The Gray Area

Better Boyfriend 101: Love. Delusion. And a Cautionary Tale.

2012-02-11T14:37:00.000-05:00

So, I am, admittedly, not exactly fair and balanced when it comes to relational analyses. My best friends are mostly women. And, after one too many bad breakup cries, it's easy to see the guy collective as being evil (not exactly the most self serving position, but truthful), and women as being made of sugar, spice, etc. Anyway, as a way of bringing a touch of balance to the Better Boyfriend series, we will have a guest lecture on the dark side of girlhood, written by Jessica...who does not (thankfully) exemplify the traits being satirized.

Satire onGirls

           Girlsare the most pleasant beings on earth. They are perfect angels at every momentof each and every day. NOT! More like, girls are manipulative evilspirits who take control and get away with everything. Let us go throughthe dating process.
           Girlsmanipulate guys. A girl will get all dressed up for school with her shortskirt and low cut shirt to get some poor unassuming guy’s attention. Once there, she will walk around flaunting everything that she has (or lacks).When she finally sees the Guy, she makes eye contact, flutters hereyelashes, and does the “hair flip.” After she has gotten his attention afew times, she will, casually, start a conversation with him, which ends with himasking her out on Friday night. In the aftermath, the guy ends upstanding there bewildered having no idea what just happened.
           Thedate has arrived, and so has her date. “Oh, my gosh, I’m not ready yet. I’m sorry. Can you wait here for a few moments Guy?”

Girlstake an eternity to get ready. First, she has to shower,which in itself can take twenty minutes or more because she must shave, wash,and do her hair. Then, she has to get dressed. This can take anadditional hour because she gets lost in her closet, which some may say isequivalent to being lost in the jungle. “I have nothing to wear”, is acommon statement made by one who has two closets for her dress clothes, adresser for casual clothes, and a whole other closet just for her shoes. Having nothing to wear is the most obvious answer in this situation. After that, she has to do her hair and make-up.

By the time she is ready to walk out the door, her date issleeping and she says, “Aren’t you ready? We have to get going,” fullyaware that her date had been waiting for two and half hours for her to beready.
Shestares disdainfully at the handle, waiting for him to open the car door for her.As he hustles back around to her side of the car, the conversation begins:
Guy: Where would you like to eat this evening?
Girl: I don’t’ care. You pick
Guy: How about [Mexican restaurant]?
Girl: Ooo, I don’t like Mexican.
Man: How about [American restaurant]?
Girl: That place has terrible service.
Man: How about [Italian restaurant here]?
Girl: Are you serious? You like that place?
Man: …

Now he’s stuck because hereally does like that restaurant, but does not want to look dumb in front ofher. So he offers more restaurants, and finally asks her again where she wantsto go. She still tells him, “I don’t care.” Finally, after twenty minutesof blind guessing, he picks the correct restaurant, and they’re off..
Theywalk into the restaurant, and she sees her Rival. Rival is the girl that likes Guyand has been after him for some time, but was too slow to get him. “I gothim first,” she thinks, “maybe, we should just leave. I don’t want Rivalto steal my trophy.” Instead, she changes her mind and her attitude anddecides to make Rival jealous. Making eye contact with Rival, she grabsher date’s arm, ensuring their passion is noticeable Once in theirbooth, she sits next to him, so they can make-out if needed. This gamecontinues throughout the evening, giving Guy the impression that he has it made. In her mind, the date is just a battleground.

“Good,” she thinks, “Rival knows that this is my man, and shecan’t have him.”
           Atthe end of the evening, the poor guy drives her home thinking he willdefinitely score the goodnight kiss. She again tries to will him to open thedoor. Instead, he leans over and tries to kiss her. Horrified, she boltsfrom the car, slamming the door in his face. Dazed and confused Guy stumblesout of the car and into the line of fire. “What kind of girl do you think I am?!?”Her indignant glare chills him to the core, “Do you think I’d make-out on thefirst date?” He does not know how to respond and stares, puzzled, thinking, “Shewas all over me at the restaurant...all I wanted to do was kiss her goodnight.” The girl stomps off, not believing what just happened. What would makehim think she’s that kind of girl?
           Thenext day at school, she catches Rival with Guy (He figured there was no chanceof a second date so, whatever). She walks over to Rival and starts anargument with her because Guy is hers. He tries to protest saying that he isnot anyone’s, But, in the string of bad language and big attitudes, there’s nota lot of room for his thoughts. Guy leaves unnoticed, and the girls continueuntil the bell rings. She and Rival part ways, plotting escalation.
           Girlsare catty, hold grudges and torment one another in subtle and treacherous ways.While guys fight and it is over with, girls scheme and try to getback at one another evilly. This particular grudge match had beengoing on for over a week now between the girl and Rival. Finally, in awell executed coup, the girl bought a red slushy and dumped it on Rival’s whiteclothing. (Note for men: Red dye is not easily taken out of clothingespecially white clothes. Plus it can make it look like the girl had anaccident during her “time of month”). This all occurred despite the factthat the guy was totally out of the picture.
          Having been sent to the office, the girls act like angels and pretend nothingat all happened, avoiding the principal or a counselor. After all of thatis finished, they go back to war, until they finally realize that another girlhas “stolen” the Guy. Insta-truce. Rival and the girl become best friends.Now it’s time to team up on the other girl. She is now the enemy.
           Thegames girls play are like a never ending scary movie. One moment they arepleasant and genial, and the next minute they are behind someone, creeping upon them to stab them in the back. Girls are like cats, prowling aroundwaiting for the perfect time to attack. They rub up against someone’s leg andpretend they need someone to care for them, but then they hiss and attack withtheir extended claws.
           Iapologize for the guys out there that do not understand women and why theirattitude changes with the wind. For the most part, they do not understandwhy this happens either; it just does. Girls can be rotten witches with adeadly poison that can be whipped out of their purse whenever needed. Beware.-

Jessica Mazza is a ministry intern with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. She is currently serving the undergrad chapter of Purdue University in Indiana. Follow the tales of her work and life in ministry at her blog: http://jessicamazza3.blogspot.com/

A Gold Star For Church People

2012-02-05T22:37:00.002-05:00

Dear The Church,
Thanks for seeing a real problem, and taking real action.

Slightly antagonistic, as always,

but a touch more optimistic,

MoTheThird

The new Christian abolition movement

By Eric Marrapodi, CNN Belief Blog Co-Editor

Greensboro, North Carolina (CNN) —The truck-stop hooker is no Julia Roberts, the trucker in the cab with her no Richard Gere, and this truck stop off the highway could not be any farther from Beverly Hills, the staging ground for “Pretty Woman.”

The woman sports baggy shorts, a white T-shirt and frizzy hair. Her fat middle-aged pimp sits in a beat up red Honda, watching as his “lot lizard” moves from truck to truck, in broad daylight. If this pimp has a cane it is for substance, not style.

She moves through the parking lot, occasionally opening a cab’s passenger-side door and climbing in.

The trucker and hooker disappear in the back for 10 minutes.

Danielle Mitchell watches from the other end of the parking lot and shakes her head.

“We know from talking to other victims and other agencies that girls are taken to truck stops and they’re actually traded,” she says, sitting in her car, a shiny silver sport utility vehicle, keeping a healthy 50-yard distance from the pimp.

CNN's Belief Blog – all the faith angles to the day's top stories

Mitchell is North Carolina human trafficking manager for World Relief. World Relief is a Christian nonprofit attached to the National Association of Evangelicals and is best known for its efforts to combat global hunger and respond to disasters around the world.

Please continue reading their exciting story at

...http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/02/05/the-new-christian-abolition-movement/

What's in a Name? Labeling

2012-02-01T16:44:00.000-05:00

The other day, my girlfriend was writing in her journal about the way that people label one another. It was an interesting topic and we were sharing on the subject later that day, and about what it does to those who label and are labeled. So, what follows is part musings from her journal, which she graciously shared with me, observations from life and whatnot, and then, of course, my own wit and wisdom(?)

*For my non-spiritual readers: I hope that beyond the god stuff, you can find some value in the thoughts on what labeling is, and what it does to the victim of the label and the person labeling.

~For my readers of various faith traditions: I can only assume you have applicable lessons and warnings in your teachings. Extrapolate as needed.

Labeling: Identifying, Pigeonholing, and Marginalization

God is massive. God has created the laws of the universe, and suspended them at will. Has given us seasons, and art, self-awareness, and intellect. Jesus sat with thieves and hookers. In the twenty first century, I’m pretty sure Jesus would be dining with junkies and politicians.
We must be about God’s business. And God is in the business of attracting people.

OK. That’s awesome. But the people, who say they want to identify with Jesus, spend more time trying to label the people that they are supposed to be serving. As a society, why do we label people? Poor, rich, autistic, black, white, disabled, gifted, and on and on and on. We slap on more labels than a soup company. Sure, sometimes we do it ‘cause we’re really lazy. Calling them, “The 90 degree couple” was easier than saying, “The couple. She has super long straight hair. He has average length black hair. He wears glasses. And they both wear stern expressions.” The label helped cut to the chase.

Being in a small private Christian college, in central Pennsylvania, there was a lot of labeling angst. I’d be with a group of people and one person is trying to describe a mutual acquaintance to those assembled.
“He’s the guy, in the engineering seminar, who is super quiet… He’s sort of tall...? Always waiting in the hall before class...? He always wears UNC blue…? He’s…um…black. Yeah, him. “

So, of course, some of it is just a convenient way to identify people and things. But often, labels are used to highlight those characteristics in others which one finds undesirable, and from which one seeks to be differentiated.
“No Fat Chicks” “God Hates Fags” “I Hate Stupid People”
These glaring examples of having a label, which is born from a single characteristic, contort, grow, and consume, until the world’s identity of this person is tied inexorably to this one thing. As good people, and more so if we call ourselves people of faith, we should be careful with our language. Students with disabilities don’t' want to be labeled as their disability. Do people who are poor want to be labeled as poor or needy? These things are circumstances, not who they are. Just like grace is hard for sin stained humans to accept, Jesus didn’t run around saying, “You wretched sinners are really lucky to have me around. You’d be pretty much screwed if I weren’t here.”

Jesus looked at these people and saw the one, single, solitary important label, “The Image of God.” And he acted on it without fail. And, as a result, crowds of people followed him, and his biggest fans were the people who were the farthest from the “perfect life” to which he called his followers. Conversely, the church ostracizes itself constantly. It’s “Us” evangelizing “Them” and this may be why people don't feel welcome because they feel defined by their circumstances like being divorced or single parenthood, poverty, or even being “unsaved.” These things don’t define a person.

Next time you host a service meal, invite ANYONE to serve, and ANYONE to eat.
When you think of someone’s label before you think of their name, say something nice about that person.
When you’re tempted to drag someone down a “Romans Road” conversation, take a page from Jesus’s playbook. Wipe away his or her tears and say, “go and sin no more.” Then realize that you’re talking to yourself, too.

Shuffle Up & Deal (Euchre)

2012-01-25T14:58:00.002-05:00

Euchre: The Game of Jacks
If you haven’t heard of euchre, you’re not the only one. Regionally it’s largely isolated to Ohio, Michigan, upstate New York, and a random smattering of other regions. It’s not a plant. It’s not an animal. Some may argue that it’s a religion but definitely not in “that” sense of the word. It’s a card game. One I’ve been playing since I can remember.

Throughout high school, I was a principal member in the School of Euchre, teaching those uninitiated few how to euch with the best of them. But in northern Ohio, the people who didn’t already know the drill were few and far between. In central Pennsylvania, however, during undergrad, I spent a lot of time just trying to explain what euchre is. But I made a few disciples along the way. And everybody who was to learn got sent in my direction. I figure, this should make sending them my way easier.

In person, I always like to start with square one. “Do you know the basic order of cards?” Etc. Etc. I’m going to go ahead and assume that you do, and not drag the other children through the remediation of explaining that an Ace is higher than a 9.

Starting Out
Euchre is a turn based, partner game, played with four people. If you’re familiar with, Spades, Bridge, Pinochle, or Rook, then you are ahead of the curve. If not, it basically means you sit opposite your partner and want to win hands by throwing out the highest card in the mix.

For those of us who’ve ever heard, “You’re not playing with a full deck.” Now you’re doing it on purpose. Start by dropping the cards eight and below. So, you’ve got a deck of 24 cards, dealt out in sets of twos and threes. Each player gets 5 cards with 4 cards remaining in what’s called the kitty.

Trump: A Primer
Now we have to decide on trump. When a suit is named trump, any card of that suit outranks any card of a non-trump suit. The highest ranking card in euchre is the Jack of the selected suit (referred to as the right bauer or right), then the other Jack of the same color and opposite suit (left bauer, or left). In descending order thereafter it is A, K, Q, 10, and 9. In non-trump suits (except for the next suit), the jacks are not special, and the cards of those suits rank from high to low as A, K, Q, J, 10, and 9.

Making Trump

So, the dealer turns up the top card of the kitty (The Turn Card), in the center of the table. Now it’s time to make tough choices. And the suit of that card is the first option for trump. The player to the left of the dealer is the first to decide, either “pass,” or “pick it up.” And it progresses clockwise, with the last option to the dealer. If anyone decides to make the suit of the turn card, trump then the dealer gets to keep the turn card.
If, however, no one wants the upturned card’s suit to be trump, the exposed card is turned back down, and in the same clockwise pattern, players are given the chance to call any suit as trump, except the one turned down (don’t be a jerk).

What if, in addition to no one liking the turn card, no one wants to call trump either? Well…those among the ranks of the Eucherests without the constitution for risk, would lead you to believe that the hand is a wash, and the deal just advances without play. REAL euchre players, however, always play “Stick the dealer.” This means that despite anything else, if the turn card is down, and it’s back to the dealer to call, no matter how strong or weak his or her hand is…the dealer must choose trump.

King of diamonds. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. But, are they doing your team any favors?

Left of Dealer. First to act: Two low diamonds and a single off suited Ace. It’s a risky call. Not for the faint of heart, but mavericks would make this call, easy.
We’re going to pass this time.

Next, the partner of the dealer: Two strong trump, but no strong back up. The upshot? keeping the extra trump in the family. A different kind of risky than the first hand, but still a good call. We’ll order up our partner. “Pick it up.”
But let’s keep looking

Dealer’s right: No diamonds no aces. Not only is this not a strong calling hand, this hand pretty much sucks all around.

The dealer has the goods, this hand. With two aces and two jacks this is a balanced partner hand. This is great, because he or she now gets to add the turn card to his or her hand and discard a weaker card of his or her choosing.

Gameplay
So, trump is decided, and play commences.
The player on the left of the dealer leads the first trick. The suit led must be matched by the rest of the players in the hand, provided they have any (Following Suit). If they don’t, all bets are off, and they could throw trump, to try for a win, or a non-trump suit (off) which will automatically lose.

For reference purposes, the card in the middle of the table is the card which was led. The description will identify the winning card. But see if you know which card won, by looking at the pic.

The dealer leads a high and non-trump card, just the way the doctor ordered, hoping to win an early trick. Unfortunately for the leader, the dealer doesn’t have spades, with which to follow suit, and trumps in for the win.

Make it take it. The dealer wins and leads the next trick, high trump to clear out the opposition. And, since his partner called it, show where the power is. The left bauer, the second highest card in the hand goes a long way.

So, now you’ve drawn out one of your opponents trump, and discovered that your other opponent doesn’t even have any. So you’ve got that going for you. You have two aces left and your partner called it. With one opponent lacking trump, and one less heart out there (the jack of hearts became a diamond when that was called) I’m going to lead the Ace of Hearts, and hope that if the bad guy trumps, my partner trumps bigger.

No dice. I guess that call was more debatable than I’d hoped. But now the winner of the trick has only low clubs, so we’re back in the driver’s seat with our Ace of clubs.

And our partner seals the deal with the Right Bauer.

Thus, the hand ends. We’ve taken four tricks and our enemies have taken one. Now the deal advances to the left. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Scoring

Euchre is played to ten points, marked by the counters on a six and a four. Unless you’re in Michigan, then it’s two fives. Or if you’re in upstate New York it’s a two and a three… which makes no sense whatsoever.

So we finished up the hand. All that work for? One point. Anytime a team takes a majority of the five tricks available, that team gets one point. There are a number of ways one can score additional points.

If I’d used my aces a bit better and we’d have taken all five of the tricks, then in addition to the point for the majority, we’d have earned a bonus point for being awesome.

The same is true if your opponents call and you succeed in keeping them from taking their majority (Setting, Euchering).

Going Alone
If you have an amazing hand… Something unstoppable… Or if you are absurdly cavalier, you can go “alone.” Your partner sits out and, if you take all five, it’s worth, not one… not two… but four points to our team.

Oooo…Important point on scoring. If you could follow suit, and fail to? You are guilty of reneging. If you do, it’s worth the max number of points available; so, at least two points and at most four (if the other team was going alone).

A Final Note
As you go out into the world of Euchre, some, who call themselves Euchrests will claim something called “Ace. No face.” Or “Farmer’s Hand.” These are cowardly ways out of playing a weak hand, by re dealing or claiming the kitty. If in their house, accept this with grace. Smile and nod at them. All the while, knowing that you are, by this fact alone a better Euchre player…nay…person, than your opponent. If, however, they are in your house, without hesitation, you should tell them to take that weak garbage somewhere else.

Glossary And Useful Terms Not Yet Mentioned

Bauer- The Jack in the suit of trump (right) and the jack of the opposite suit in the same color (left). The highest cards in any given hand.

Call- Declare trump after all players have passed on the turn card.

Euchred (also Set)- Making trump and not winning a majority of tricks; thus, giving the opponents two points.

Following Suit- Playing the suit which was led, as is required.

Hand- Five tricks upon which points are determined.

In the barn- Having 9 points.

Kitty- Four cards remaining after the hand has been dealt. The top card, of which is the turn card.

Lead- Play the first card of a trick. The player to the dealer’s left and then the winner of each subsequent trick is the leader.

Left Bauer (also Left)- The second highest card in a given hand. The jack of the opposite suit of trump. The left, despite having a different symbol than trump, is treated as though it was that suit. If it is a diamond, whilst hearts are trump, a heart led would draw it out, but not a diamonds.

Opposite (also Next)- The other suit of the same color (diamonds to hearts, clubs to spades).

Order up- Deciding trump by ordering the dealer to pick up the turn card.

Renege- Failing to follow suit, when one has the requisite suit.

Trick- When each player has thrown in their card. 5 tricks = 1 hand.

Trump- The uber suit. The lowest card in trump is higher than the highest card of any other suit.

Set- See Euchered

Stopper- A single trick won to stop the other team from taking all five tricks.

Sweep- Taking all five tricks in a hand, for two points.

Oh, The Places You'll Go

2012-01-24T17:04:00.000-05:00

Change.org|Start an Online Petition »

The students in Mr. Wells’ fourth grade class in Brookline, Massachusetts love The Lorax by Dr. Seuss. They love the story, and they especially love the book’s message that if we don’t start prioritizing the environment, the consequences will be disastrous.

So they were super excited to learn that Universal Studios made The Lorax into a blockbuster animated movie (it comes out in March on Dr. Seuss’ birthday).But when the kids went to the movie’s website, they were crestfallen to see it had no environmental education at all. Nothing about pollution, nothing about trees, just information on how to buy tickets.

“The website is more about making money than helping the planet, and that’s exactly what the book says not to do,” says Georgia, who is 10.

Romance Gone Awry

2012-01-12T16:53:00.000-05:00

February 13, 2011

Dear John,

I neverreally got into Valentine’s Day. All the hype, the drama, the expectation neverturns out to be worth it. Our Valentine’s Day will definitely be remembered. Ilove that you were planning this out so far in advance. In the future, however,you should maybe wait ‘til the event before you purchase flowers. Roses losesomething when their brittle, discolored petals are falling off.

Thelunch date at [crazy popular restaurant] was a brilliant idea. Their seascallops are little bites of sunshine. It was totally weird how they lost yourreservation on the most popular dining out day of the year. The food did smellreally good while we waited…on standby…for two hours. But seriously, who needsa pricey lunch in a clean environment. That fish fillet sandwich really hit thespot.

When you said we were off to seeand afternoon show, I thought you meant matinee in a theater. I think you canunderstand my surprise when we sat in on a film studies class to watch an artmovie. And while I like the art scene as much as the next girl; literally,watching film decay doesn’t exactly ring my bells. For the next big movieouting, you may want to consider something a little more conventional… like, No Strings Attached, I’m just saying.

Dinner wasn’tthat hot either. Nobody likes a whiner… Seriously. When you send your food backfour times on one of the highest volume food days even the most patient serveror manager is bound to get annoyed. If you don’t like what’s on the menu, youshould either go to a different restaurant, or EAT AT HOME. But modifying yourentrée 800 times is the opposite of sexy. And, I know I told you that I enjoythem, but I think the whole thing may have gone better if you hadn’t opted fora bag piper as our serenade option. I honestly don’t think our server heardmost of the things you said, which is kind of a relief.

Weprobably should have called it a night at that point, but hindsight is 20/20. Clubbingisn’t really my scene, but it seemed to get you into a good place. Liquidcourage is a good name for it. The first drink was excellent. Then you startedlapping me. And then, you switched to shots. And then, you bought a shot for thatgirl at the bar, when you thought I wasn’t looking. Then you stood on the stool. Then you yelledat the bartender. Then you bit the bouncer. You’re a grown-assed-man and youBIT SOMEONE!! Which would have been bad enough, if you hadn’t asked me for cabfare after you lost your wallet around the time they were throwing you out. Ican only assume you made it home safely, since you’ve been tweeting, texting,emailing, IMing, drunk dialing, and hung over dialing me since last night.

Thiswould normally be the part where I said we should be friends or something.Let’s just go with “or something” (a.k.a. Total Strangers). It was very unusualto date you. I wish you all the introspection in the world.

Not Joking Around,

Jane

Better Boyfriend 101 (Hand Holding)

2012-01-10T18:48:00.000-05:00

Attention! Attention!
Settle down class. It's time for a quick discussion on touching. Not like Hitch's primer, on breaking the touch barrier. After all, this is a 101 class, not Remedial Boyfriend.

Better Boyfriend 101 (Hand Holding)

Hand holding is one of the basic components of romance. It rates so low on the scale of affectionate contact that it doesn’t get a base. It would be the base line on the way to “kissing?” It’s a little odd how that works. It’s hard to build the relationship without it. But it doesn’t show up nearly as often in established relationships. Anyway, as a consummate people watcher I get to see couples hand in hand all over. During undergrad, there was a couple who was almost famous for their method of clasping. The duo even had a nickname based on their technique, “the 90 degree couple.” Try to picture with me, two people standing approximately two feet apart, separated by almost the exact distance of their collective shoulder-to-elbow span. Because, they’re standing scarecrow style, forearms dangling into a grip knot of fingers, suspended over the sidewalk. Tragic.

Hand holding is a pretty nice thing. It’s an element of closeness available when other such demonstrations of affection aren’t appropriate. It’s a promise of something enduring. Palms of each partner nestled in the hand of the other. Or for the more intimate, there are the intertwined fingers of the passionate. Hand holding is a desire to cherish, each other despite engaging in extraneous activities (walking, TV watching, or even writing). It’s connection despite “whatever.” And it communicates so much to both one’s partner and to the rest of the world.

Is hand holding her leash, whereby she can drag her reticent partner from store to store at the mall? Or a pacifier to silence her during the game? Trying not to lose him in a crowd? Is it a tangible, “I love you?” Or did you just forget that the “Red Rover” game ended. I’m forced to admit that I am in the category of hand holders which includes the hand-kissers who draw circles on the backs of their partner’s hand. Lucky for me, my girlfriend* is, too.

Then there is the hyper jealous partner. Not like normal jealous (“No, you can’t go out alone with your ex”). Or even very jealous (“Was that guy checkin’ you out”). But, he’s the kind of guy whose jealous insecurity oozes out of all of his body language, interposing himself between his hostage… I mean, partner, and the person foolish enough to step in between him and the object of his possession. The dead giveaway is when you see the happy couple charging down the street holding hands. But, holding hands is a terribly flawed way to describe the activity. As opposed to the fingers being lovingly intertwined, or even each hand tucked neatly between the thumb and the forefinger, he’s got her in “The Clamp.” His hand encases her entire hand, thumb included, in a vice grip of possession. Someday, they’ll realize that he doesn’t own her.

Like I said, already, hand holding is a funny thing. It’s an electric shock through your body, the first time that it happens. But when the novelty wears off, people forget that it’s about connecting to your partner. So whether you’ve been dating for two weeks or married for two decades. Take your partners hand, and try a little tenderness. But don’t be vice grip guy.

Share with the class? Why do you hold hands? Why don't you hold hands? What's your most memorable hand holding experience?

*Not pictured

Proper and improper hand-holding demonstration by yours truly and renowned actress, Abbie Getty.

A New Year's Epilogue

2012-01-01T02:34:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year everyone.
I hope the lessons of the past are
feeding the hope of the upcoming year.

My life has been a little chaotic in the past few weeks. As a result I didn't bring the Christmas duel home like I'd wanted to. And I got a few messages from people asking if I really didn't like Christmas. So, I wanted to start off the new year with an open letter to Christmas.

Dear Christmas,

So here's the thing. I don't exactly know where to start. I'll just come out with it. I'm sorry.
I went a little nuts during the whole, "MoTheThird vs. Christmas" thing. I mean, seriously, you're such a big deal and I kinda turned it all the wrong way. Everyone was hopping on the bell-jingling bandwagon, and when I tried to buck the trend, I got a little mean. I took aim at some bits which aren't so awesome, and caught a victim or two in the crossfire...my bad.

'Cause even though Rudolph and Baby It's Cold Outside don't do much to model your finer points, I really do love your music. Even if I haven't popped one of your albums, or you haven't come by the house for months, I'll catch myself singing one of your greatest hits. So, I guess I could have been nicer and maybe toned down the vitriol on the songs.

And really, when it comes down to it, you have a great heart. And in my determination to get caught in the hype, I lost track of that. The very reason people engage in the high impact shopping of "Black Friday" is the faces of the recipients on the lovely morning five weeks later. It may be GIFTS GONE WILD!! But, it's still giving. So thanks for making that happen, too.

From Advent candles, to carol singers, to decorating, to cookies, to staring at the tree with the ones you love, you give us a lot of great things to do, think about, see, and eat. So I really am sorry if I was mean. Thanks a bunch. And drop by next year. I'm not saying I won't give you a hard time. Just know that I mean well. Have a Happy New Year.

Sincerely, and Hopefully,
MoTheThird

P.S. If you get a chance, though, can you work on, "I Saw Mommy..." A young woman I know spent her childhood thinking it was about an affair between the mom and Santa. Even now, I think she gives Santa the stink eye. I'm not sayin'. But I'm just sayin'.

A Christmas Rant

2011-12-25T00:28:00.001-05:00

Okay. So I was over due for a post and over due for a slap in the face of Christmas. Sorry again for falling off the face of the Earth. This is a little piece of a much larger conversation I've had many times. It's now been paired down to a concise bit of vitriol, which is meant to be read aloud. But I goofed around with my equipment and never videoed it. So please, as you peruse the following, read it aloud and preferably with the rushed exasperated tone of someone who has spent thirty minutes in line, who knows there are at least 45 minutes left.

I give you:

MoTheThird vs. Christmas(Round Four):

A Christmas Rant

It’sChristmas time. Okay…So what? Christmas is the epitome of hype. People poutingabout wanting a white holiday, while I’m waiting impatiently in lines too longwith a cart full of things I really can’t afford. As I try to figure out how tosneak out of the back of the auditorium after Billy slash Susy finishes theonly solo I’ll even pretend to care about, if not to go home, at least for asmoke… ‘cause hey, I’m no monster.

Thenthere are the evangelical hoards touting the real meaning of Christmas as theystab their flag on the high holy day and protest the secularization of thebirthday of a world leader who was born in the spring according to, like, everyreal scholar. While the Pagans, like the Native Americans, are standing on theoutside edges of Christmas, blinking dumbly at one another, remindingthemselves that they really were there first.

Butit doesn’t really matter. ‘Cause, on Black Friday, the lady from the First Self-RighteousChurch, who’d spent just a minute too long in the queue, snapped and maced thePagans right out of line. Even though there was a touch of collateral damage.They were probably “CrEasters” anyway, so whatever, “God Wills It!” And Iguess, when it comes down to it, at least they only got maced. It’s not so badwhen you downgrade it from trampled, but when you upgrade it from casualshopping, it becomes a bit more alarming…

Butlet’s get serious for a second. Christmas shopping hasn’t been casualsince…well since black Friday became “Black Friday” in the 1960s. The fact thatI, a reasonable adult, can devolve into a snarling, clawing Neanderthal of abeing, willing to knock over a pensioner and wrestle a package from the handsthe little waif of a housewife who though that her kid was more in need of thecolorful light-up noisemaker than my nephew…her mistake not mine. I make no apologies.

Andtruthfully… the ego-maniacal, over stimulated, socially stunted mini-mes couldprobably stand to have one less gift bursting from beneath their Tree on the 25^th.It could be their little chance to contribute to the financial health of thefamily. Allowing their stress filled caretakers to accumulate that much lessdebt. Magnanimity by abstinence would be the order of the day. But who am Ikidding? This is the USA! And we will not be out indulged (Except maybe by theFrench). I think therefore I am entitled.

Mycart almost involuntarily moves the two new inches in line, when I realize thatif, after Billy slash Susy’s solo, and the requisite standing ovation ofone, I succumb to a coughing fit, peoplewill think I’m being polite when I excuse myself out of the back. I couldprobably suck down two sticks of cancer before people start to think that ifI’m still coughing, I’m probably dying. Which I kind of am, so I guess I shouldquit again for New Year.

MerryFreaking Christmas

Thanksfor the card…but what did you get me?

In the Pursuit of Love

2011-12-16T00:00:00.000-05:00

So,the single romantic twenty-somethings have one question swimming around theirheads. "Will I know the one?" It’s a constant refrain. There are people who pray for their future partners. Others who are on the lookout for their soul mates. A guy I knowprofesses that marriage is a business arrangement yet every time he meets agirl, he’s sure that she’s the next Mrs. G.

Iwish this post was on how to know “the one.” That would be a handy piece ofadvice to offer. But even more than great advice, I love a good story. So whenI heard the story of love across state lines, I figured it’d be a nice one toshare. Happy Anniversary Mel.

Myhusband and I were high school sweethearts. And during that time my mom wasbattling stage four cancer. And so we ended up being split apart before wecould even break up with each other. And we moved away, my family and I. And mymom ended up passing away, when I was sixteen (from cancer). And I, kinda justwent on a drifting adventure of life. And in the meantime, during thatadventure, my husband now, was looking everywhere for me. He had flown todifferent colleges that I was going to. And he just kept barely missing me. Andso, it had been about ten years since we had last seen one another and he foundme on myspace. And after that, it only took two weeks and I knew it was theright thing and we were married and we’ll be married four years on December 16^th. Here in a couple weeks. And we have two beautiful little boys, whoare two and one. We’re really happy. We’re not the most romantic couple…we likefishing, and camping. And that’s our great love story.

Holiday Dinner...ish

2011-12-12T01:37:00.001-05:00

I had every intention of writing another scathing rebuke against Christmas tonight, but then today happened.

I work two days a week at a restaurant (Thank you, student loans). I largely regard the job with ambivalence. On the one hand, "foodies" and all manner of shockingly entitled restaurant patrons can leave servers in doubt as to even basic human empathy. But, by contrast, there are incredible shows of deep human connection occurring every day in restaurants all over. From celebrations, to just generally happy people, the microcosm of food service is quite interesting. And today it was inspirational.

A middle-aged couple finished up dinner, and as I presented their check, they stopped me.

Discreetly indicating an older couple across the aisle, my guests told me that they wanted to pick up the tab for their dinner as well. It was a little amazing. But it gets better. It's not the first time I've had tables pick up tabs for each other: business people for clients, old friends and other connected persons. The magic was that, as far as I can tell, there was no connection between these two couples. I coordinated with the other server, closed the two checks, and watched as the paying couple vanished into the evening like a pair of cobbler's elves, without saying even a word to the beneficiaries of their generosity. "I'm just flabbergasted," the old man told his server when he heard of their good fortune.

The couple left us with a thirty percent tip and a great story which I shared with nearly the entire staff.

"It's a Christmas miracle!" one of my co-workers asserted...

So I guess MoTheThird vs. Christmas(Round Three) goes to Christmas as well.

I'll get you next time Christmas...next time...

Photo Credit: Ryan Jacobs

Trying to Look Cool

2011-12-07T15:25:00.001-05:00

Photo Credit: IndianRain

So, it's most of the way through myfirst year at undergrad in PA. I have no car, and not much of a plan for whatto do over spring break. I had a few places that I could stay "in apinch" but these were last ditch scenarios in my mind. I was killing timein our dorm room as things on campus were winding down. My roommate, Bill, a relative local hadheaded home hours ago, so it was just me and my books, which was fine with me;but didn’t much help my aimless spring break.

However, when youforget to return your RA’s keys on the first day of spring break, it’s kindaimportant that you bring them back. So Bill ended up making the hour plus tripback to campus. And, he traded me for the keys, despite the fact that his momwas in the process of moving into a new house with his younger sister. That’sall another story. And while I was totally unsure about the adventure to come, mycamera and I aren’t going to miss a thing… Click.

So, the next day,we’re in his mom’s new house, sanding the floor of a room, and he gets a phonecall (Click…Click). “Yeah?”… “Maybe”… “I don’t know”… “Myroommate is here and…” “Let me ask him.” At this point, he turns his attentionto me, “Hey man, some of my friends want to hang out tonight. Interested?” Myroommate is rugged and tough, and a little bit awesome. I was a soft-handedbook reader, who listened to classical music, and loved board games. So I didn’teven understand the implication of my favorable response. I just wanted to proveI could hang with him.

“If we go out, it’ll likely beall night.”

“That’s fine,” I replied. Thesocial engager that I am, I often entertain guests all night, also. Only, forme, when I kept people out all night, we’d start with dinner, then a movie,late night coffee shop. If we were still blowin’ and goin’, we’d adjourn tosomeone’s home or an all night diner. That’s what I call hanging out all night.But not them.

When I said “yes,”what followed was a one and a half hour drive to his friend’s house, for thelink up (Click). We putzed around forsecond, then? We got into the car for a three hour drive to the Poconos. Fiveminutes into which… I spilled hot coffee on my crotch. Then things gotchallenging.

Because we weregoing…Camping. (Click). At the end ofthe drive when we parked the car, I thought, “OK. It’s midnight and so coldthat my eyelids hurt when I blink. But we’ve arrived, So, here we camp.” Oh,nay nay! We were are at the trailhead. Now it was time for a hike of a mile andchange, beside a frost slowed stream (Click),on a path consisting of mostly ice. The hill at which we arrived wasn’t exactlya gentle grade. But we finally found our site. And by “we,” and “site,” I mean,“they” and “random outcropping of rock on rock halfway up the hillside, whichwas at least ten degrees colder than the rest of the area.” They swore to methat it served as a wind shield, which will help with the fire, and reflect theheat. If that was the case, I was all for it. Because, by then, I had taken theextra pair of socks out of my bag and put them on my hands over my gloves.

Finally settled in,we hunkered into the impromptu shelter…Not “tent.” Not “cabin”… ImpromptuShelter. And we’re talking, and planning the mornings events, reading the parkguide, when suddenly, one of Bill’s friends says, “Wait, what park are we inagain?”

“That one, right there,” Bill replies, pointing over hisshoulder at the guide book entry.”

“Dude, this thing says camping isn’t permitted here. Thefine for camping is up to ten grand.”

“…We gotta go (Click).”

We’d just gotten to the point where it was warm enough thatfeeling was returning to my fingers, and now we’re leaving again. Slipping andsliding across the icily uneven trail on our way back to the car, we stoppedonce or twice to do random things (Click).Back at the trail head there was a rushing cascade and Bill suddenly said, “Heyman! Get a picture of me and the waterfall.” And goes running up to the top ofthe tube into which the cascade empties. “Wait ‘til I get closer.” And hestraddles the bar overhanging the chasm. “Not yet,” as both feet landed on thetiny ledge. “Take it. Take it,” he exclaimed, finally hanging by one hand froma protective bar over the dark capsule of the cascade tube… (Battery Depleted: Powering Down).

And so we left;hungry, tired, and in pain. Spooling down the road on our way to sustenance, Inoticed a lit bank sign which read 6:54a.m. As it flipped from time to temp,the whopping seven degrees showing, despite the sun already being up, made mejust a little sad.

I need a latte! And I need it now!

Santa Responds: or What Has 38 Legs, and Flies?

2011-12-03T16:21:00.000-05:00

MoTheThird vs. Christmas (Round Two)

Santa, the Ageless Spirit

Christmas is a favorite time formany. Strangers helping strangers, wish one another, “season’s greetings,” andgenerosity prompts people to give, expecting nothing tangible in return. Manyflock to the overlooked and down trodden during this season of love and giving.This season, however, would not be the same if it were not for our favoritefriend in red…

You want me to what?...You must be kidding!...How do youexpect me to do that?...Am I on Candid Camera?...Good. If you show me THENmaybe I’ll believe you.

Convincing Santa ofhis duties would be a little hard. But Santa has grown into something more thanlittle children waiting for an elfin bearer of gifts. He has become the embodimentof selfless giving and purity of heart. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Clause.He is seen wherever love and generosity prompt action. And shown whereselflessness and purity rise to giving. He thrives in the innocence of peoplemaking snow angels, and pressing against frosted windows to see the impressionof their faces.

We cometo this most wonderful time year, and see Santa’s spirit as many take time outof their chaotic holiday schedules to volunteer at shelters and kitchens. Ofcourse, as we’re dashing through the snow, we can’t all stop what we’re doingand work at a shelter.

“Are you nuts? How am I supposed to read thistwice? I have a life you know. What do you mean, ‘not really?’ Whatever! So,you’re just saying that I am going to know… Even if I’ve never seen the kidbefore?... Fine!”

However, many more ofus choose to give of our finances, depositing money into the red canisters ofbell-ringers trying to bring cheer to a less fortunate group.

As over the river andthrough the woods, to grandmother’s house we go, we think of love shared amongfamily and friends. The selfless giving spirit of dear old Kris Kringle isevident in the heartfelt exchanging of gifts. As moms and dads, siblings andcousins, all join the merry songs of the seasons.

You know, Dasher,Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, and Rudolph…Yeah, I did.But I didn’t think that you meant here… They are big and dirty, and if theydon’t stop grazing soon, I won’t have a lawn by tomorrow.”

As we’re walkingthrough winter wonderlands, or gliding along with the song of wint’ry fairylands,we can’t help but notice the glowing faces of the youth all around. As theystand, their eyes cast heavenward hoping for a glimpse of reindeer, running apre-Christmas flight, working all the kinks out, preparing for the big day.Every day to Christmas Eve you can see the tiny children slipping timidly intothe lap of the famed man and whispering cautiously into his ear those things shewould like to see sticking out from beneath the bottom bough of the Christmastree.

Okay, I’m here. Now what? Did I do what? No.No. NO! I am drawing the line, right there. Why don’t I just go through thedoor? Yes, “security system” means something to me, but, not as much as “filthychimney and flaming hot fireplace.” And what about dogs? And Guns? I know thatI would…whoa! What do you mean, ‘good luck?’ This isn’t funny…Hello?! Hello?!

The innocent beliefin Santa is perfectly shown in the 1994 box office hit, The Santa Clause, “Seeing is believing. Believing is seeing. Kidsdon’t have to see this place to know that it’s here. They just know.” Thespirit of Santa lies in the heart of the child who leaves the plate of cookiesand glass of milk for the busiest man of the night.

But, itcame upon a midnight clear. The gift giver and the gift are the most wonderfulpart of the story of Christmas. As the very name Christmas suggests the gift ofChrist. From the best giver, the ultimate gift, to the most needy receiver. Theinnocent Christ having sacrificed deity, the little Lord Jesus lay down hissweet head. The giving and sacrificial spirit of Santa is seen away in amanger.

Okay, you were right. I enjoyed the ride andthe thoughts of the children’s faces when they open up the gifts. But rightnow, I am just looking forward to a long winter’s nap… What do you mean, “inventory?”

The Scrooges, theGrinches, and the general grumpy pants people, say it’s a seasonal marketingploy. But, as long as there are those giving sacrificially, lovinglyunconditionally, and believing innocently in something they can never see, thenSanta will live in Christmas. For some, he’s just a mythical figure whoseexploits are misplaced in civilized society. For others, he is the usurper ofChristmas’s focus from Christ. For some, he is a jolly old man in a storewindow. But Christmas without Santa is like a song without harmony… It justlacks a little something.

Because he’s giving,loving and innocence, and those are pretty key to Christmas.

Photo: WhisperingSoul

2011-12-01T15:59:00.001-05:00

I know we're coming down off of a few really lighthearted posts, but the political machine is rolling out some majorly scary stuff. I really try not to be all down on America and whatnot, but "freedom of the press" only means something if they use it. And far worse is the subject matter behind it. I am flat out scared of my own country. And I think that's a bad thing.

Lost By a Nose: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

2011-11-29T01:10:00.001-05:00

Perception is reality. Seriously. When you think that someone is flirting with you, you feel sexier, and you openup or close off, depending on your attraction to the person. And when yourealize that the person in question was smiling and nodding at the charmerbehind you…well…you get the picture.

Try these statements on forsize: Christmas is wonderful.Christmas is horrible. Christmas is spiritual. Christmas is secular. Christmasis materialistic. Christmas is magical.

Any of them ring for you?

Christmas, is a crazycollection of traditions and new ideas. But if you take them separately,they’re a little nuts. And I’m taking them on. Of course, the fair mindedliberal in me will also defend the crap out of Christmas. Let’s get it on.

MoTheThird vs. Christmas(Round One)

: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

O.K. A head lit reindeer swoopsin and saves a Christmas in peril, triumphing against all odds to illuminatethe sleigh path to happily ever after. What’s not to love?

I’m left to wonder; in thehistory of Santa, was there NEVER a “foggy Christmas?” An entity such as Santa,who delivers gifts to the world, over the course of a day, magically altered orotherwise, did not have the foresight to see bad weather in the cards? I’m notimpressed. Greek fire, famous for it’s ability to withstand the elements inbattle, has been around for a really long time, and should have been ideal forJolly Old St. Nick’s purposes. You’d think he could get his hands on some.Alternative lighting would have eliminated the need to break another memberonto the team; which seems like an unnecessary risk, at the last minute. If Greek fire, other torches, and headlamps,etc. aren’t an option, what will happen when Rudolph isn’t an option either? Thisseems like a precarious point on which the entire Christmas tradition teeters.

And I know that you’rethinking, “Rudolph will just live forever with Santa’s other Reindeer.” Ifthat’s the case, then the whole thing becomes less explainable, because…If thereindeer live forever, where did Rudolph come from? And won't the world be, eventually overrun by immortal reindeer (Sarah Palin notwithstanding)?

Silly little details like,severe internal logic gaps aside. I’m going to go ahead and assault the storyof Rudolph from the moral high ground. Yup, I’m getting high and mighty on afavorite tale. Santa, the very model of love, the rewarder of good littlechildren, and perpetual threat for parents of naughty children to hold overtheir heads. Santa, who is so concerned with fairness and justice, that he hasa list of children, which he checks twice, to assess their gift worthiness.Either ignored, was ignorant of or, worst of all, was complicit in theexclusion of a reindeer from “any reindeer games.” According to the movie, thisexclusion included necessary life and job training. This is unconscionable.

A sick extension of this repression,is the hero status which he enjoys after the foggy night. None of the reindeerappear to have experienced any psychological evolution. The entire body acceptshim only as a solution to a deficiency of the collective. I know I use thisexample with some frequency, but Rudolph is Christmas’s X-man. They don’t wanthim ‘til they need him. And they don’t mention him after that. And, while, Idon’t think that they created Sentinels to hunt down the exceptions, I’dimagine that the next reindeer who comes down the pike who is a littledifferent won’t be joining in reindeer games either.

I have to give the story onething, though. Rudolph, as a protagonist is a little simplistic. Nevertheless,he serves as an amazing example of, the Ubuntu philosophy and forgiveness. Rudolph,against the backdrop of years of what amounts to psychological torture, is surroundedby panic stricken colleagues and even the negligent boss man, holding all thecards in his hooves. With the opportunity to give everyone the middle…nevermind, he lets it all go, and comes to the rescue of the world’s children.

So we have an incrediblyheroic hero in a world where Santa, the elves, and the reindeer are the badguys. Some Christmas that is.

So who gets this point,Mo3 or Christmas?

Better Boyfriend 101 (Cont'd)

2011-11-27T12:51:00.001-05:00

The MoTheThird School of Love is back in session.

It's our privilege, class, to have a guest lecture and case study of sorts. Today we’ll feature the story of a young man who pays attention like very few men I’ve ever known. In this one story, he successfully incorporated elements I, II, III, and X, from our first class, which was a basic primer for Boyfriends who wish to take a step toward exceptional. And I’m sure that if I had included an VIII on my original list, he would have done that one too.

My dear friend Tess, an art teacher with whom I went to school, has been seeing Brandon, a nice enough young man (even though they’re never really good enough for your “dear friends”), for something like three years. Living in the hills of central Pennsylvania (a redundancy I know), they were prone to picturesque walks. On one such walk, along a trail, Tess sees another classmate of ours Greg, a fellow artist, “What a crazy coincidence,” she asserts.
“Not at all,” Brandon replied. “I asked Greg here, to paint a portrait of us in the park.”

So, they set up in a cute little hand holding pose, and Greg gets to work sketch, sketch, sketch, paint, paint, paint. Bam! Done. He turns the painting around for the subjects to admire.
“Wow, this is incredible. Brandon, this was so thoughtful. Wait…I don’t have a ring?” Greg takes the painting. And Brandon takes a knee, and asks Tess to be his… forever.

O.K. Just maybe, he’s good enough for my dear friend.
I’d say that he understands that God is in the details.
Do you?

Homework? Tell me your story.
Class Dismissed!

Photo by: Ashley-Danielle

Waxing Poetic (Again)

2011-11-22T18:06:00.001-05:00

This remains one of my favorite poems. It's nice to think of the beauty in the everyday.

Barter

Written by SaraTeasdale

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children’s faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.

Better Boyfriend 101

2011-11-19T15:32:00.001-05:00

10 Tips For Boyfriends WhoWant To Be Above Average

With a few notableexceptions, my closest friends are women. I get along with them better. Thecomplexity. The self-reflection. The fashion senses. There’s just more room inthe ranks of women for all of my idiosyncrasies. So, ever since forever I’ve been oneof the girls. As a direct result, despite the immense complexities amongindividual women, I’ve had the chance to observe a lot of overlap. The overlap provides me withinformation. And my friends provide me with a cabinet of wisdom so great thatany president with equivalent depth would add world peace, and the cure forcancer to his or her resume.

So, between this lifeexperience, and the ocean of insightful pages I’ve read? I don’t suck. That’sall we can hope for, I think. I make a good friend, and, I believe, an okayboyfriend. The women in my life have, joked, asked, and at times flatlyinsisted that I teach a class on women in which I help guys of all ages to makethemselves the men that women want to date… or at least, not to suck.

I’ve said it before, and I’llsay it again, I love women. I respect women. And think to myself, perpetuationof the species or no, I don’t know how women put up with most of the garbagepulled by boys masquerading as men…or something. Most guys joke that women shouldcome with an instruction manual. The problem with a manual on women is thatmost guys, who should read it? Won’t.

So here’s a little somethingthat even the laziest boyfriend or suitor can muddle through if he has anactual eye to being a better man. Mostof it, you’ve seen, read, or heard before, but I promise, it bears repeating.Others are personal tips and bits of experience I’ve garnered through lifeexperience. So, here are your ten tips. Do not take them lightly. They areintended to be used by men, or the masculine partner, with a woman or thefeminine partner, who are seriously intending to improve a long termrelationship. If you use these tips for any other ploy, trick, scam, orwhatever, the Universe will come in and drop a monstrous…batch of karma on you.

I. There are three photos youshould have. (1) Get a print of you and her. Put it in a frame. Make itprominent. It should be visible within five steps of the entrance to yourspace, house, apartment, or room (if you have roommates without much usefulshared space). It should be a brightly lit shot, not more than half a body,ideally a head shot ending around the shoulders. (2) Grab a nice shot of heralone. Ask her to provide you with the picture so that a) she knows it exists and b) it's a picture that SHE is confident about. Full body, if you can swing it. It should also be printed. This one goesin your room, also in a frame. Keep it visible, but it doesn’t have to be asmuch so. (3) The third shot I recommend is THE action shot. This one comes withyou wherever you go. It could be printed or on your phone. It could be her, orboth of you, but no one else. It’s only important that you have an excuse toshow it often, preferably a story that’s not too mind numbing. Make it happen.

II. Do something ordinary.Awesomely. A personal favorite of mine was having a picnic with my girlfriendin my living room. A cheese tray, a basket of fruit, and a bunch of flowerswent a long way. Another few options: You love sports. She loves kids. Take herto a little league game. And if you can swing it, go to a game from herhometown or school. Bring coloring pages to the restaurant with you and have a coloring contest. Let the server judge it and figure out a prize of some sort.

III. Create something abouther or for her. A poem, a story, a painting, a drawing, a song would be a nicegesture. You want it to exist permanently, and be referred to for reasonsgreater than practicality or function.

IV. Heads up! Your girlfriendhas a thing she hates. It’s totally irrational. And guess what? You don’t evenknow what it is. One of my best friends, and closest advisors, positively hatesthe smell of…candle smoke. You know how, when you blow out a candle, a wisp ofdense smoke slowly creeps up; it bothers her to no end. Do you want to be herknight in shining armor? Lick your two fingers and stop the smoke.

V. Stick out your arm andopen her door. When you’re walking with your partner, stick your arm out in away that recalls European High society. Amazingly, it is less inconvenient thanholding hands (by keeping them from getting cold). It looks cool. And yourgirlfriend’s friends will think it’s nice. By the same vein, open the door forher. Don’t “happen to be walking in front of her and grab the door.” You haveto, “do the awkward double time step to beat her to the door and hold it openwhile she walks in, before you.” And though my sources tell me that getting outof the car is less important, when you’re getting IN to the car, make sure youopen her door. You've been warned.

VI & VII. Listen &Respond

These could have been numbersOne through Ten. I’ll drop them in as two very centrally located numbers, witha slight twist. Listen to her. One hour per week. Not four 15-min sessions. Nottwo 30-min sessions. Not even a 55 and a 5. Sixty uninterrupted minutes, youcan find it in your schedule; it’s the length of a TV Drama. Get two chairs,point them at each other, and listen to her talk about her day, her dreams, theneighbors, it doesn’t matter at all; just do it. Just as important, you have totalk back. Hitch was right. Sorry guys, there’s no good way around it. Your partner wants tohear your voice. Even if you have to write your talking points on your hand. That I, “communicate, clearly and effectively,” is one of mybest qualities, according to my dear friend. Turn off your phone, and Duty will still be Calling when your hour is up. There is a massive amount of valuehidden in conversation. Dig.

IX. Take a cue from BarneyStinson. “Suit up!” Well, you don’t have to suit up entirely, but once a month,you have to take it up a notch. A button-down shirt with full length sleeves,and a pair of dress trousers, and an honest to goodness tie are your uniformfor the night. If you look special, she feels special. She can take you outwith pride, instead of buyer’s remorse. So button your shirt, all the way tothe top (no faking). Dust off/Salvo/borrow a tie. Sorry, no polos or jeansallowed. Shy away from khakis, even.

For a value bump: Get ahaircut. Let your significant other or someone better than you with clothes tocreate your ensemble.

X. God is in the details.

The same way that protectingher from the little things she hates, is important, it’s a million tiny thingsthat make you the boyfriend that she talks about with her friends. Brush herhair away when it falls into her eyes. Carry an umbrella that you hold over herwhen it rains. Slip a hair tie in your briefcase, sometimes she’ll need it. Write “thinking of you” on a post-it and stick it in her glove box,or the bottom of her laptop, or inside her jacket pocket. You’ve heard thatit’s the little things…I’m telling you, it’s true.

photo: Who Is Prince Charming?

Does God Care If I Eat Chocolate Ice Cream (Part 2)

2011-11-16T18:34:00.001-05:00

DoesGod Care If I Eat Chocolate Ice Cream (Part 2)

Pictureyourself sloughing through the line in your dining hall at school (work, camp,wherever, use your imagination). All afternoon, you’ve wanted chocolate icecream. Your overwhelming desire for a chocolate treat is stymied when as youarrive the last scoop is scraped from the bottom of the container. The peoplebehind the counter promise more in the very near future. And your hankeringwill not be ignored. So you wait. And as you wait you strike up a conversation.Your conversation reveals a similar destination after dinner, (a guest speakingat a lecture, perhaps?) to which you walk together. You’re introduced by yourice cream buddy to a group of people, one of whom shares your field of study.You share classes. Over the course of your time together, you grow to love oneanother. You’re off onto an adventure to happily ever after.

So,if you hadn’t stuck around for the ice cream, you’d have missed the person, whointroduced you to the classmate, who brought you love. How does this penchantfor ice cream fit into God’s grand design? And if it doesn’t, were we reallysupposed to meet?

O.K.So the hypotheticals are always fun but let’s run down a real live scenario.

2001-I write my first entirely voluntary short narrative for a writing contest, asurrealist piece where people can battle with music.

2002-A spritely 60 something substitute teacher in my AP American History class,flails about, coffee in hand, going on about the nature of history as fact andstory. Almost frightening in his enthusiasm for learning I learned more thatday than in the rest of the class. And despite seeing him from a distanceacross hallways and through classroom doors, throughout my entire time in highschool we never speak again.

2003-My friend’s mom mentions a new coffee shop in downtown Canton. Muggswigz provesto have the finest tea selection I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s beautiful. And Ievangelize the daylights out of the place. I drag every willing person there;and even the odd unwilling person. Regular game nights, meetings, pretty mucheverything could be held there.

2005-I apply for a job in the banquets department of the Marriott McKinley GrandHotel, setting up and tearing down rooms for events. After a quick chat withthe woman behind the desk, I ask to whom, “Attn:” should be given. “Well, I’m actuallythe manager of the front office. I could use a personality like yours.” Andjust like that, I’m a bellman.

TheMarriott McKinley Grand Hotel provides the background for the most absurdroller coaster of sexual identification and misidentification in my entirelife. A stack of funny stories start to pile up and I become a hit at parties,“the almost but not really gay man.”

2008-Living with another guy in a tent, to teaching dance, to being stalked forweeks, my stories begin overflowing my memories. I start writing down myadventures.

2009-The pile of notes, stories and ideas is not close to being a book. I start ablog to get a sense of accomplishment.

August2011- After something of a slow spell, I read the incredible 33 Million People in the Room byJuliette Powell, and redouble my blogging efforts and focus.

October2011- My blog revived I read, Everything YouNeed to Know About Blogging, the author’s idea of writing books for digitalpublishing in a effort to get attention to your sites, resonates with me, Istart dusting off ancient notebooks and getting my book back in order.

November 1^st, 2011- Three daysafter reading the book, sitting in Muggswigz working on my writing, I see myquirky sub from history class, looking as spry as ever, and wonder if he’sstill scaring the little highschoolers. That’s not what I said though. I askedhim if he was still overwhelming the minds of the future. He laughed, and hetold me that he was not. And though he didn’t remember me, he then asked mewhat may be the most off the wall question of my month (or more), “So, do youhave anything that you’ve written that you’re looking to get published?”

WHAT?!?Who asks that? That’s the kind of timing reserved for the movies. Not even goodmovies, Deus ex machina, B movies, pull this kind of craziness. I stammered andstuttered,

“Actually,I’m working on a book right now.” Whywould he open such an odd line of inquiry? Oliver substitute is now OliverHouse Publishing. Back at his table, he proceeds to introduce me to hisbusiness partner, who loves my idea and excitedly. I receive an enthusiasticinvitation to an event which the publishing house is having. After which, “ifyou like what you see. We can work out some details.”

Evenif I don’t sign a huge book deal and become the next ______ (insert yourfavorite widely published, yet poignant and challenging author here), this wasa very life affirming event. So, here goes.

Iknow that there is no way that I would have been able to engineer even half ofthose things in such a way as to achieve this result. I believe, and even likethe idea, that God leant divine influence to the proceedings. And I am wildlyappreciative. But where does the “willof God” start? Was it a part of the plan that I went to Muggswigz, that hour?If I hadn’t said hi to Mr. Oliver would I have been in defiance to God? Whatabout reading those books? Or having fun living the almost gay life? Orblogging? Or moving to DC? Or teaching dance? Or living in a tent? Or workingat a hotel? Or being chatty with the person behind the counter? Or trying outthe new place in downtown Canton? Or entering a story contest? And there’s noway I made myself have Mr. Oliver only once as a sub, in my three years.

Soif I’m not acting to deliberately do these things, and God just seems tomove them about, where do I actually fit in?

Me, Myself, and The Fat Girl's Guide To Life

2011-11-13T22:04:00.001-05:00

In a response to my post on the attitude of flirting, a friend of mine took on the ubiquity and ambiguity of the word "Curvy" in an honest and indicting post on her own blog. It is a part of an ongoing body and image baseddiscussion. So, I figured that with a link and the original comment for contextwe can keep the party rockin’.

Hi, I'm the author of thelinked post. And, yes, the word curvy has become ubiquitous. Moreover, a lot ofguys do use it as a way to say they like big boobs, without saying they likebig boobs. What can I say? Guys are cowards.
Full disclosure, I do like big boobs. Nevertheless, Imeant "Curvy," the same way, I believe, that the group creator did. Ilike real women, and the actresses who come as close to them as the media willallow. Sarah Ramirez (Dr Torres), Jeniffer Hudson (pre-Weight Watchers), QueenLatifa (Anytime and always), Kirstie Alley (circa: Fat Actress), and BrookeElliott, to name a few.
I debated using "fat." But there are twothings that went into my final word choice:
The first I'm a skinny guy. I'm the guy for whomeveryone always says, "You never gain weight." And I didn't want tosound like the person who says, "Some of my best friends are ____."'Cause let's face it, even if it's true, you come off sounding like a dick.
Second, the vice of "Curvy" is also, itsvirtue. It covers a HUGE range of people and body types. I've said it before,and I mean it every time I say it, I love women. I love the full range ofwomen.
More to come in the further adventures of MoTheThird

The very fleeting and occasional, purely physical, bout withinfatuation, notwithstanding, every woman I’ve ever fallen for has one thing incommon. Each woman is herself or is on a clear path to becoming her. Sometimesit presents as pure confidence. At others, it’s her unbridled intellectualcuriosity. Occasionally, it’s just her mastery of a skill or tenacity in anarea. I’ve fallen for globe trotters, newly liberated women with everything onthe horizon, warriors in the fight for global justice, stage actresses, nurses,artists, librarians, athletes, and scientists in the course of my years. I havefallen for every skin hue, every body type, glasses, 20/20, snappy dressers,uniforms, even sweat suit chic. I’m just a fan of women on the move.

Canwe at least try to evaluate beauty on our own terms instead of the terms

we’vedecided to accept from Vogue andHollywood and your aunt Gertrude

andthe girl who won “Best Booty” in high school? Shouldn’t we teach men

tolust for something other than women with little-girl bodies and Playboy

Bunnybreasts?

OK, so there’s this book (by this woman with whom I mightbe in love. I have a little problem of falling in love with women who writeawesome books), The Fat Girl’s Guide to Life, which is on my top ten“Coolest Books I’ve Ever Read” list. And the above, from the introduction, isone of a number of great declarations in the book. The author, Wendy Shanker,who self describes as, “not a doctor [or] a therapist, [but] a professionalex-dieter with a chip on my shoulder and a mission on my mind,” writes theultimate expose against… the anti-fat social and industrial complex, in ahilarious work full of scientific fact made accessible for the layperson.

FAT!!

Is everyone uncomfortable yet?

I am. Wendy Shanker, however, is not at all uncomfortable.Actually, she’s a little pissed, because people, “think fat means ‘loserish’and ‘lame’ and ‘disgusting’ and ‘hopeless.’ But, “fat” she contends, is nothingmore than an adjective. So, she’s turning “fat” into “Fat.”

“Fat girls tellmean people to mind their own business. Fat girls fight back.”

Her work covers many aspects of 21^st centuryUnited States living. In the complex worlds of fat science, she indicts themedical industrial complex for the distortion of science with the Body MassIndex and a host of other things. Talks about fat media portrayals (theirnotable absences and just as notable occurrences). She cracks open the trialsof dating fat and the realities of fat in bed. Challenges fashion and similarconstructions. And she, brilliantly, suggests that skinny people are jealous ofthe fat people in their lives:

They spend their free time atthe gym, they deny themselves the food they want to eat,

they wear shoes thathurt their feet and clothes that restrict their body movement.

Then you come along: jiggle-jiggle-jiggle.Damn you, don’t you understand that just by

your very fat existence you arebreaking all the rules! You are like someone who has

cut into line at themovies.”

I am skinny. I’m of average height. I’m a nerd. And I’mAfrican-American.

Some days I power down egg after egg, crossing my fingersfor magic bulk.

Or, cross my fingers for an extra couple of inches.

Or, that I wouldn’t ALWAYS say the nerdiest thing ever.

I want to blend in, and stand out at the same time.

Be something I’m not.

Some days I’m a Fatgirl.

Though, I’ll likely revisit thisbook for a post in the near future, I’d recommend that you pick it up foryourself. But to send us out, I’ll turn again to Wendy:

You can choose to be a mom or anexecutive or both. You can choose to be happy or

healthy or none of the above.You can choose to be fat or you can choose to be thin or

you can choose to bein the body you’re in today. It’s not about what you choose, it’s

about thefact that you have a choice. So make one. Choose to be yourself.

And may theresults never be typical.

Does God Care If I Eat Chocolate Ice Cream (Part 1)

2011-11-11T17:54:00.001-05:00

This post is the beginning of a series called, Does God Care if I Eat Chocolate Ice Cream.This is how I think of questions related to things like divine intervention,and destiny, and things along those lines (which is odd considering my distastefor both chocolate and ice cream). My goal is to explore things like decisionchains, and predestination. There will of course be a bit of cross over toother topics. But when you get deep by choice, you get wide by necessity. Thepost is a little long, but I’d like to think it’s worth it. The underlying themes I'd like you to consider are, the persistence of love and the confluence of events.

Part one: Over a Cup

Shortly after I settled into my DC digs,I stopped going to church. It was a decision, part antagonist, part apathy,part internal conflict. But for more than a year, I wasn’t attending any churchregularly. When I was in a church it was as uncomfortable as a badly cut suit.If I was lucky, there was the awkward visitor glad handing, big toothy smiles,knuckle crunching greetings, and the stilted conversation which shields us frompenetrating conversations, deep thoughts, or worse? Silence. You have to givethem marks though. Enthusiastic, but a touch overwhelming. The other option iseven less appealing. You walk in alone. You sing the songs. You listen to themessage. And you go home alone. No greetings. No goodbyes. And lucky for thecongregants, you didn’t upset the balance of their days. You could have watcheda TV church service to the exact same end. After a few such visitingexperiences, I settled into a regular living routine, and the church wasn’t apart of that routine. Work, write, sleep, play, repeat.

Life goes on and my roommate and I moved from our little place on theoutskirts to a microscopic place, right in the thick of it. I was still workin’near the old place, so on a regular day, getting to work was an hour long tripof a train and a bus. On an irregular day it was three busses and two and ahalf hours of think time. And on those irregular days, I passed this churchcalled Mosaic. It reminded me of a cool looking church I’d read about, over onthe west coast. I thought about stopping in some Sunday. But, the people on thebus go up and down, and it was never more than a thought.

Half a year elapses and I’m living and working in the thick of it, butsome of my friends and thinking spots were still in the outskirts. So, everyonce in a while I found myself repeating my “irregular days” on purpose. Allthe while Mosaic sat at the side of the route, beautiful older architecture andan inviting new sign. I was going to go on Sunday, but I overslept SundaySchool, and didn’t want to make myself, “that guy” as soon as I walked in...Maybe next week.

Days and months roll on and I’m headed up to New England to be in thewedding of two very good friends. 688 miles from my childhood home, Canton, and436 miles from DC. So the bride introduces me to her former roommate from heroff campus semester in Michigan, of whom she’d spoken years ago, because shewas attending Malone College in Canton where I grew up. And now when sheintroduced us at her wedding, the roommate is living in…DING! Our nation’scapitol. Our shared connections get us started, we chat over the course of thefestivities,

“Do you go to a church in thearea?”

“No. I visited a few. I’m kindapassively looking, at this point.”

“Well, you should visit my church,it’s called Mosaic?”

Let’s recap, shall we? So I went toNew Hampshire for a wedding, met a girl who grew up in my hometown, who roomedwith my friend, who studied in Michigan and, who lived in DC, AND attended theonly church I’d considered going to. That’s a little much to be just acoincidence. So, immediately, upon my return, I didn’t go. I waivered andwaffled, and stayed home.

I decided to go to church again,one Saturday night, the same way people give up smoking. Only this time, when Iwoke up late on that Sunday morning, despite my guarantee of tardiness, and atthe risk of being, “that guy,” I dusted myself off and hopped on the bus, forthe longest trip of my life.

I rolled along, as uncomfortable asanyone can be. While on a purely social level, large groups are my favorite,there’s something raw about being in a church. All the more, for a church onehas no knowledge of, save the captivating sign, and the hope that a singlefamiliar face may be among the gathered.

When the bus arrived at mydestination, I didn’t know what to do. I walked over to the front of thebuilding and just stood there, staring up at the building. The doors were openand I gazed through the foyer into the sanctuary. And I started in. Every stepa hesitation. Not sure why I’m here, and not sure where to go next. Starbucksand the book in my bag are sounding more and more appealing.

I stepped through the foyer intothe back of the sanctuary, and I just stood there. My head on a swivel, Iteetered on the edge. A stiff breeze and I was gone with the wind. The people in the church weren’t doing thetypical pre-service milling; they were gathered around two large round tableseating breakfast. They’re eating. I’m standing. And I don’t know what todo. There’s a young woman, maybe thirteenyears old, standing in the corner rocking out on a by the cup coffee maker. Iwatched her for a second, “HI! Would you like some coffee?” She offered, with asmile that did not say, “Welcome to our church.” Her smile greeted me likefamily, “We’ve been expecting you. We’re so glad you made it.

I will never be able toencapsulate, the warmth that washed over me, in words. I felt what I can onlyexpress as God’s love radiating off of her, like the light of the sun off ofthe moon. Years of cynicism and disillusionment came off like the armor ofbattle which has been won. And, for the duration of my time in DC, the church enfolded me into its body. Mosaic is a collection of broken pieces thatcome together in their brokenness to create something bigger, somethingbeautiful, something eternal. Being a part of that community, reminded me why Iwant to be a Christian.

Ugly Betty and the Differentization of the Media

2011-11-04T19:43:00.002-04:00

Ugly Betty and the Differentization of the Media

So, I don’t really like watching TV. I like TV shows,because they allow for real story andcharacter development. But I can’t really stand being anchored to the tube atthe same time every week. I live a crazy life, not exactly conducive to thatplan…plus a lot of times I just forget. My solution? DVDs of shows that Istumble upon, mostly through the recommendations from friends. I can watch themin my odd free hours, and semi-ignore them while I write. White Collar, Pushing Daisies,and Psych are some of the greatrecommendations I’ve taken up.

So, one of my closest friends (A life diver currently working in Africa and sculpting her Rising BFD status) has had a perpetual bug in myear to watch the TV show, Ugly Betty.I was a little excited, because I loved the movie (and book), The DevilWears Prada, which has many similar concepts. And it seemed like a bit ofan interesting spin on the coming of age story. I had my doubts, however, becauseshe also introduced me to Smallville, which is the only show that I’ve stoppedwatching mid-season. I am muddling myway through the series right now (Season 4, disc 2). And, well, it’s a littlebit crazy. There enough things about the show to enjoy, and even be challengedby, that I made it into the final season. But on the other hand, there enoughthings that are so ridiculous that once per episode, it seems, I’m pausing thedisk to let the awkward tension pass (I get involved in stories).

Ugly Betty Rocks Because:

1. America Ferrera. Seriously, this woman is amazing. She’sabsolutely engaging, animated, stunning, and despite being made-up, touched up,and retouched, she looks a little like a real person.

And Betty's character is loud, and mismatched, a little dense, and clashy, but we love the living daylights out of her.

2. A protagonist who is, ostensibly, morally sound. And,moreover, serves as an ethical guidepost for the people in her life, as much aspossible.

3. The costumes are absolutely fabulous. I mean, it’s reallynice to see men and women dressed to the nines. I haven’t been this excited formedia wardrobes since the Ocean’s 11, 12,and 13.

4. Interesting relationships and the dynamics thereof.Emotionally stunted boss and more than able, assistant/friend. Neurotic parents and resentful children. Andhow can we leave out, romantic partners and the cadre of issues following them(jealousy, resentment, infatuation and unrequited love).

5. There’s also the huge issues of capable underdog, conqueryour fears, be your awesome genuine self. Papi gets on a cooking show. Hilda starts a boutique. Justin is crownedhomecoming queen. Daniel finds love and a soul.

Ugly Betty Totally Sucks Because:

1. Whenever Betty isin a crisis which requires judgment in her personal life, she turns to heregocentric short sighted, if not well meaning sister. With recommendationsranging from, revenge, to theft, to violence, Hilda’s advice consistentlyleaves Betty in a much worse situation than the one in which she began.

2. Excessive use of cliffhangers is not a device, it’s nauseating. There’s no need to drop a major bomb inEVERY episode. In poetry we’re taught that you shouldn’t accent every syllable.If you do, the impact of the accent is lost. No one told that to the writersand producers of the show that.

3. Maybe it’s my unquenchable optimism, but there seem to bea preponderance of people who are totally obtuse, and not in the, “ignorance isbliss,” type of way, that’s more Betty’s deal. Amanda and Marc accept thegoodness of Betty without noticing it at all. Wilhelmina Slater absorbs thehelp and goodwill of others like a black hole of decency. There’s enough narcissismin this show to leave me with a sucking sensation right around my humanity.

4. This series is four seasons of “The Murphy’s Law Show.”It’s one train wreck after another. My boyfriend starts to mature/ man up anddies/discovers his son. My boss’s admiration of me perpetually alienates mefrom my co-workers. The thieving friend gets in league with your sworn enemy,right before you lose your wife. I step up to parenting my lost son, right intime to discover…You get the idea.

Like life, there’svery little in the line of real resolution, but these people never get so muchas a breather, it’s exhausting to watch.

O.K. So Ugly Bettytries to leave us with a good message but at the same time, drags us through asurrealist nightmare to get there. If you’re a Soap watcher, or an addict tostraight shots of drama, you should get Ugly Betty, tonight.

If it doesn’t exactly fit, maybe go with, The Devil Wears Prada, and Finding Forester, and maybe You’ve Got Mail, to get the range ofpersonal ethical questions, emotional upheaval, and fantastic clothes.

You will have to go elsewhere to get your America Fererra dose(I’d say go with, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, or maybe, Real Women Have Curves).

This is MoTheThird. You stay classy web browsers.

How to Use Lemons - wikiHow

2011-11-02T02:57:00.000-04:00

I love finding cool uses for things. WikiHow and I have had some good times. So when I happened upon this How to Use Lemons - wikiHow
I had to share it with the really cool people who put up with my musings.

I'm not sure if I'm more excited about baking with, drinking with, or disinfecting with lemons.

A lemon air freshener, cute and effective.

And I promise to tell you how my lemon dish turns out.

If You Don't flirt Back, It's Sexual Harassment

2011-10-29T02:46:00.000-04:00

Weeks ago, I started writing this post. Working and re-working the text, the concepts, the content. Finally, I realized it was definitely all of the above. The old version of this post pitted trim, thin, and skinny women against their curvy, filled out fleshy counterparts. And I didn't want to add to the body hype. And since my message has implication across the spectrum of bodies, it made sense to put everyone on the same time against anger, loneliness and other such ethereal concepts. So here's my deal...or the deal...or one of a host of deals out there to be addresed as they relate to the getting together of guys and girls.

I'm in a Facebook community called, "if guys like 'curvy' girls then why do all the skinny ones have boyfriends?" Now, being a self proclaimed lover of curvy women and knowing that I'm by no means, the only one of my kind, this group is an affront to my sensibilities. Not that it exists...but that it needs to. I spoke a bit with the groups creator who expressed personal and observed frustration at a common singleness among the soft, sloping ranks of the curvy.

There's a great scene in the film, Spanglish, in which the narrator ruminates on the nature of body image:

     American women, I believe actually feel the same as Hispanic

     women about weight. A desire for the comfort of fullness.

     And when that desire is suppressed for style, and deprivation

     allowed to rule, dieting, exercising American women become

     afraid of everything associated with being curvaceous, such

     as wantonness, lustfulness, sex, food, motherhood,

     all that is best in life.

I think she makes some interesting points. And I think that she's mostly right. There is a degree of internal comfort in the natural contours of one's body. Internal confidence engenders a high degree of self awareness and introspection. People with high self awareness and introspective natures make excellent partners. Healthy concerns, expressive emotionally, but not co-dependent. So, to all the self-sustained women living in the comfort of fullness; I want to date you.

   Here's the rub.
   In some way shape or form, before "happy couple", comes "flirting strangers." There seem to be a phenomenon wherein lots of people don't like to flirt. But, like that group is based on individual experiences, so is this post. But hopefully, this is more of a call to action, than pure lament. I am an insatiable flirt. Sometimes I even flirt when I don't want to. I do it for fun. I do it for profit. I do it to get places. I do it to kill time. It's a little like shopping.

But, it's more like a dance. It's give and take. It's compromise. And, as much as it pains me to say, in my experience, some girls do the dance like Blackpool Champions. While a lot of others act like they don't even like to dance, much less be in a dance club.

   There's much fun to be had in flirting. I don't know why everyone doesn't do it all the time. Work. School. The mall. For a challenge flirt at the DMV. But even if my flirt radar is always up, it takes two to tango. Rapport building? Chatting up? Flirting? All of this has to start somewhere. A stranger says "Hi" on the street. A guy who uses the machine near you in the gym nods to you. The smiling cart pusher in the produce asile. No matter what something becomes, it usually starts as something else. Most experts identify flirting as a means or an end. If I sound a little obsessed, I don't always flirt...Sometimes I sleep.

A few women, in my experience, are on board with the anytime flirt mentality. At the gym, she's the girl who nods back, and may even remove an earbud for a chat. When you ask to sit next to her at Starbucks, she'll eye you up and may or may not offer you the seat. But, you got the once over. And that's all I wanted, a shot.

   Before you decide that ALL guys are horrible, that they only date skinny girls, that they only date ______, make sure you are a little more comfortable with you, and that your flirt radar is pinging.

Flirting Sunset by ~krisagon on deviantART

All Good Things...

2011-10-26T14:58:00.000-04:00

It ended with a ~~kiss~~ ~~handshake~~ slightly awkward hug. Which is a shame really. The date was wonderful. It was a spur of the moment thing. One second we were chatting on the phone on our ways home from our different places of business, the next we were on our way to meet up at a great late night coffee spot. It was open mic night so our conversation went on against the backdrop of loud singing and guitars. Nevertheless, it was engaging and pleasant, we talked about a little of everything and it was a good time. I walked her to her car when the place was closing and... THE QUESTION:

How does a great date end when you don't subscribe to kissing on the first date?

Still Voting, "Stewart 2012," Though

2011-10-26T02:14:00.000-04:00

So, as presidents go. I really actually think this one is trying hard. I even think he's smart. I think that the weight and intrisic compromise of the office of the president are still suprising to him. I think he thought making a difference would be easier. A lot of people blast him for that. Which I guess it fair. But what blows my mind is when people attack him for doing things like ending our occupation of foreign states. I guess I'm just as confused about this whole thing as he is.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c

End O'Potamia

www.thedailyshow.com

Daily Show Full Episodes

Political Humor & Satire Blog

The Daily Show on Facebook

Highlight Reel (aka A Blanket and a Remote)

2011-10-24T00:58:00.000-04:00

The universe conspires to keep the coolest things just out of reach of adults in the United States. Take nap time for one. Why should the under five crowd monopolize the quality sleep time, that is the middle of the day? And recess. Why shouldn't we take some time to play, just because? But kids aren't the only ones keeping all the cool tricks. Animals fly south for the winter. And, they hibernate! How cool is that? "Hey Honey, ready for bed? I set the alarm for early May. 'Cause when we got up last April, I was groggy 'til mid June."

Well, in honor of hibernation (,and higher sensibilities), here are ten films for the cold days and hot chocolate nights. Not only will these movies entertain you, but each offers an interesting value in personal development... I hope. In order of...random.

The Tourist (2010)- Despite being critically lambasted, this is a fantastic story of internal change. Math teacher Frank turns a mistaken identity case into a chance to re-brand himself "an adventurer."
Quote:
Italian policeman 2:You wish to report a murder.
Frank Taylor:Attempted murder.
Italian policeman 2:That's not so serious.
Frank Taylor:Not when you downgrade it from murder. But when you upgrade it from room service, it's quite serious.

Takeaway: You've done good things. You've done crappy things. You've done less than you'd hoped. But only you can decide to be the best version of yourself.

Temple Grandin (2010): Claire Danes's best film ever. I'm not kidding. Best. Film. Ever. The true story of a woman who is, "not like other people. [she] think[s] in pictures and [she] connect[s] them." Her mind for observation and incredible eye for detail allows her to solves problems in amazing innovative ways. And her autism creates unique social challenges that she overcomes with the help of her family and friends. This character is so dynamic that it even makes animal husbandry an exciting setting.

Quote:
...They will be very calm. Nature is cruel but we don't have to be. We owe them some respect. I touched the first cow that was being stunned. In a few seconds it was going to be just another piece of beef, but in that moment it was still an individual. It was calm and then it was gone. I became aware of how precious life was...
Takeaway: You have to outgrow your obstacles. What's your excuse?

The Social Network (2010): Amazing film. See also, "Facebook Me."
Quote:
Erica Albright: Look,you areprobably going to be a very successful computer person. But you'regonna go through life thinking that girls don't like you because you'rea nerd. And I want you to know from the bottom of my heart that thatwon't be true. It'll be because you're an asshole.
Takeaway: Success is awesome. People are important. If you don't have someone to high-five for your millionth user, there's a bit of a disconnect.

Hitch (2005): Not quite on the same caliber as "The Social Network," for script craftsmanship. It's funny. It's light. What's crazy is that it's true. Well, not a true story. But they offer a lot of useful truths for men and women alike. From a prohibition forbidding lip biting while dancing, to an admonition to leave room for their 10 after you go 90.
Quote:
"One dance, one look, one kiss, that's all we get, Albert. Just *one shot* to make the difference between happily-ever-after, and oh-he's-just-some-guy-I-went-to-some-thing-with-once."
Takeaway: As much as it sucks, and as much as the feminist in me cries "Foul!" Hitch is right, "With no guile, and no game, there's no girl." But, just as importantly,.."Basic principles? There are none."

Limitless (2011): They always said that drugs would open up your mind to new things. In this case, a drug opened up his mind to everything. Total recall and the ability to synthesize all available data are two powers of the down on his luck writer when he's introduced to NZT-48. He finishes a master novel, and makes millions in stock trading in mere days. Suspicious associates, blackouts, and death, however, are among the less enticing side effects. Manipulation and hubris move the story right along.
Quote:
Eddie Morra:[at a party] ... Well sure, you'd get a short-term spike, but wouldn't that rapid expansion devalue the stock completely in two years?
Kevin Doyle:No, 'cause there are safeguards!
Eddie Morra:Against aggressive overexpansion? There aren't because there are no safeguards in human nature. We're wired to overreach. Look at history, all the countries that have ever ruled the world - Portugal, with its big, massive navy... All they've got now are salt cods and cheap condoms.
[crowd laughs]
Eddie Morra:And Brits? Now they're just sitting in their dank little island, fussing over their suits. No one's stopping and thinking, 'Hey, we're doing pretty well. We got France, we got Poland, we got a big Swiss bank account... You know what? Let's not invade Russia in the winter, let's go home, let's pop a beer and let's live off the interest.'
Takeaway: Nobody is going to give you NZT. What's the the next thing you're going to do to expand your mind?

These are a few good ones on which you can get started. I'll get a few more going and work up a reading list for my fellow bookworms. I look forward to your input and reviews. Happy viewing.

State vs. Church vs. World

2011-10-11T01:06:00.000-04:00

Do you see the thin lines?

This is a horrible thing. No one should fear reprisals in life because of a system of belief...one of many exceptions being...a belief in killing for kicks...That's just all bad. But, in a general sense, it would be a bad thing if Christians were legally subservient to some other religious body/ group/ sect. And here? They are!

But, wait! There's more!!

A lot of people love the idea of a "Christian" America. And my assertion is in no way that a country united in it's devotion to God would be a powerful thing. But that's not what "Christian" America, would be, I am sorry to say.
Morris!!! Why on earth do you say that?
"Power corrupts. Absolute power, corrupts absolutely."
No one believes that when they're in power. Not even Christians...Especially not Christians.
The Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa...ooo...not a winner.

Ireland vs. Ireland. Not only not Christians' finest hour, but Christian vs. Christian. TERRORISM!
All of the Crusades. I hope I don't have to explain this one.
Since the day Constantine used a sword to defend the faith, powerful Christians have done the same things that powerful Muslims, powerful Atheists, and every other powerful interest has ever done... crazy stuff.

I'm not even saying it's bad. I'm saying it's true. The legislative arm of the contemporary church is fixated on solving whatever problem they see as the most important on Capitol Hill. Alexis de Tocqueville talks about the tyranny of the majority and how it has the potential to drive democracy over a cliff. The craziest part?
The Craziest Part?
THE CRAZIEST PART?

In 5 years. In 10 years. In 50 years when demographic distribution is totally upended, the majority won't look the same at all.

What would it be like if LGBTQ persons composed the majority?
Latin Americans?
Feminists?
Peace Lovers?
Communists?
...
Mutants*?

When they are the true majority, if they treat you, legislatively, exactly the way you want to treat them, could your handle it? If so great. But think long about it, before you start patting yourself on the back. In 50 years, it may not be so simple.

*(I really wanted to put the chess scene from the first X-Men movie here, but slow exposition dialogue scenes from action films are remarkably hard to find for use.)

Wait!..It's my birthday?

2011-10-07T23:59:00.000-04:00

Throughout high school, I was highly involved. Student council, speech, on the list went. But most of my involvement was in the arts. I was president of the choir and in all the theatre productions, spending more time in rehearsals after school, than I did at home...or at least, it felt that way.
   My dedication to the stage rarely flagged. So, the fact that my birthday occured during tech week of our biggest show every year, meant that, in terms of celebrating my existence, the days and even weeks surrounding my birthday were uninspiring...every single year of high school.
   My senior year shaped up no differently. Landing the starring role in Rodgers and Hammerstein's Oklahoma meant that most of October revolved around the stage in one way or another preparing for the first week of November's opening.
   Failing to note my own birthday is not new or unusual for me. Once, my PDA went off in church to remind me of my birthday...much to my surprise. This year, like many others, despite the reminders at home on the morning of, before mid-day it was another say full of things to do, teachers to appease, lines to run, and scenes to perfect. My birth seemed to be the least noteworthy thing about it.
   Four hour long rehearsals can really take their toll on you. And when the director called a "five," ordering us off the stage and to the choir room, for a stage sweep, it came as a much needed reprieve. We shuffled along to the hallway and into the room...
   Where my parents and a few good friends had brought in a huge cake. And the rousing sound of "Happy Birthday," performed by the cast and crew of the of the musical brought an unquentiable smile to my face.
   The "Five" was extended to a ten. But then it was back to the stage for the rest of the night. And even though my entire party was shorter than a sitcom episode, it was my best birthday since my third.

...which is another story.

The Society Of One

2011-10-05T09:10:00.000-04:00

I really enjoy exploring new ideas. I read a lot. And I try very hard to read, watch, and otherwise absorb a range of things. There are as many sides to a story, as there are people involved, and I try to at least glimpse them. I love it when I stumble upon a random story/article, OR I'm trolling Facebook walls and see someone's reposted story, and I get all juiced up and start looking up all the stories about "newly discovered subject X." From articles about fonts to blogs about cooking and gardening, usually it's information that I can't exactly use, but I get to feel smart, and sometimes it comes in handy.

What happens when the homogeneity of ads reaches the world of the search engine?

Ask Eli Pariser:

The Gray Area

Better Boyfriend 101: Love. Delusion. And a Cautionary Tale.

A Gold Star For Church People

Dear The Church, Thanks for seeing a real problem, and taking real action. Slightly antagonistic, as always,

but a touch more optimistic,

MoTheThird

The new Christian abolition movement

What's in a Name? Labeling

Shuffle Up & Deal (Euchre)

Oh, The Places You'll Go

Romance Gone Awry

Better Boyfriend 101 (Hand Holding)

A New Year's Epilogue

A Christmas Rant

In the Pursuit of Love

Holiday Dinner...ish

Trying to Look Cool

Santa Responds: or What Has 38 Legs, and Flies?

Lost By a Nose: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

Better Boyfriend 101 (Cont'd)

Waxing Poetic (Again)

Better Boyfriend 101

Does God Care If I Eat Chocolate Ice Cream (Part 2)

Me, Myself, and The Fat Girl's Guide To Life

Does God Care If I Eat Chocolate Ice Cream (Part 1)

Ugly Betty and the Differentization of the Media

How to Use Lemons - wikiHow

If You Don't flirt Back, It's Sexual Harassment

All Good Things...

Still Voting, "Stewart 2012," Though

Highlight Reel (aka A Blanket and a Remote)

State vs. Church vs. World

Wait!..It's my birthday?

The Society Of One

Dear The Church,
Thanks for seeing a real problem, and taking real action.

Slightly antagonistic, as always,