurt, they will complain of physical pain from kicking the nearest wall. If they don't want to see you anymore, they will offer to call you tomorrow night. This syndrome often begins in early childhood, but the good news is that if it is caught early by a diligent mother, the effects can be reversed.




It should be pointed out that it is only because of my great love of men that I feel that I can mock them so. As anyone who knows me will tell you-- I probably wouldn't bother otherwise. I have been thinking, though, that it seems unfair to just pick on the men. There are a lot of female disorders out there as well--and the only fair thing to do might be to have our experts weigh in on those as well. I might get kicked out of the girl club for that, though, so I will have to ponder that one.

Hollywood is Draining

So I'm sitting here watching the Emmy awards for who knows what reason (I would blame my roommate who turned it on in the first place-- but she has long since been driven out of the room by my yelling at the television. Unfortunately, I still have it on.)....anyway, I'm sitting here watching a parade of smug, pretty people who think they know what's best for the world if only the rest of us would listen. I don't suppose it would be any better if they were smug, ugly people.

But the fact remains that they have been given a forum because they are "entertaining". So why they must take that forum and use it to tell me what they think about world events is beyond me. The man in the Arby's drive-thru doesn't tell me what he thinks should happen in Iraq before handing me my roast beef. The lady at the library doesn't insist that she give me her plan for social security before allowing me to check out an audio book. So I don't see why these people who are paid to make unreality real think we want to hear it from them-- especially on a night when they get all prettied up to pat themselves on the back for being oh so great.

If I want news, I'll turn on CNN....not E! Entertainment Television (though lately the line between the two is admittedly starting to blur more and more)

And before you say it, yes I know it's my fault for watching in the first place.

Sit Right Back and You'll Hear a Tale (Kinda)

So I think we have a neighbor that wanted to be Noah but lost his nerve. For quite some time now I've noticed the inexplicable stock piling of wood they have going on..... it's in the front yard, in the back yard, in the garage, in the driveway.....no amount of fence building could ever explain the amount of wood this family has. And yet a few days ago a sign mysteriously appeared in their yard: Wood For Sale

And now I am left with a burning curiosity-- what on earth could Not-Quite-Noah have been building? And who talked him out of it? Now you might be thinking: Sarah, what if he just wanted to start a side business? What if he thought, Sarah, that selling random pieces of wood in highly unusable sizes and shapes would be a great way to supplement his income? I would say two things in response-- One, don't use my name more than once like that. It creeps me out. And two, if he wanted to start a wood farm, he shouldn't live in a subdivision.

I suppose I could pretend to be in deep need of a good piece of wood to do some whittling with and ask the man....but I think we all know how I feel about talking to people I don't know (unless it's over the phone and dealing with my computer, but that's another story for another day).

10 Reasons Why I Love Dorky Men

1. They crack themselves up even if no one else finds them funny.

2. I can say things like "He's about as lost as Frodo without Gandalf!" and not only will they know what I mean, but more importantly, they'll appreciate the analogy. (and let's be honest, they will likely take it another step or two)

3. They are almost always willing to play Trivial Pursuit with me.

4. They never ever go tanning.

5. They have never owned a pair of Oakleys.

6. They don't say things like "Good'ay Mate!" when I tell them I am going to Austria.

7. The highlight of their literary life isn't Sports Illustrated.

8. They don't use more hair products than I do.

9. Their hair just never quite looks right (see #8).

10. By nature of their own dorkiness, they can't take themselves too seriously.

And Now Everyone Will Think It's Them......

So I was looking for my long lost spare car key the other morning when I stumbled onto some old letters from someone who was a good friend. To say that I was shocked to find these letters would be an understatement considering I had forgotten that a) they existed and b) I still had copies of them. To put it mildly, it was, well...... weird.

Changes in people and relationships happen so gradually usually, that sometimes it's hard to see them sneaking up on you. And even when you do notice that a friendship is morphing (for the good or the bad) it's not something that's particularly easy to point out. People grow and change and you can't always condemn them for that. (Unless they evolve into a sucky kind of person, that should be condemned whole heartedly.) But it's strange to be confronted with the past in such a literally black and white way.

They say that hindsight is 20/20, but in situations like this all it does for me is make things murkier. How can relationships that were once so meaningful mean so little now? It makes you wonder if you were always completely wrong about a person-- or at the very least your meaning to that person. Falling out of friendship is a lot like falling out of love in that way, I suppose. Is the absence of caring today proof that it never existed? Obviously not, but when you enter the time warp that letters from the past provide, it really starts to feel that way. I look at words that meant so much at the time and wonder what happened to the person that wrote them. And then I wonder what happened to the person they were written to.

Saving bits of the past is something I can't help but do-- but it's dangerous because it almost always leads to second guessing the past. And that is unquestionably a bad idea for a hobby.

I Tell You This At Great Personal Risk

I just found the most hilarious, sad, and disturbing thing I've seen in quite some time:

http://www.romanceclass.com/miscr/sorry/sorry.asp

You can rate people's apologies.

(Yes, I do have a perfectly good reason for being at www.romanceclass.com. No it wasn't so I could pick up tips, thank you very much. But just for that, I don't think I am going to tell you what I was doing there)


OH! And I took a "What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life? quiz". Here are the (edited) results, but unless they know something I don't, the answer is not based in reality:


Your kind of movie is When Harry Met
Sally. It seems that you're falling for a buddy
or have already fallen for them. Uh-oh. You're
probably caught between the possibility of
having a great relationship and wrecking the
one you have now. You know what they say, it's
better to regret something you did than
something you didn't do.


What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life?
brought to you by Quizilla


Now all of you quit laughing at me and go and take the quiz. If you do, put your results in the comments. Now I'm all curious (and slightly paranoid-- be careful! Apparently I am secretly in love with one of you.....)

Welcome to the world Delaney Anne Baker!!!!!!!!!


I know you've only been with us about 6 hours now, and I haven't met you--- but I already love you. That's just the way it is, kiddo.

Here are some of my wishes/prayers/hopes for you (and I know I'll have to read this to you later, but that's OK) :

*That you always know God and love him as He loves you

*That you are always always true to yourself....and if you're not sure who you are, then that you are willing to take the time to find out.

*That you know what an awesome Mommy and Daddy you have....even if your Mommy does always make you let her say goodbye first.

*That you inherit your Mother's love for reading (yes, even Lori Wick books will be acceptable)....because your cool almost-aunt Sarah is going to be giving you lots of books.

*That you inherit your Dad's grin.

*That you like cameras cause you're gonna see a lot of them.

*That you are odd enough to be interesting but not weird enough to distress your Mother.

You'll Thank Me For This Some Day: Part 1

If there has been one phrase that I have heard on a consistent basis since I was 12 years old, it would be some variation on one of these:

"What is WRONG with him?" or "What was he THINKING?" or "Why did he DO that?" or my personal favorite "On what planet would any male think that was acceptable behavior?"

In short-- for all of the complaining that men do about women and how complex, evil, mean, (fill in the blank with your favorite complaint here) we are....the fact of the matter is that there is almost always logic to what we do. It might be mean logic, or self-absorbed logic, or clueless logic, or manipulative logic-- but chances are there's a method to our madness. Men, however, have been known to exhibit quite bizarre behavior for no real reason that is discernible to the female eye (and trust me, if there is a angle to be analyzed, we WILL cover it).

But I've been thinking about it, and I've decided that there must be a way to decode that behavior. And even if there isn't a way to decode it, there has to at least be a way to classify it. And so in the name of all of my dear, sweet estrogen-filled friends who have been driven crazy by the opposite sex, I now present.....

The Hardly Begins to Scratch the Surface of It Guide to Men's Emotional Diseases: A Guide for Single and Married Woman Alike.


~F.A.D.D.~ (Female attention Deficit Disorder)

This condition is closely related to the more commonly known condition of Attention Deficit Disorder. It manifests itself in men as an inability to focus on one female for more than 2-3 weeks at a time. For a short time, their attention is intense and focused on the subject, but before long they are bouncing to the next female in line. Some woman are tempted to take this personally, feeling that an interest in what they have to say one day should indicate an interest in what they are going to have to say tomorrow as well. However, it is important to remember that men afflicted with F.A.D.D. cannot be held responsible for this (what could be termed as jerkiness under normal circumstances) behavior. Inconstancy is their curse. Large doses of vitamins and dramatic scenes of attention-demanding have been known to improve this condition in the short term. However, the only long term cure for F.A.D.D. is a large injection of a new drug called Emotional Maturity. Due to the time and effort involved in making this product, however, it is still relatively difficult to find in the market place.

~Emotaphobia~

An extreme fear of expressing and receiving genuine emotion. While much has been made of the condition of "Commitmentaphobia" of the years, little has been known about Emotaphobia which is often the true root condition. Not much is known about the origins of this disorder, but it is estimated that 1 in 3 males have at the very least a mild version of this condition. Common warning signs include inappropriate joking during break ups, a punch on the shoulder instead of a hug when parting for long periods, and long winded explanations of obscure video games when you mention the word "relationship". Scientists have found that immersion therapy works best for mild versions of this disorder, including long walks in the park and repeated viewing of "Beaches".

~Social Bi-Polar Disorder~

A disorder that is characterized by alternating periods of manic attention and extreme disinterest in a specific member of the opposite sex. The two most common street names of this condition are "M&M" (the Mr. Maybe Syndrome) and the Yo-Yo Factor. The names are apt, as victims of this disease suffer from an imbalance that makes them physically incapable of making up their minds as to whether or not they want to date someone. Unfortunately, there is no known cure for this disorder. However, ear plugs for the women have been found to be effective in some situations.

~D.D.I.D. ~ (Dissociative Dating Identity Disorder)

A dissociative mental disorder related to dating in which two or more distinct personalities exist within the same individual. This condition often manifests when a male moves from "friend" mode to "date" mode. A subject suffering from this disorder can be considered a kind, thoughtful, and attentive friend and yet turn into the opposite when dating. Diagnosis and treatment are difficult as men are quite often completely unaware when the conflicting personality takes over. Various solutions have been tried over the years with little to no success. Some women cling to the old wive's tale that claims a good smack upside the head can "knock the jerkiness out", but recent studies have proven this assertion to be dubious in nature.



To Be Continued......

The Purple Rock

Someone asked me today what my "type" of guy is. I've been thinking about it--- because while I gave them a perfectly valid answer for how I felt at 11:45 this morning, chances are you could ask me again tomorrow at 1:30 and I'll have a slightly different opinion.

Some days (ok, bill paying days) I want someone organized and accountant-like. Other days I want someone laid back and easy going about all things. Sometimes structure seems like a good idea and other times it seems like the most boring thing in the world. (Can you want someone who will change your world and protect it at the same time? And is now the time to mention I once wrote a pros and cons list for marrying a South American dictator? Probably not.)

Of course there are always non-negotiables like loving and serving God, liking children, not being rude to waiters, the need to be truthful with himself and others, and a willingness to watch Orlando Bloom movies without making fun of them.

But there are always other things that are negotiable, but that never really waiver. I don't care if you can shoot a basketball, pitch a baseball, or catch a football (although kicking a soccer ball does have a certain oddly European charm)-- but trounce me at Trivial Pursuit and you'll have my attention. I'd also prefer your history not be filled with the shootings of woodland creatures for the fun of it (though a notable exception can be made here for birds. I don't care what you do with those rats with wings.)

The more I think about it, though, the more it seems like the whole notion of "types" does more harm than good. Sure it's important to have standards and dreams, but beyond all the black and white issues there are a million personal preferences that in the end just create limitations on the future that God has in store for us.

"I'm a sexy man of God and I know it."

I have a weird love of bad movie lines. They bring a movie to a screeching halt, cause confusion in the audience, and generally make me think Why am I not working in Hollywood if they paid someone to write that?

Now I know that everyone can't be Cameron Crowe (and no, I am NOT going to take this moment to remind everyone that he is the jointly owned BFF of a couple of lucky LUCKY ladies I just might know). But still-- take a moment to look at the title above and then tell me your not torn between your desire to smack the person who originally typed that and taking a moment to pat their head.

"We all have our little faults. Mine's in California."

If you have ever wondered why some women like super hero movies so much, you need look no further than the closest male in her life. You see, super hero movies just reinforce the notion that maybe just maybe there really IS a good reason that man in your life always flakes out on you. He really truly doesn't want to let you down time after time, but he has to save the world you see. And it isn't that they don't know what they want. ... it's that the fate of the planet prevents them from having it.

We really like believing that the only reason you would ever stand us up is to save a bus of school children from a meteorite that is speeding to earth. It's not that you got a better offer from one of your friends. It's not that you decided to stay home and have some quality time with your playstation. And of course, you only give us these sad excuses because you can't tell us what you are really doing. That would be giving up your secret identity.


Who wouldn’t rather believe that that it’s Batman disappointing them rather than Apathyman?

I'm a Gotham City DA, Let Me Pass!

So it's an interesting phenomenon when the people you love think that your affection for them gives them permission to be rude.

Some people use the excuse of humor. Some people use the excuse of concern. Some people use the excuse of love. And the rare, honest ones don't use an excuse at all.

I've always preferred honesty. But not everyone does.

My Dad says I like to shock people with blunt words. I think that might be true, but not for the reasons he thinks. It's not the cheap thrill of a shocked expression that I like (though it can be occasionally fun). I'm more intrigued that people are often shocked by truth. Not cruel truths or even brutal ones...but simple, calm, every day truths can make people squirm like the Inquisition. And that fascinates and saddens me all at the same time.

I don't like it when people hide their frustration with pointed jokes and innuendo. I don't like it when people hide their sadness with bright and brittle cheerfulness. I don't like it when people sacrifice themselves to the clamoring masses in order to hide their loneliness. I don't like it when people are crude in order to hide their own confusion and dismay.

I like myself least when I go for the cheap laugh at the expense of someone I love. When I see the smile on their face but the hurt in their eye-- that's when I know I just sold a little of myself away for something that won't last. I do it all the time. It's not premeditated. More often than not, it's completely thoughtless. And that's what makes it worse. Something you do without thinking is more a part of you than a thousand planned insults could ever be.

Life stays the same until it doesn't.

Mt. Rushmore

A friend asked me today why weird things always seem to happen when I'm around. I don't think I really have a good answer for that. I mean, I've heard the rumor that I, myself, am not the most normal apple in the bunch (wait-- apples don't come in bunches....should I have said barrel there? Cause I don't think that people really say "the most normal grape in the bunch".....of course they could and it would be just as valid. I like grapes.)

Anyway, I don't know that I think weird things happen to me more than anyone else. Ok, that's a lie. I don't know anyone else who has been forced by the state of Kansas to cut the windshield out of their car. I only know four other people that have ever gotten lost in a an underground labyrinth in Germany. But those are just the four people that were with me, so I'm not sure they count. And there is the letter I got from the lonely felon who saw my address in a church bulletin--- but I don't think my weirdness attractors could have worked through a piece of paper...right?

Now, I know what you're thinking. Yes, my car was stolen from below my bedroom window by a ring of Russian Car thieves. And it's true that when the police found my car we realized they took all of my CDs except for Natalie Merchant. But that's not weird so much as unfortunate. There is the incident of me accidentally telling my Irish soul mate that I have a boyfriend but that was more stupidity than weirdness (of course the fact that his friends were wearing plastic face masks of Irish politicians did add a certain odd flair to the talk....)

And you know, my first night in Europe when I was 17 did entail getting followed by a gang of drunken men down a Parisian street at midnight...but it also involved a very nice man in a suit with a baby who scared the drunkards off and found a nice Jamaican woman to walk me and my friend back to our hotel. And my teacher did get arrested (while I had all of his money and his passport) on our trip to Greece the next summer for jumping into a fountain, but that was him-- not me. I didn't get "arrested" until two years later-- and that was in Slovakia not Greece. And the only reason I was there in the first place was to get free refills at the Little Caesar's in Brataslava. They didn't have that in Vienna. What? It made perfect sense at the time.

And now that I've reread this, I'm impressed anyone is willing to go anywhere with me at all.

I sometimes wonder if anyone in the world is as happy as they seem to be. We spend years comparing our lives to the lives of the people around us without realizing that what we really might be doing is comparing performances.

Every now and then we get a peak at the mania or insecurity or desperation buried in each other, but instead of grasping the view for what it is, we turn away embarrassed. As if it's better to see paintings of someone's soul instead of windows into it.

Why are so many people afraid of living genuine lives? Why are so many of us afraid of telling people what we really think and feel and want? Is it because we are still figuring out a way to be honest about what we see in the mirror and hold in our hearts? I honestly don't know. But when you think about how many lives have been completely spent in the pursuit of a phantom happiness that never seems to materialize it can get a little overwhelming.

Gush vs Mush

There are millions of GUYS in the world.

Yes, Yes I know. I'm quite the one with original thoughts. But don't get blown away yet. There's more to come from this mind that is nothing short of a steel trap. (even if it does sometimes pretend to be a steel trap that sitting on the floor of a marshmallow forest, but that's another story for another day)

Anyway, while discussing romantic interests with a friend (who shall remain nameless but has access to this website which obviously severely narrows the pool) the other day, I had a sort of mini revelation. And I do stress MINI. This is not exactly on the level of Paul on the road to Damascus. For that matter, it's not even on par with the guy at Wonder Bread who said "Hey! I wonder if people would like this to be SLICED!" But I digress.....

I realized that though I have had many crushes in my life, they almost never really progress to anything of note. There are many possible reasons for this.

1. My apparent natural reaction to a crush as a teenager was to immediately begin to ignore the object of my affection lest that someone suspect that his unfortunate nerdiness had caught my eye. (and we'll just pretend that this has changed in my adulthood for now, OK? No need to get to REAL here)

2. As a child my parents had me innoculated against romance. Therefore, if any possible romantic situations approach, my immunities kick into gear-- producing stupid comments, lots of blushing, general confusion and even a little hostility on occasion.

3. My general beauty, intelligence, fierce wit and all around awesomeness just intimidates too many guys for me to ever have a chance at a lasting relationship.


While some of these may or may not be true, I've realized there is one important factor I'd never really thought about

4. Time after time I have gone after boys who will someday grown into a GUY instead of boys who will someday grown into a MAN. Or to use my new super fun "mini revelation" wording, I've had Guy Crushes = Gushes instead of Man Crushes= Mushes. And now that I am a super awesome adult, I feel that I am drowning in a world of Gushes-- not only my own but my friends' as well.

Do you think it's a coincidence that Mush and Maturity both start with an M?

I think not!

A Life with a View

We all get trapped in endless cycles of frustration that build over time....exploding then hardening like an active volcano, slowly growing into a mountain in your heart.

There must be another way to grow.

Some people live their lives by the Big Bang and Evolution Theory. They wait for the cataclysmic event to just happen out of nowhere and give them sudden meaning. And from that explosion, they think that with very little forethought their lives will morph and change and grow into what it is supposed to be.

A world that is not created means a life that was not created. An accidental world begets generations of people living accidental lives.

I choose to see the meaning.

An Observation

Having someone tell you that you are smart for doing something painfully obvious is almost worse than being called stupid.

A Day With Susan: Entertaining to No One But Me....?

 -----Original Message-----
From:   Susan
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:46 PM
To:     Sarah
Subject:        smells
>
> The bathroom smells like bubble gum again....


----Original Message-----
From:   Sarah
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:46 PM
To:     Susan
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> I think you have been hanging around me too much


 -----Original Message-----
From:   Susan
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:47 PM
To:     Sarah
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> That could be true but not the cause of the bathroom smelling like bubble gum.  Did you go take a sniff?


 -----Original Message-----
From:   Sarah
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:48 PM
To:     Susan
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> Ok. You need to reread your email and do it now.
>
> Done?
>
> Ok, let's review......you  just asked me to go sniff the bathroom.


 -----Original Message-----
From:   Susan
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:50 PM>
To:     Sarah
Subject:        RE: smells
>
>LOL.....seriously LOL!!
>
> What?  I'm just saying.  Still LOL!!!


 -----Original Message-----
From:   Sarah
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:51 PM
To:     Susan
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> Yes, I clearly get what your saying. I just wanted YOU to get what you were saying.
>
> Dork.


 -----Original Message-----
From:   Susan
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:53 PM
To:     Sarah
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> I knew what I was saying!  It still smells like bubble gum.
>
> How is it that people don't think I want them to use my new box so they don't have to come back here!


 -----Original Message-----
From:   Sarah
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:54 PM
To:     Susan
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> They probably don't a) realize you have one or b) forget you do or c) love you more than you could ever realize


 -----Original Message-----
From:   Susan
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:57 PM
To:     Sarah
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> They a) know I have one b/c they ask if they should put it in the box or bring it in here b) refer to a and c) WHATEVER!
>


-----Original Message-----
From:   Sarah
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:59 PM
To:     Susan
Subject:        RE: smells
>
> Well you need to remember that a) people have short attention spans and that b) your box probably doesn't feel homey enough and maybe you should make a little mini welcome mat for it and c) that's not the way to put off positive vibes about ourselves, now is it?


----Original Message-----
From:   Susan
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 3:01 PM
To:     Sarah
Subject:        This is fun!
>
> All semi-good points but a) that really isn't an excuse b) that would be hilarious if I did and c) I'm not really worried about the reactions to my "vibes" at work!

-----Original Message-----
From:   Sarah
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 3:04 PM
To:     Susan
Subject:        RE: This is fun!
>
> Thank you for your affirmation, however a) sometimes reality likes to show you who's boss (and it ain't Tony Danza) and b) it would be like a little House Mouse could come and hang out at your mailbox not to mention that c) you are a big, svelte liar.


-----Original Message-----
From:   Susan
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 3:06 PM
To:     Sarah
Subject:        RE: This is fun!
>
> I'm out!  That is just too funny to compete with!!
>
> Still laughing!!!!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


-----Original Message-----
From:   Sarah
Sent:   Tuesday, March 22, 2005 3:55 PM
To:     Susan
Subject:        RE: LOL...LOL....LOL
>
>   Yeah, I for one am not the most in the loop person ever.
>
>  Of course when it involves 30 year olds trying to get their gossip straight, that doesn't really break my heart.

 -----Original Message-----
From:         Susan
Sent: Tuesday, March 22, 2005 3:56 PM
To:   Sarah
Subject:      RE: LOL...LOL....LOL
>
> I would totally agree with that!!
>
> Preach it, sister!!


 -----Original Message-----
From:         Sarah
Sent: Tuesday, March 22, 2005 4:01 PM
To:   Susan
Subject:      RE: LOL...LOL....LOL
>
> And 'lo on that day, when the sun comes rising over the hills.........and we are all together in the fields of love......the men shall rise up and say "I WILL be emotionally mature. I WILL think before I speak. I WILL be honest about what I'm feeling." And on that day, there will be a great rejoicing in the streets. And the women will weep tears of joy for the days to come......

 

Revelate

Everyone has reached that point when the absolutely know something in a crystal clear way they have never seen before. For some unfathomable reason, a cloud lifts.... the mist clears... and a light from above illuminates the old shadows that never wanted to leave.

It's like that moment when sitting with an old friend, you realize that they don't know you at all any more. Sometimes all it takes is one misguided sentence to reveal the gap of years gone by. You could never summarize or even recognize all the changes you have gone through or the growth in your spirit…but in the blink of someone else's eye, you see what they can't see about you. And in that instance, you know that the time of your friendship is over and nothing can ever return it to the way it was.

...with that deviant behavior

I love taking personality tests. I've determined that I am an idealist with a predisposition to psychic abilities. If I were a color I'd be a purple, and if I were a muppet, I'd be Kermit. I can tell you what kind of painting I would be (Monet's Waterlillies), and I also know that if I were a villain in a James Bond movie, I'd be killing people with flaming shishkabobs. Oh, and apparently my aura is gold.

I don't know what my obsession with personality tests suggests, but I'm sure I could find a quiz that would tell me.


P.S. To the man I saw today with the bumper sticker that said "Pure Evil!" and the vanity plate that said "Evil 1"-- I would like to say that you have put Tammy Tightpants to shame. I've never been so scared in all my life. You and your scary Ford Truck are clearly meant to be feared.

(And yes Susan, that was meant in green font)

It's A Time Machine!

I just finished reading "The Time Traveller's Wife" and it made me think about my own childhood. And now I invite you to travel with me...back in time to visit my 10 year old, diary writing self. It is October, 1987..........



*****************
"Today started off great. But of course Steph ruined my life! Me and Kelly (the double crosser) said she had an idea. She said that we could teach Steph about not being wanted and interrupting. She said I could go home and she'd have Steph over and I would come over and she would be mean and rude to Steph. Turns out she decides to back out and is so nice to Steph it would make you sick and she so rude and mean to me it would make you sick. Then her and Steph say they want to go to Kmart! And they ask me if I want to come in a mean voice. I said sure if you don't mind walking! But they said OH NO we don't want to walk. I guess you can't come and walked off! And that's what I call rude. Kelly is just a two faced pig who can't even see through Steph. Her other friend Anne is OKAY but Steph is such a baby. She has to take a nap and she talks like a three year old. And she gets 20 dollars allowance. When Kelly gets back I'll give her a piece of my mind. Next she'll be saying "make room for buetiful princess Kelly." She should be saying making room for two faced hog nose Kelly! We got a new T.V. It's huge!"

*****************


I don't know what's more disturbing about that entry-- that I was so eager to go along with Kelly's plan to be mean to Steph (though I have to say that she was a rather wretched little girl-- at 27 I still remember that and feel the need to rationalize my poor behavior) or my ability to switch from calling my "best friend" a quite impressive name to talking about our new TV without batting an eye.


How about we journey forward and visit my teen self? It is now July, 1991


************
" Well, I haven't seen Point Break....yet. But tomorrow I'm going to see a different Keanu Reeves movie "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey" It's the sequel to "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure". Well, next week I go to camp. And I can't say how much I'm looking forward to it! (NOT!) Today Kelly found one of the keys to my drawer. I guess I'll have to hide them better from her! She is soooooo nosey! Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just that it's sooooo obnoxious! But hey, people say I'm nosey too......Well, the school year is fast approaching, and I'm not looking forward to it! I mean, I've never even been on a date......You know what I just thought of, if I die sometime soon Mom or Dad will probably read this. Depressing thought, huh!?!! Jeesh, I really hope I don't die before I'm old. But then again-- what if I'm an old maid, who never gets married!?!! Well, I still wouldn't want to die! Wait a minute- why am I even talking about death- How depressing!"
************


At least I decided that I wouldn't want to die if I was an Old Maid.....sort of........

Shock Me Shock Me Shock Me

Have you ever seen someone who just seemed utterly trapped in their life? You watch them sit in a dark room with no interest in what is on the TV in front of them. You watch them gaze out a window without the slightest appreciation for the view it holds. You watch them stare at themselves in the mirror and wonder what they see looking back at them.

People are dealt a million different hands in life but what do you do with someone who just lays down the cards without a second glance? You can't make someone care about the game. You can't make someone care about themselves....and you definately can't make them care about you.

Savory Does Not Apply To You OR Your Car

Here's a tip-- if the name of something you are buying starts with "Vanity" and ends with "Plate" then it's a pretty safe bet you probably should just leave it on the shelf at the DMV.

Maybe my memory is faulty, but it seems to me that when I was younger the personalized license plate wasn't all that common. Sure, you had your occasional spoiled housewife who felt the need to declare to the world that her new minivan was "DEBSTOY". And if you were in a small town, you were going to run into the occiasonal idiot that feels the need to let you know that "ILUVGUNS". But most sane people had their boring old car tags that made no sense.

Sadly there seems to be an unfortunate trend these days of anyone and everyone having a personalized car tag.

For example, you have Kenny Cashcow, proud new owner of a Hummer. Now, this is great news for Kenny who clearly has money to burn and a strong disdain for our natural resources. What better way to celebrate that than paying the government extra money for a little tin tag that says "MYHUMMR"? I mean, I realize the car says HUMMER about 50 times in different places on the body, but if you hadn't added that important vanity plate, I might never have realized that you-- the person sitting behind the wheel-- are in fact the proud owner. Well done, Kenny. Well done.

And then you have Tammy Tightpants who is so cool that she has to pay the DMV to tell you that she's a "WLDGRL" Good thing she put that on the back of her Chevy Cavalier, because otherwise I might never have noticed and given her the wide-eyed respect that she's so clearly due. She's a WIlDGIRL! Who am I to question the fact that she's smoking, talking on a cell phone and letting her five year old climb all over her front seat while she drives 80 down the freeway? Oh to be like Tammy. A girl can only dream.

The Truths of Boardwalk

Monopoly brings out the worst in people. I don't care who you are or how good your general attitude is in life. Someone puts little pieces of paper money in your hand and little cardboard cut outs of pretend properties, and an otherwise generous, loving person becomes the Donald Trump of their living room.

Ladies Night Out: Year 27

The Enigma That Is Me: January 2005


I know an unusally large number of single women. I don't know if that says more about me, them, or the men in our lives. (and by "men in our lives" I am being generous and including anyone who might possibly walk by)

When I was growing up, I didn't get boys at all (and by that I mean understand boys-- but to be honest, I didn't GET them either, so read it however you want). I didn't really understand why they liked to pretend to shoot each other. I never understood why taping our dog's ears together was a riotous good time. And I really never understood why they were mean to both the girls they liked and didn't like-- and we were supposed to somehow be able to tell the difference.

As I got older and started to believe that I did, in fact, know EVERYTHING-- I thought I had boys pretty well figured out. They liked to pretend to shoot each other because it made them feel adventerous. They liked to tape the dog's ears together because it made them feel powerful. And they were mean to the girls they didn't like to try and get a laugh out of the girls they did. Those were the keys-- Adventure, Power, and Laughter. Basically? It all boiled down to the fact that boys were attention whores.

Now I'm back in the camp of not understanding the boys who are now men (or at least should be, but that's another post for another day). Are they still attention whores? Well, some of them are. But then-- some of my female friends are as well. Do they like adventure? Some of them do.

But what I didn't understand until more recently is that some of them would much rather have the semblance of adventure than a real one-- and that's something a lot of us have in common at one point or another.

I suppose I should find the common ground reassuring, but I don't.