Don't worry; it's scary on purpose. In the name of trying new things, and because I hate myself, this Friday I will be going to Nightmare: Vampires, "New York's Most Horrifying Haunted House." (We also had a coupon.)
I'm not an adrenaline junkie, nor am I a fan of scary movies. I'm also not a good person to take to haunted houses because my first instinct when someone jumps out at me is to punch him or her. However, this isn't your typical stick your hand in "eyeballs" and mummies popping out of tombs haunted house. If you haven't already clicked on the link above, once you do you'll see what I'm talking about. And no grabbing or touching is involved. I checked. It's theater . . . in which you are one of the characters.
It took me a good hour to decide whether I wanted to go. I don't think I'll regret it, as long as I don't soil myself or punch anyone, and may even have fun, but I'm really not looking forward to waiting in line to go in. This has nothing to do with the waiting or the line, just the fear/anxiety/anticipation I'll be feeling before we go in. This will probably be the worst part. I could drink a glass or two or eight of wine to relax, but then I might pee my pants. Maybe a shot or two? I might throw up. Drink or take nothing? I might have a heart attack. I've got two days to make this very important decision. I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Adventures in New York City
Today I went down to the IFC Center and saw Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which is based on a David Foster Wallace novel of the same name (which I didn't read - don't tell). I went for the following reasons: (1) I wanted to see if John Krazinski could be unadorable and (2) the subject was men. It turns out John Krazinski can play a nonphysically unadorable character. That the subject was men motivated me not in a Samantha Jones way but more out of curiosity. The main character in the movie is a female grad student studying feminism who decides to do her research on how the feminist movement has affected men and on what modern men think modern women want. For a good review of the movie, see Jed Cohen's in the Huffington Post, but right now we're talking about me. I have a tendency to romanticize or completely simplify men, depending on the man. Since it was possible that this movie could provide a little insight to "the other side" I hopped and the subway and bought a ticket. Not that knowing what men think women want is a subject I often think about, but since I'm not a man, and can never be a man when talking to men, I've always wondered how (straight) men truly feel about women. But I'm guessing for every man asked a different answer is given. Which probably isnt' a bad thing. No person with a penchant for character-driven movies will feel they wasted their time watching this movie (just be prepared for the movie characters to sound like book characters), but it didn't make my to-buy list like Away We Go did. The book, however, I may read.
After the movie I walked over to Bleeker Street to the Magnolia Bakery. I'm not a person prone to whimsey, but visiting a bakery in Greenwich Village left me feeling a little whimsical, as did the sunshine, and the kids playing in the playground across the street. So, on a whim of course, I walked down 11th street to the river hoping for a riverside bench or park. And a park there was. I ate my flourless chocolate cake in the little riverside park, stood up and wiped the powdered sugar off my pants, and walked back to Bleeker on Perry Street. When I reached Bleeker I crossed it and kept walking on Perry because I saw stoops on that side of Perry, and, as I've learned in this past month, I like walking down streets with stoops. Because it's whimisical? I'd bet good money that one of those stoops was Carrie Bradshaw's, and if not, they were very similar. (On the show she gives her address as something East 76th street, but I don't think it's a real address.) So far it's my favorite street in the city, but it could have just been the cake talking.
I realize I made two Sex and the City references in this blog. I'd apologize, but it will probably happen again, so I'm not really repentful.
After the movie I walked over to Bleeker Street to the Magnolia Bakery. I'm not a person prone to whimsey, but visiting a bakery in Greenwich Village left me feeling a little whimsical, as did the sunshine, and the kids playing in the playground across the street. So, on a whim of course, I walked down 11th street to the river hoping for a riverside bench or park. And a park there was. I ate my flourless chocolate cake in the little riverside park, stood up and wiped the powdered sugar off my pants, and walked back to Bleeker on Perry Street. When I reached Bleeker I crossed it and kept walking on Perry because I saw stoops on that side of Perry, and, as I've learned in this past month, I like walking down streets with stoops. Because it's whimisical? I'd bet good money that one of those stoops was Carrie Bradshaw's, and if not, they were very similar. (On the show she gives her address as something East 76th street, but I don't think it's a real address.) So far it's my favorite street in the city, but it could have just been the cake talking.
I realize I made two Sex and the City references in this blog. I'd apologize, but it will probably happen again, so I'm not really repentful.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I love when people say "OMG"
This morning at church the scripture reading was from Esther, and during the sermon the pastor explained that God isn't mentioned in the book at all, "not even an OMG." It was awesome.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
And the winner is:
My paycheck! Just in time for me to make quarterly income tax payments. . . .
Now we have to go grocery shopping. Yuck.
However, there is a lovely and not expensive service here in the city called FreshDirect, a grocery delivery service. I know. The $5.00 service fee may just be worth not going grocery shopping, a whole new beast in the metropolis.
Now we have to go grocery shopping. Yuck.
However, there is a lovely and not expensive service here in the city called FreshDirect, a grocery delivery service. I know. The $5.00 service fee may just be worth not going grocery shopping, a whole new beast in the metropolis.
Monday, September 21, 2009
The not so amazing race
There are many truly awesome aspects of being a freelance copy editor. Getting paid four to five weeks after completion of a project is not one of them. Most of the time this isn't an issue, and most of the time payment arrives in three to four weeks. This month? Not so much. It's a day into week five and still no paycheck. The month I move to NYC. This is making it interesting. My bank account reads $0.00 and we're running out of groceries. Payment is coming, but will it beat our consumption?
A can of soup, three pieces of bread, three eggs, a stick of butter, a can of refried beans, pancake mix, a box of macaroni and cheese, half a box of penne, quarter bottle of pasta sauce, two frozen hamburgers, six slices of cheese, peanut butter, jelly, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and two end pieces of Italian bread. We ate pancakes tonight.
We can definitely survive a week on this. It just becomes an issue when we have pb&j but no bread, pasta but no sauce, and the like. It's a sitcomish situation for sure. Well, if we were funny and interesting and attractive and had an apartment big enough to accomodate multiple characters at once, it would be sitcomish. Actually, I should speak for myself. My husband is hot, funny, and smart (we are in this city so he can go to Columbia's Teachers College after all), so if it weren't for my lack of all things appealing our situation could be compared to a sitcom.
This isn't a plea for sympathy or even for funds - it was our decision to move to the big city. I also have credit cards (on which March's gloriously frivolous train trip across the country were charged), so we won't starve. It just seems super silly to swipe the plastic under the circumstances. A can of refried beans is totally a meal. I'll keep you posted, sports fans.
A can of soup, three pieces of bread, three eggs, a stick of butter, a can of refried beans, pancake mix, a box of macaroni and cheese, half a box of penne, quarter bottle of pasta sauce, two frozen hamburgers, six slices of cheese, peanut butter, jelly, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and two end pieces of Italian bread. We ate pancakes tonight.
We can definitely survive a week on this. It just becomes an issue when we have pb&j but no bread, pasta but no sauce, and the like. It's a sitcomish situation for sure. Well, if we were funny and interesting and attractive and had an apartment big enough to accomodate multiple characters at once, it would be sitcomish. Actually, I should speak for myself. My husband is hot, funny, and smart (we are in this city so he can go to Columbia's Teachers College after all), so if it weren't for my lack of all things appealing our situation could be compared to a sitcom.
This isn't a plea for sympathy or even for funds - it was our decision to move to the big city. I also have credit cards (on which March's gloriously frivolous train trip across the country were charged), so we won't starve. It just seems super silly to swipe the plastic under the circumstances. A can of refried beans is totally a meal. I'll keep you posted, sports fans.
Three weeks and three days
Is how long we have lived in New York City. Our camera has been broken since July, so we haven't been able to take and share pictures of our new home. We're waiting on some funds, then we'll be taking our camera to the shop, where it can hopefully be fixed. I really like our new apartment, and not just because it's in New York City.
To quote my friend Joe, who moved down here a few years ago, "EVERYONE seems to have a gold egg-laying goose but you." This statement is true. As two bumpkins in the big city we went out and about a lot when we first got here. Nothing we did was expensive, but even the cheap food and the subway rides add up after awhile. As does buying groceries and toilet paper.
We're very slowly falling into a routine, which is helping us feel more at home. More than most people, because I'm more uptight than most people, I need routine and structure. I've had a lot of work, which is a good thing not just for the wallet but for my need to be doing something seemingly purposeful.
I've also been attending church at St. Paul and St. Andrew United Methodist. Church and United Methodists also make it feel more like home. I like the church. Tim has work study on Sunday mornings, so I go to services by myself. For some reason this makes me feel like I stick out more. This is because I'm egotistic. I think people care about me more than they do, so really the cure to my nervousness would be for me to get over myself. I'll work on it.
Tim's the captain of an intramural soccer league, is student teaching at Manhattan Country School, and likes his classes and advisor. We've made some friends in our building and in the social studies department, and thank God for our friend Eric who went out of his way to make us feel welcome in the city. And contrary to popular insult, people in NYC have been nice, helpful, and caring. Our first week here I saw a dude help a girl carry her large suitcase up a flight of subway stairs. Because I've been trained so well, I thought, "He's going to take off with that suitcase the second he hits the sidewalk." He didn't.
I'm looking forward to using my student ID for free admission into museums, to taking advantage of student rush tickets and reduced-price Teachers College tickets for Broadway, to standing outside at the Early Show because I love Harry Smith, to the free Counting Crows concert in Central Park this Wednesday (and subsequent free concerts in the park and wherever else), and to parades and festivals and people watching. I don't want to live in New York City and ever feel like I wasted my time.
To quote my friend Joe, who moved down here a few years ago, "EVERYONE seems to have a gold egg-laying goose but you." This statement is true. As two bumpkins in the big city we went out and about a lot when we first got here. Nothing we did was expensive, but even the cheap food and the subway rides add up after awhile. As does buying groceries and toilet paper.
We're very slowly falling into a routine, which is helping us feel more at home. More than most people, because I'm more uptight than most people, I need routine and structure. I've had a lot of work, which is a good thing not just for the wallet but for my need to be doing something seemingly purposeful.
I've also been attending church at St. Paul and St. Andrew United Methodist. Church and United Methodists also make it feel more like home. I like the church. Tim has work study on Sunday mornings, so I go to services by myself. For some reason this makes me feel like I stick out more. This is because I'm egotistic. I think people care about me more than they do, so really the cure to my nervousness would be for me to get over myself. I'll work on it.
Tim's the captain of an intramural soccer league, is student teaching at Manhattan Country School, and likes his classes and advisor. We've made some friends in our building and in the social studies department, and thank God for our friend Eric who went out of his way to make us feel welcome in the city. And contrary to popular insult, people in NYC have been nice, helpful, and caring. Our first week here I saw a dude help a girl carry her large suitcase up a flight of subway stairs. Because I've been trained so well, I thought, "He's going to take off with that suitcase the second he hits the sidewalk." He didn't.
I'm looking forward to using my student ID for free admission into museums, to taking advantage of student rush tickets and reduced-price Teachers College tickets for Broadway, to standing outside at the Early Show because I love Harry Smith, to the free Counting Crows concert in Central Park this Wednesday (and subsequent free concerts in the park and wherever else), and to parades and festivals and people watching. I don't want to live in New York City and ever feel like I wasted my time.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
You think you are, but you're not
Some people think it's cute to correct other people's grammar and writing. Don't. (A few people in certain occupations are exempt from this directive. It's most likely not you.) Your desired outcome of sounding smart will backfire when you in fact make yourself look not smart by being wrong. If you can't help yourself, check the Chicago Manual of Style first. And I can't promise that even doing this will make you as cute as you think you are.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Packing up
We're packing up to move out of the apartment we've lived in for three years. Much more than not is going into storage since our NYC apartment will be half the size of our current space. We've been spoiled with the amount of space we've had, and, as they say, we've managed to fill it with stuff. We'll be in the city for certain for a year, then we'll determine what happens with all of our stuff after that. It's too much to decide what to take and what to leave without needing to determine what among the stuff staying will be sold/donated. We'll deal with that later.
In our current apartment we have an office. I know. In our NYC apartment the living room will also be doubling as a dining room and office. I'm doing my best to follow Thoreau's advice of simplify, simplify, simplify (though moving to a big city may not have been his first step). I spent the day today organizing my desk, which, beginning Friday, will constitute my office. Next up, books. Oh boy.
In our current apartment we have an office. I know. In our NYC apartment the living room will also be doubling as a dining room and office. I'm doing my best to follow Thoreau's advice of simplify, simplify, simplify (though moving to a big city may not have been his first step). I spent the day today organizing my desk, which, beginning Friday, will constitute my office. Next up, books. Oh boy.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Disney Marathon
So the Disney Marathon is going to be really expensive. I haven't registered yet. I'm going to see what living in New York City is like for a bit before I plop down the money/swipe the credit card. I realize I have the rest of my life to run a marathon and that it doesn't need to be this January, but I just don't want to keep putting it off until it becomes something I simply forgo. I'm for sure running the Lake Placid half marathon again. Maybe I'll just do the whole marathon? I'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
United Methodists and health care
"We encourage individuals to pursue a healthy lifestyle and . . . also recognize the role of governments in ensuring that each individual has access to those elements necessary to good health." (Social Principles, ¶162T)
In case you were wondering.
The John 10:10 Challenge.
In case you were wondering.
The John 10:10 Challenge.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
2:18
The half marathon is finished. I'm so glad I did it. Some thoughts:
Before the Run
The Lake Placid marathon was very well organized. Granted, this is the first marathon/half marathon I have participated in, but I still feel sufficiently capable of judging that it was well put together. It allowed the runners the freedom to worry only about the running. Which I did. A lot. I stressed a bit about eating just the right food and about not injuring myself in a stupid manner before the race. I worried about not knowing the course and about getting lost, and I worried a lot about the weather (which went from sunny and 70s to imminent rain and high 50s to sunny and mid-60s on race morning - yay mountains!). I worried about not being able to finish the race. I was really, really nervous the morning of the race. It was hard to eat. But I managed half a bagel with peanut butter, a quarter of a banana, and a quarter of a Cliff's bar. This turned out to be, like the weather, just about perfect. I also drank some OJ and a lot of water, and 15 minutes before the race shot some infamous goo into my mouth. It was Clif Shot energy gel, 90% organic and all natural, with 50 mg of caffeine. Tim, knowing me so well, bought this for me in mocha flavor. Expecting the worst, this stuff tasted good, like thick, earthy chocolate syrup. I recommend it. Make sure to drink water after you use it (mostly to get it off of your teeth).
The Run
I must have looked at the course map one thousand times, but I could have ran the course blindfolded and fellow runners and marathon volunteers would have got me where I needed to be. The course itself was beautiful - through Olympic Village/downtown Lake Placid, around Mirror Lake, down to the ski jumps, out River Road (with farms, fields, a creek, and the Adirondacks in the background), and back. I heard more than one runner say "this is the prettiest marathon you'll ever run." I also heard, after running downhill, "We have to run back up that?" Yes, yes we did. Lake Placid is in the Adirondacks, after all, so it was a rolling course. It really wasn't that bad - honestly - I do not particularly enjoy running hills. You start on Main Street and head up the hill toward Mirror Lake. I made sure to stand toward the back of the start line to allow those faster-than-10-minute-mile runners to start ahead of me. However, I must have overcompensated because I ended up running around a bunch of people walking up the first hill. Next year I'll start closer to the middle. At mile 1 we all did a little cheer. "Yay mile 1!" Runners were snapping photos with their cell phones all around the lake. As the miles added up I was surprised at how good I was still feeling. I stopped and walked at all aid stations except the first one (it was crowded) to have water and then Gatorade. This helped mentally and physically. At mile 7 I ate some more goo. Not many spectators made it out to the River Road leg, but that's okay. Running for me is a solitary sport, on purpose. Many, many "Team in Training" runners participated (raising $890,000 for the Lukemia and Lymphona Society), so "Team in Training" coaches cycled out on the course cheering runners on. Also, since River Road was an out-and-back, runners ran on both sides of the road in both directions, cheering one another on periodically.
It wasn't until about mile 10 that I started thinking, I'm ready to be done. When running I count the miles backward, so mile 10 was really "3 miles to go." I started walking a little bit before and after the aid stations then, and then for a section of the final, steep hill. At mile 12 I said a silent good-bye to the people I had been running with as some went ahead of me and some fell behind. As you approach the end, which is the Olympic speed-skating oval, you can hear the crowds cheering and the announcers announcing. It's a perfect way to end the race. You make it up the hill and onto the track, run a loop, and cross the finish line as the announcer announces your name and where you are from. They place a medal on your neck, then you keep walking until your heart stops racing and your legs feel like they may be able to do something other than run.
After the Run
After walking a bit with Tim, I found a patch of grass in the shade from a tent and laid down. The grass was still wet from the night before. I immediately thanked God, for just about everything. After a minute, Tim helped me up and I went and signed up for my free massage. I got some free pizza, free ice cream, went to the final hill and cheered runners on, got my massage, went to the Lake Placid Pub and Brewery, and rode home. I will be running this again on June 13, 2010. If you have ever thought about running a marathon or half marathon, do it in Lake Placid. Just train some hills, and in the rain every now and then, just in case.
Next Up
I'm giving myself until Monday to decide officially, but next up is the Disney Marathon on January 10 in Orlando. This is a fun, laid-back marathon, so I hear, and since I will never be winning a marathon this suits me well. You run through every park in Disney World in Orlando, only one of which I've ever actually been to, and even through Cinderella's castle. Since it is a marathon, it is taken seriously and Disney caters to runners and runners needs over the weekend, which is also good to hear. And it's a flat course! And Mickey and co. cheer you on. Bring on the Disney Princes!
If I decide to do this, training begins September 14. The idea of running 20 miles, ultimately, for fun sounds a little nuts to me, but as it turns out I like being a little nuts. I like a little better who I am while I'm training - focused, purposed, healthy in practice and diet (for the most part), and contemplative. My feet are a little ugly, but my legs make up for it :-) As I stood in the start-line crowd Sunday and looked around, listened to conversations, I realized that these are my people. Like fellow Allegheny students, Buffalo Bills fans, United Methodists, runners are now a sect of people among whom I can say, despite and because of their assets and faults, Yup, these are my people. I will never be their leader, but I am a runner.
Before the Run
The Lake Placid marathon was very well organized. Granted, this is the first marathon/half marathon I have participated in, but I still feel sufficiently capable of judging that it was well put together. It allowed the runners the freedom to worry only about the running. Which I did. A lot. I stressed a bit about eating just the right food and about not injuring myself in a stupid manner before the race. I worried about not knowing the course and about getting lost, and I worried a lot about the weather (which went from sunny and 70s to imminent rain and high 50s to sunny and mid-60s on race morning - yay mountains!). I worried about not being able to finish the race. I was really, really nervous the morning of the race. It was hard to eat. But I managed half a bagel with peanut butter, a quarter of a banana, and a quarter of a Cliff's bar. This turned out to be, like the weather, just about perfect. I also drank some OJ and a lot of water, and 15 minutes before the race shot some infamous goo into my mouth. It was Clif Shot energy gel, 90% organic and all natural, with 50 mg of caffeine. Tim, knowing me so well, bought this for me in mocha flavor. Expecting the worst, this stuff tasted good, like thick, earthy chocolate syrup. I recommend it. Make sure to drink water after you use it (mostly to get it off of your teeth).
The Run
I must have looked at the course map one thousand times, but I could have ran the course blindfolded and fellow runners and marathon volunteers would have got me where I needed to be. The course itself was beautiful - through Olympic Village/downtown Lake Placid, around Mirror Lake, down to the ski jumps, out River Road (with farms, fields, a creek, and the Adirondacks in the background), and back. I heard more than one runner say "this is the prettiest marathon you'll ever run." I also heard, after running downhill, "We have to run back up that?" Yes, yes we did. Lake Placid is in the Adirondacks, after all, so it was a rolling course. It really wasn't that bad - honestly - I do not particularly enjoy running hills. You start on Main Street and head up the hill toward Mirror Lake. I made sure to stand toward the back of the start line to allow those faster-than-10-minute-mile runners to start ahead of me. However, I must have overcompensated because I ended up running around a bunch of people walking up the first hill. Next year I'll start closer to the middle. At mile 1 we all did a little cheer. "Yay mile 1!" Runners were snapping photos with their cell phones all around the lake. As the miles added up I was surprised at how good I was still feeling. I stopped and walked at all aid stations except the first one (it was crowded) to have water and then Gatorade. This helped mentally and physically. At mile 7 I ate some more goo. Not many spectators made it out to the River Road leg, but that's okay. Running for me is a solitary sport, on purpose. Many, many "Team in Training" runners participated (raising $890,000 for the Lukemia and Lymphona Society), so "Team in Training" coaches cycled out on the course cheering runners on. Also, since River Road was an out-and-back, runners ran on both sides of the road in both directions, cheering one another on periodically.
It wasn't until about mile 10 that I started thinking, I'm ready to be done. When running I count the miles backward, so mile 10 was really "3 miles to go." I started walking a little bit before and after the aid stations then, and then for a section of the final, steep hill. At mile 12 I said a silent good-bye to the people I had been running with as some went ahead of me and some fell behind. As you approach the end, which is the Olympic speed-skating oval, you can hear the crowds cheering and the announcers announcing. It's a perfect way to end the race. You make it up the hill and onto the track, run a loop, and cross the finish line as the announcer announces your name and where you are from. They place a medal on your neck, then you keep walking until your heart stops racing and your legs feel like they may be able to do something other than run.
After the Run
After walking a bit with Tim, I found a patch of grass in the shade from a tent and laid down. The grass was still wet from the night before. I immediately thanked God, for just about everything. After a minute, Tim helped me up and I went and signed up for my free massage. I got some free pizza, free ice cream, went to the final hill and cheered runners on, got my massage, went to the Lake Placid Pub and Brewery, and rode home. I will be running this again on June 13, 2010. If you have ever thought about running a marathon or half marathon, do it in Lake Placid. Just train some hills, and in the rain every now and then, just in case.
Next Up
I'm giving myself until Monday to decide officially, but next up is the Disney Marathon on January 10 in Orlando. This is a fun, laid-back marathon, so I hear, and since I will never be winning a marathon this suits me well. You run through every park in Disney World in Orlando, only one of which I've ever actually been to, and even through Cinderella's castle. Since it is a marathon, it is taken seriously and Disney caters to runners and runners needs over the weekend, which is also good to hear. And it's a flat course! And Mickey and co. cheer you on. Bring on the Disney Princes!
If I decide to do this, training begins September 14. The idea of running 20 miles, ultimately, for fun sounds a little nuts to me, but as it turns out I like being a little nuts. I like a little better who I am while I'm training - focused, purposed, healthy in practice and diet (for the most part), and contemplative. My feet are a little ugly, but my legs make up for it :-) As I stood in the start-line crowd Sunday and looked around, listened to conversations, I realized that these are my people. Like fellow Allegheny students, Buffalo Bills fans, United Methodists, runners are now a sect of people among whom I can say, despite and because of their assets and faults, Yup, these are my people. I will never be their leader, but I am a runner.
Straight Girl Secret #17*
When given the choice between the needy, neurotic girl and the cool, fun-to-be-with girl, a boy will choose to date the needy, neurotic girl. On more than one occasion he will say to cool girl, "I wish my girlfriend were more like you," but he will never leave NN girl for cool girl. In fact, if this boy is spending time with cool girl, it is most likely to make NN girl angry and more NN. He will tell cool girl, and maybe even himself, that it is just because he needs a break from his girlfriend, but this is not the truth.
So, if you are a cool girl, you have a few options to avoid being used. You can choose one or more of the following:
1. Tell boy exactly how you feel about his girlfriend and then stop spending time with him.
2. Call him out on his behavior, especially if in the past he's said he does not like needy girls, which he has likely said on more than one occasion, and then stop spending time with him.
3. Start acting needy and neurotic yourself.
The outcome of this situation if you choose options 1 or 2 will be the following:
1. He will eventually leave his girlfriend and you two can be friends again (be prepared for the obligatory ex-girlfriend phone calls, notes, threats, etc.)
2. You will be invited to their wedding, to which you will bring a gift that was not on their registry and that you know only he will like, and then you will never see him again.
So as you can see, it's much better to be the needy, neurotic girl.
If you are already the needy, neurotic girl: Well played, my friend, well played.
*If you've found yourself a secure man and you want to be with him for longer than a week, unrealistic demands, using sex as punishment and reward, and daily tests of love in which the rules are always changing, are not the glue. Honesty and communication work much better in this situation. So boring.
So, if you are a cool girl, you have a few options to avoid being used. You can choose one or more of the following:
1. Tell boy exactly how you feel about his girlfriend and then stop spending time with him.
2. Call him out on his behavior, especially if in the past he's said he does not like needy girls, which he has likely said on more than one occasion, and then stop spending time with him.
3. Start acting needy and neurotic yourself.
The outcome of this situation if you choose options 1 or 2 will be the following:
1. He will eventually leave his girlfriend and you two can be friends again (be prepared for the obligatory ex-girlfriend phone calls, notes, threats, etc.)
2. You will be invited to their wedding, to which you will bring a gift that was not on their registry and that you know only he will like, and then you will never see him again.
So as you can see, it's much better to be the needy, neurotic girl.
If you are already the needy, neurotic girl: Well played, my friend, well played.
*If you've found yourself a secure man and you want to be with him for longer than a week, unrealistic demands, using sex as punishment and reward, and daily tests of love in which the rules are always changing, are not the glue. Honesty and communication work much better in this situation. So boring.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Straight Girl Trick #5824*
Suggest "seeing other people" only if you are currently dating someone you know will not see other people. That way, you have a fall-back for when you are alone on a holiday/birthday or are feeling lonely or need a crutch in social situations. Bonus: you never need to reciprocate. In this situation you also have a go-to for when you are feeling unloved and need a self-esteem boost.
Since this boy still wants to be with only you, in his head and heart he'll believe that if he sticks this through he'll "get" you back. You and I know this isn't true, that you'll date him again only if you get desperate since "seeing other people" is just a code phrase for "keeping you around until I find somebody better," but he never needs to know this.
Inevitably, he'll begin to drift away, pay attention to other girls, maybe even catch on to your game. Here are some tips to help delay this:
1. Send random yet often text messages about something you saw/heard that made you think of him.
2. Leave "thinking of you" posts on his Facebook wall or comment often on his posts.
3. Wear clothes you know he likes to see you in when using/seeing him.
4. Bring up as many "remember when we" comments in conversations with him as possible.
5. Invite him out on "dates" or over to your place to hang out. Of course these are not really dates. You want to maintain your, um, friendship. It's very important to you.
6. After these dates, if you are looking for some nooky or REALLY want to keep him hooked, have some nooky.
If he's a giver, which he likely is if he's still around, while completing steps 1-6 make him believe the door is still open a bit by talking about how you are confused by your feelings for him and need some time to figure it out.
Worst case scenario: He starts to actually see other people. When this happens, call him and tell him you want to get back together. Then, if you do get back together, just date for a bit and repeat this cycle. If he chooses the other girl, call a little later and lay it on really thick. Maybe even mention that you wanted to marry him (especially if he has brought up marriage in the past). Then, if you get back together, just date for a bit and repeat this cycle. Unless you've already found another boy to fill this role. If so, you know the drill.
So go get him girl, you deserve this one-way relationship. After all, it's not your fault he still loves you (or is it? wink, wink).
*If you are concerned with being a decent and unhorrible person, you may want to ignore this advice.
Since this boy still wants to be with only you, in his head and heart he'll believe that if he sticks this through he'll "get" you back. You and I know this isn't true, that you'll date him again only if you get desperate since "seeing other people" is just a code phrase for "keeping you around until I find somebody better," but he never needs to know this.
Inevitably, he'll begin to drift away, pay attention to other girls, maybe even catch on to your game. Here are some tips to help delay this:
1. Send random yet often text messages about something you saw/heard that made you think of him.
2. Leave "thinking of you" posts on his Facebook wall or comment often on his posts.
3. Wear clothes you know he likes to see you in when using/seeing him.
4. Bring up as many "remember when we" comments in conversations with him as possible.
5. Invite him out on "dates" or over to your place to hang out. Of course these are not really dates. You want to maintain your, um, friendship. It's very important to you.
6. After these dates, if you are looking for some nooky or REALLY want to keep him hooked, have some nooky.
If he's a giver, which he likely is if he's still around, while completing steps 1-6 make him believe the door is still open a bit by talking about how you are confused by your feelings for him and need some time to figure it out.
Worst case scenario: He starts to actually see other people. When this happens, call him and tell him you want to get back together. Then, if you do get back together, just date for a bit and repeat this cycle. If he chooses the other girl, call a little later and lay it on really thick. Maybe even mention that you wanted to marry him (especially if he has brought up marriage in the past). Then, if you get back together, just date for a bit and repeat this cycle. Unless you've already found another boy to fill this role. If so, you know the drill.
So go get him girl, you deserve this one-way relationship. After all, it's not your fault he still loves you (or is it? wink, wink).
*If you are concerned with being a decent and unhorrible person, you may want to ignore this advice.
A report.
I didn't screw up my reading parts, and in fact spoke once in front of the entire conference and was (1) nervous for about half of the usual time and (2) didn't read the script while at the podium and still got all of the information in without adding any extra crap. I realize this report would be more cute (or cute at all) if I were 14, but, oh well. Late bloomer.
Grace achieved = about 80% of my ideal. Much better than I expected. I did lose some of that grace once home on Saturday night. Baby steps I guess.
Grace achieved = about 80% of my ideal. Much better than I expected. I did lose some of that grace once home on Saturday night. Baby steps I guess.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
A goal.
Grace.
What little grace I have is always tested at Annual Conference. Thankfully, it is also always heartened. May the latter outweigh the former. (Partly for your sake, but mostly for mine.)
What little grace I have is always tested at Annual Conference. Thankfully, it is also always heartened. May the latter outweigh the former. (Partly for your sake, but mostly for mine.)
A confession.
I do not like to speak in front of people. As much as I love to run my mouth I love it in the comfort of groups - at the dinner table, at a book study, yelling at a baseball game - or, even better, in writing. I could write a brilliant sermon and ruin it by trying to preach it. I could yell from a soapbox on the street corner but then hop down and run away when someone stops to actually listen. If I were a Shakespearean hero, my fear of speaking would be my tragic flaw. I would have insights to share, injustices to make known, prophecies to tell, but the world would never hear them because I was too afraid.
Rest assured, however, that you aren't missing any life-changing wisdom from my fear of speaking. And if you think you are, just read this blog. I know those of you who know me in real life probably find this fear incongruent with the amount of information I feel it necessary to share using my mouth, but it's true. I get up in front of a crowd and I get nervous, as most people do I suppose, but so debilitatingly nervous that I have trouble forming words. It's frustrating, totally not cute, and a little annoying. I'm too old for this crap.
Because I am so self-aware and smart, I've volunteered to read during two worship services at Annual Conference tomorrow. In front of a lot of people. But since it's reading, I may not screw it up. We'll see.
Rest assured, however, that you aren't missing any life-changing wisdom from my fear of speaking. And if you think you are, just read this blog. I know those of you who know me in real life probably find this fear incongruent with the amount of information I feel it necessary to share using my mouth, but it's true. I get up in front of a crowd and I get nervous, as most people do I suppose, but so debilitatingly nervous that I have trouble forming words. It's frustrating, totally not cute, and a little annoying. I'm too old for this crap.
Because I am so self-aware and smart, I've volunteered to read during two worship services at Annual Conference tomorrow. In front of a lot of people. But since it's reading, I may not screw it up. We'll see.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Harvey's Playbook: Let's Use It
Last month I watch the movie Milk. Having worked at a publishing company that among its specialties included gay and lesbian issues, I edited many books and articles on the subject, so I was familiar with the man and meaning of Harvey Milk. One of Harvey's strategies for advancing gay and lesbian rights was a plea to every gay person to come out of the closet, for every gay person to live openly and unashamed (since "hiding" only confirmed its shamefulness in society's eyes).
What if the pastors of the United Methodist Church did this? What if every gay clergy member came out and forced the Church to "defrock" them?
I am a straight layperson, so I cannot and will not make this plea. If all copy editors could be copy editors only if they had blue eyes, would I take out my tinted contacts to reveal my brown eyes? Until I'm put in a similar situation, I will not be the one to tell gay pastors to come out. But I will ask you - everyone - to think, what if? Whatever the number, the United Methodist church would lose a lot of great pastors, because being openly gay based on our discipline means you cannot serve as pastor. Voters at General Conference would be moved by awareness, the awareness and truth that helps erase fear. My goal in any of my arguments is not a boycott of the United Methodist Church; I want the United Methodist Church to recognize the error of our embarrassing "don't ask don't tell" policy, to, based on our belief in Jesus and God, allow gays and lesbians the same chance as straight people to become ordained and local pastors and deacons.
The Bible is full of human wisdom and examples of God's love. It's also full of outdated advice and laws applicable only to the time and place in which they were written. We do a great disservice to the writers of the Bible and God when we pretend otherwise. This includes the issue of homosexuality.
Now I want you to imagine the day the first openly gay person becomes an ordained minister. If this scares you, I want you to think about why. You'll recognize it is a problem within yourself and only within yourself - which is okay; you'll get over it. Those of you who feel like I do, know that it will be kind of awesome.
I don't feel this way or argue for gay rights, gay marriage, gay clergy to piss Christians off. I do it because I am a Christian, and can't, based on my beliefs, imagine feeling any other way.
What if the pastors of the United Methodist Church did this? What if every gay clergy member came out and forced the Church to "defrock" them?
I am a straight layperson, so I cannot and will not make this plea. If all copy editors could be copy editors only if they had blue eyes, would I take out my tinted contacts to reveal my brown eyes? Until I'm put in a similar situation, I will not be the one to tell gay pastors to come out. But I will ask you - everyone - to think, what if? Whatever the number, the United Methodist church would lose a lot of great pastors, because being openly gay based on our discipline means you cannot serve as pastor. Voters at General Conference would be moved by awareness, the awareness and truth that helps erase fear. My goal in any of my arguments is not a boycott of the United Methodist Church; I want the United Methodist Church to recognize the error of our embarrassing "don't ask don't tell" policy, to, based on our belief in Jesus and God, allow gays and lesbians the same chance as straight people to become ordained and local pastors and deacons.
The Bible is full of human wisdom and examples of God's love. It's also full of outdated advice and laws applicable only to the time and place in which they were written. We do a great disservice to the writers of the Bible and God when we pretend otherwise. This includes the issue of homosexuality.
Now I want you to imagine the day the first openly gay person becomes an ordained minister. If this scares you, I want you to think about why. You'll recognize it is a problem within yourself and only within yourself - which is okay; you'll get over it. Those of you who feel like I do, know that it will be kind of awesome.
I don't feel this way or argue for gay rights, gay marriage, gay clergy to piss Christians off. I do it because I am a Christian, and can't, based on my beliefs, imagine feeling any other way.
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