Going The Distance: An Open Letter To My Friends

To: The Loves of My Life,

My parents have always been big proponents of diversity, so it's no surprise that my friends don't fit into any one category.  We never lived in places that were predominately anything like us.  They raised my siblings and I to believe that it's the differences between us that make us special.  They encouraged us to surround ourselves with people that could offer us an unique perspective on life.

Over the years I have built an epic resume of friendships.  They span racial, ethnic, and religious groups, geographic boundaries, and cross generational lines.  Some of them have been around since before I can remember - they know my everything (and they love me anyways), our memories weave in and out of each others.  Others have come along the way - meeting me at different points of my life: high school, college, grad school; through organizations, mutual friends; or at parties, work, random chance encounters.  Even more recently has a new group of friends found their way into the mix.  

Not everyone sticks around and even more than those are the ones that come and go without a plan.  My brand of pretty complete honesty combined with my propensity for sticking my foot in my mouth has severed a few ties.  I don't always make the right choice, sometimes I make the decision that makes the most sense whether it's "right" or not.  I never give up on the people I care about. 

I love with my whole heart and it has earned me a long list of extraordinary friends.  I am in constant awe of them and owe them more than I'll ever be able to repay.  Life has given me amazing opportunities and presented me with more than I can ever fully appreciate.  I have more than a few friendships that I would go to the ends of the Earth to protect, and that phrase may make you laugh, but that probably means this letter isn't meant for you.            

This past year has definitely had its moments - some that have definitely effected me in a forever kind of way.

Today is my 26th birthday.  Nothing spectacular happened - there were no surprise presents, no orchids, nothing shiny, and the man my heart still unequivocally and irrationally beats faster for didn't suddenly decide he wasn't better off without me. It was just another day.  There's no mystical guarantee that life will change just because you will it to, no matter how many stars you wish on.  Maybe that's the point.  Sometimes we all need reminders that things don't turn out the way we want them to, even if we haven't found it in ourselves to let go and accept it yet. You can still know that your life is complete just the way it is.   

  

So embrace your emotions, the good with the bad, because the beautiful moments in life aren't always the ones that came easy.  Be scared and go for it anyway, chase a dream that doesn't want you, love without excuse - and remember, that at the end of the day, you are loved, and that love is just as good as any kind that exists.

Until Always,

xo

Lindsay

The CW is Fashion Forward on 'Ringer'

Last night, on episode #104 ("It's Gonna Kill Me, But I'll Do It") of the CW's new hit show, Ringer, Gemma (Tara Summers) donned this awesome dress for a birthday dinner in the Hampton's (right side of photo). 

I am totally in love with it!  It is not your everyday dinner dress, but I would completely rock it for an occasion like NYE. 

You can't go wrong with full-on sparkles and a great cut for a memorable night out!

The costumer for this show must be having a ball - keep up the good work!!

"To Lose Youself is the Greatest Tragedy of All"

I have a dear friend who told me that you should follow your dreams, no matter how much they hurt, and I am inclined to agree.  There are bookstores (somewhere still I imagine) that carry an endless supply of guides and how-to's on life - everything from dating to career to raising kids to handling grief.  Nowhere on those shelves will it tell you that life should hurt, and not in any one way, but in every way.

There's an old saying, I'm sure you've all heard or read from time to time, that nothing worth having comes easy.  I think that person was dead on.  The hardest part is running with it, taking that pain and turning it around, hiding it from the world and even yourself at times, and continuing to chase your dreams.  Regrets are only for people that don't put everything that have into everything they want - until the very end.

There's another cliche that I find appealing, it takes on various forms, but the jist of it is: "knowing when to walk away is not the same as giving up."  You can only fight for something for so long before it is no longer the good fight, until it become deluded and chalked with ill intention.  Life is meant to challenge you, to take you to all kinds of wonderfully painful places and leave you breadcrumbs until you find you way to happy.

I'd rather be a silly girl that chases dreams, than a stupid girl who never tries. 

  

Thank you for reminding me that I'm still alive.
 

Women and Weight: The Perpetual Conundrum

There's nothing new or breakthrough about the correlation between women and weight issues.  So if you're expecting some startling new statistic to appear below: a) you will be severely disappointed, and b) you're probably new to my blog..so welcome!

Women, more often than men, have struggled with weight loss - or at least publicly so.  The self-esteem of women that don't fit the mold that is widely used by Cosmopolitan, Glamour, Vanity Fair, and Vogue - probably wouldn't win any award at the county fair (I'm assuming, I've never been to a county fair).  Although the pages of those magazines are littered with articles and factoids about women and boosting confidence levels, it's just doesn't necessarily seem to parallel reality.  When I'm reading those articles (and I do, I love them, I subscribe to all of the aforementioned magazines) the very first thought that crosses my mind is not "Oh, yea, this writer is onto something," it's "If I looked like the girl in the illustration, I would be confident about my body." Point Blank.  And the truth is, if I looked like those women, I would probably find something else wrong with my body to complain about (but I'm guessing my confidence level would most likely be pretty high anyway).

It's actually sad to say that out loud (or write it), that my confidence is tied so heavily to the shape of my body, but in some aspects - it is. 

Recently a guy called me "chunky" and it really affected me negatively.  Right before I started grad school, I went all out workout-diet crazy.  I lost a ton of weight and everything was nice and toned; I was doing things in the gym that made me look like I was straight out of Women's Health (one of my favorite magazines) - my confidence was high and my waistline was trim(mer).  The feeling of fitting into jeans that I've been hiding in boxes in the basement since undergrad was priceless.

Unfortunately, after starting back to school, my priorities shifted.  I no longer could head to the gym everyday after work, and when I managed to get there, I was unfocused and lethargic.  I was getting an "A" in all of my classes, but an "F+" on my health.  As anyone that works out on a regular basis knows, if you don't want to be at the gym, you're probably not getting a lot out of your workout - and the more into working out you get, the more you have to push yourself, thus not interested = not getting results.


So over the last 18 months as late nights, stress, and caffeine overdoses took over my life, my muscles reverted back to fat.  I didn't gain a ton of weight - but I looked like I did.  I knew that I would have to refocus my energy and get back to the gym as soon as possible i.e. when classes were over.  I was teetering at the edge of low self-esteem when it came to my body (and it's summer, which means less layers to cover up unwanted fat and more baring your insecurities to the judging eye in order to avoid heat stroke), so when this guy made that comment, it struck me as a) rude (seriously isn't it a universal rule not to mention a women's weight), and b) it stung (because I knew it was true).

It's been a week since classes were over, and I'm suiting up for the gym (not literally, since my workout outfits consist mostly of t-shirts and yoga pants) and tweaking my diet (more protein and veggies; less sugar, bread, alcohol, wheat, fruit, well basically less everything else).  I don't like to get a big head, but I really like to hear "have you lost weight?" or "you look great!" from the women at work (and really anyone, I'm not
                                           picky).   

Stay tuned for periodic updates on the life of a temporary gym rat.

 
*I really owe my hott trainer for most of my previous success, seriously that's all the encouragement that I needed to get to the gym.





**He was really hott.

What to Expect When You're NOT Expecting

Perhaps the most famous of all "expecting" books is the cult classic: What to Expect When You're Expecting, but why isn't there a book out there dedicated to 'what to expect when you're not expecting'?  A guide book per say to sex without the intention of getting pregnant, or even just a relationship how-to.  I realize there are about a million and thirteen books on dating and relationships, and even sex (besides your standard issued textbook), but why is there not one, singular, edition of a book that is as well-circulated as the aforementioned Yoda of all pregnancy books?

Now I've never personally read that best-seller (as I've never been expecting anything of the baby variety), but I assume it makes a series of generalizations about the female body and typical baby growth and such.  I wonder why it has been deemed the guru of all 'being pregnant' literature?  If it is that easy to generalize symptoms like those, than why isn't there a definitive guide to let's say 'How you should feel when falling in L-O-V-E'?

The difference obviously is that one has scientific backing and the other, well let's face it, is a crap shoot; often a two-faced Indian coin toss, in fact (think Batman).  There's nothing definitive about being in love, or falling in love, or the steps and stages anywhere in between.  There's very few generally accepted statements that you can even make referring to it.  Women and men react so differently to the same stimulation of whatever hormones effect brain chemistry and tell you, in nothing less than flashing neon (preferably pink) signs that you have feelings for another human being and that it may or may not border on the emotion better known as love.  Just like anything involving hormones, some people are more inclined to react strongly, while others are less impacted.



Just some food for thought.  Relationships are tough cookies, tread with stilettos not flip flops. And always carry bandages.    

The Anatomy of a Summer Vacation

When you're a kid, there's nothing you look forward to more than summer vacation; three months of no homework, sunny days, adventures with your friends, family vacations (unless you're a middle child and in that case, it's a coin toss) - three months of lazy in-between.

When you grow up, those same things fall to the wayside as life takes over. No longer do you have three consecutive months to sit, roll over, and play illiterate. Long summer days are filled with responsibility and billable work hours (unless you prescribe to the freelance way of living and in that case, perhaps your days are not consecutively filled with anything of the work-related persuasion).  Deciding how to spend your limited "free time" pretty much becomes the same game that you played last month, except now you can add activities that are warm-weather related (unless you live somewhere that's warm all the time and in that case, perhaps you should just ignore the last line).


However, there's still a strange urge to play hooky (which may be spelled hookey or hookie depending on which dictionary you're relying on).  Even though I landed a j-o-b after undergrad that gave me the summers off, I've never really had the luxury of taking advantage of them in the same way I did when I was a kid.  The first two summer's I scraped by with part time jobs trying to make ends meet, and the last two summer (including this one which is coming to an end in t minus 2 days), I did the same - except I added grad school classes to the mix.

I long for a lazy summer.  One where money isn't the hindrance of my good times and responsibility isn't the backbone of my spontaneity.  I gave myself one week this summer to have an irresponsible good time, to chase something I want, to let the teenage girl in me take over my cerebellum - the whole heart over head conundrum.  I strongly recommend it.  Everything you ran away from will still be waiting when you get back (I promise); the bills and the papers and the friends you don't ever seem to have enough time for aren't going anywhere (unless you've reached the due date and in that case, don't forget that paying bills or turning in a paper late often results in a penalty).      

::insert cliche about life being short and enjoy the ride here::  Summer is once again reaching its finale and the credits are starting to roll in, but when you're an adult you have the advantage of being able to take a vacation during other seasons (unless you can't and in that case, this paragraph is not really for you).  You never get too old to have some quality kid-like time.

The Flight of the Twenty Something: Autobiographical Intent Only

When I was five, I wanted to be an artist.  This dream lasted until I was abruptly confronted with the fact that my drawing skills were limited to well, pretty much, stick-figures and dotted lines.

When I was seven, I saw potential for myself in the realm of rockstardom.  I was fully committed by Halloween of that year.  I took to the sidewalks with my ravishing red feather boa and matching satin dress, which my mother sewed for me (that makes it couture right?), and came home with bags full of free loot.  It was all very diva like, and I felt I could easily acquiesce into this lifestyle.  However, I quickly lost interest sometime around early spring when my role as Little Miss Muffet included singing;  And someone recorded it.   

When I was eleven, I was convinced my future was secure in the world of lawyerism.  I practiced on my parents practically every time I opened my mouth.  I took my sentence of "grounding" as constructive criticism.  My biggest hindrance was that I was not quite the social butterfly I am today, meaning, I didn't speak in public unless spoken to first, and even then it was a toss up.  This aspiration was reignited circa 2001 (which puts us at 15/16) when Legally Blond was all the rage.  I mean seriously, if Elle Woods could do it, clearly Hollywood was telling me I was on the right path.

When I was seventeen, my parents told me I had a business mind, so I majored in business; that is until the university told me in more than one harsh letter, "try again," with an exclamation point.  I was pretty good at talking, I'd been doing it just about my whole life, so I went into communication.  I liked movies and I was pretty social, so I concentrated in film & media studies and society & rhetoric; double to make up for lost time. Obviously.

When I was 21, I was over-experienced and un(der)employed.  So I did what any recent college grad does in the case of a bottomless recession.  I moved home - bribed with the promise of insurance, free rent, and a gym membership - and went to work in the family business, education.

When I had enough of letting my potential take a nap, I applied for grad school.  Armed with a deadline of finishing no later than 25 and a new master plan (which was more like an outline really), I headed back into the world of high priced academia.

Which brings us up-to-date, 25, a week away from graduation, Master's program (mostly) in the bag. And what next?  A world of possibilities!                                            Any suggestions?  
       

Breaking Up is Hard to Do..

I have a friend who recently broke up with his girlfriend.  He's pretty bummed actually, and I feel bad because I was a proponent of him ending it.  Ultimately, he's known for a while that things weren't working out and he was unhappy in the relationship.  So why the extreme bummed out-ness?

 Well, duh.  Being alone is sometimes worse than being in a bad relationship, together.  It's odd how that works out.  The idea of being single seems pleasant, just as the idea of being in a relationship seems ideal from the outside - but the truth is, we want our cake and we want to devour it, all without caloric intake.  We are innately creatures that suffer from lack of boundaries.  When we have something, we aren't satisfied (at least the vast majority of the time), we want more, or different, or exactly what we have but can't and adamantly won't admit it.

So to my friend who may* or may not be reading this while he stumbles through his work day that is providing him only more agitation instead of the cheery distraction my text messages are, BUCK UP!  Someone else will inevitably come along and put a patch on your fractured heart.  People that care about you are all around and sometimes it takes moments like these for you to look up and see that fact.  You're not alone unless you want to be..so take advantage of this opportunity and put in more face time with the friends.  Call someone up for a movie & coffee date (male or female), go thrift store shopping for nick-knacks that you can never justify needing, or throw a potluck dinner party where everyone brings something to eat and something to serve as entertainment.  AND..you can look forward to my list of: "Things to do after a break-up!"     

*he most likely is, since I sent him a text message instructing him to do so..

S-E-X: A Working Title

The first time I read about sex I couldn't have been more than 12.  As part of a program my school had with the Detroit Public Library, the librarians (or a representative) showed up every two weeks with a set of pre-selected books until everyone in the class had theoretically read them all (barring lost/misplaced books and lazy readers)*.  I can't be sure what the criteria was in the selection process, but it seems likely that they were on the bestseller list.  The book that ironically I enjoyed the most was Rats Saw God written by Rob Thomas**.

At 12, I won't speculate as to what my classmates were thinking about, but sex was definitely on the list of "things that had not yet entered my subconscious."  Although the characters are adamant about procuring condoms, the content seems a bit above what we were covering in health class where I think we were still watching videos on "why not to kiss boys" (which by the way I wasn't).

Flash forward to today, parents are up-in-arms about series like Gossip Girl and Twilight (both of which I've read in their completeness) permeating the shelves of elementary school libraries and exposing their children to the raw truth of adolescents.  But the truth is, kids today are much more likely to be effected by this kind of information than they were when I was in middle school over a decade ago.  Statistically, teens are engaging in sex, and sexually-related activities, at alarmingly early ages; "Spin-the-Bottle" is no longer a parent's worse nightmare and "7-Minutes in Heaven" has taken on a whole new meaning.  Realistically, even if you take away books that contain sexual content, sex is still all around us: advertisements, clothing, television shows.  "Sex sells" is a reality that we as a society created and it doesn't look like its going anywhere, anytime soon.

This being said, I avidly support parents that take an active role in monitoring the materials that their children consume.  I saw a group of teenagers out the other day wearing shorts that practically showed off their goodies (more disturbing was that I'm pretty sure they were to young to know the reference "goodies").  I'm a firm believer that if we start treating children like children instead of burgeoning adults, that they may start thinking that are actually children instead of at 12 being convinced they are adults and deserve the same respect.

Sex is great, but not when your still young enough that someone has to explain to you why.    

*I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for never returning this book to DPL, I am still in possession of it (located securely in a box somewhere in my basement) if you'd like it back.  Feel free to contact me via Twitter! 

**This is the same Rob Thomas who later became the creative genius behind one of my favorite television series of all time, Veronica Mars. 

The Misunderstanding of Fireworks

I must admit that I've never understood the appeal of fireworks.  I can see why they were conflated with the idea of freedom historically, but they have since become controlled expressions of this once unpremeditated show of organized chaos.  They are no longer confined to simply the 4th of July, America's Independence Day, but instead keep me up on most warm nights as the neighborhood kids feel the need to show off their personal independence on a daily basis (I also blame Indiana's "loose" laws on the sale of fireworks to minors for the disruption in my beauty rest).

Seriously, bright light, lots of noise..if I wanted to incorporate those things into my everyday routine I would have chosen a more urban environment to call home [no offense city dwellers, that was once me].  

On the plus side, it did  provide PETA with the opportunity to send me a text letting me know that fireworks, although fun, often frighten animals - in case the sight of Fat Kitty hiding behind the bathroom door didn't alert me to that fact already.

**Check Out Doobious.Org for an otherwise lovely photograph capturing fireworks that at least look pretty.

Transformers 3: Epic or Epic Failure?

I sat down to take in the latest (final?) installment of the Transformers franchise last Friday and the first thought I had as I slipped into those mildly stained, red-ish theater seats was this:

What is this movie supposed to be about?

It occurred to me only after I (and by I, I mean someone else) coughed up the $12.50 to see the 3-D version of Michael Bay's latest Blockbuster, that I had no idea what the premise of the movie was.  Other than the Super Bowl commercial that gave away the first 30-seconds or so of the film, the only ads I'd seen simply showed things blowing up.  Despite being an energetic fan* of the first two films, I had my reserves about the third after the press release came out confirming the exit of lead actress Megan Fox.  I may not be her biggest fan, but I'm not to proud to admit that there was a certain chemistry between her and Shia that added to my viewing pleasure.

I won't bore you with a recap of the plot, but my two biggest complaints with it centered mainly on the lack of Fox's character.

1)  The absence of Michaela (Megan Fox) was skirted under the rug as "she dumped me" which was mentioned twice in the early part of the movie with no further explanation.  It seems odd that after Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen where the big plot finish involved the two lead characters finally proclaiming their love to each other that a) she would just dump him, and b) he would so easily jump into this obviously serious relationship with Carly (Rosie Huntington-Whiteley).  Which brings me to point dos.

2)  I believe the whole I'm-not-going-to-say-I-Love-You-first-and-instead-wait-until-we-save-the-world plot line was exhausted in the last installment.  I feel like I just watched all of the same events take place with a different leading lady, and a slightly different - but not really - threat to humanity.      

The rest of the film kind of blended together in my mind as an epic disappointment.**  

*I went to see the last film 4 times in theaters (including opening day), that's 4 times folks!

**The highlight of the film for me was the 6 seconds of screen time the abandoned Methodist Church in Gary, Indiana that the Altered movie filmed at received.      

Behind the Scenes of Altered: Back to One

Yesterday, we were back at Police Athletic Gym (PALs) gym in the lovely Gary, IN, temporary home of the Altered crew. This historic location is a testament to its owner and operator John Taylor, epic boxing coach and fighter.

 

Taylor started a youth program to train young men and women in the community to use their aggression in a more positive light. His students are among several successful fighters including the WBC International Super Lightweight and NABC Lightweight Champion “Merciless” Mary McGee. Taylor opened his doors to the Altered cast and crew with outstretched arms and provided us with excellent young boxers, filling the scene with some great upcoming talent.

The PALs boxing gym almost closed a few years ago due to insufficient funding, but has risen again to be deemed "the comeback." It was thanks to generous donations from supporters that made sure the gym remained open for future generations. Taylor, himself, is an asset to the community and a genuine gem. Despite being 80 years old, he is actively present in the facility at all times, and shares a bond with his students based on respect and mutual hard work. The city of Gary, and the world of boxing, is lucky to keep company with this endearing man.

Teen Wolf (S1:E3) Recap with a Side of Opinion

Tonight the third episode of MTV's newborn-hit, Teen Wolf, aired at its regular time: Monday nights at 8pm (e.s.t.).  I don't know about you, but I wasn't old enough to appreciate the original (I'm talking about the Michael J. Fox one, in case you haven't googled it), but I am definitely a repeat customer of the new one. 

In case you haven't tuned in yet, here's the breakdown.  The lead, hottie Tyler Posey, plays a newly-bitten werewolf, Scott. Scott is taken by Allison.  Allison is the daughter of a werewolf hunter.  Scott lives with his mom.  His best bud, Stiles, plays the role of overenthusiastic but always means well guy.  And, there's a lacrosse capt that seems to have it out for him (even before he stole his star power).

This episode starts predictably with a dream of Scott and Allison getting hot and heavy on a school bus until Scott goes all wolfy and attacks.  We find out after the commercial break that the dream in fact took place, but with a different victim.  Scott spends a good few minutes getting all grry before he runs, literally, into Allison.  After realizing that he didn't hurt to girl that he is quickly falling head over heals for (and after classes), he heads over to visit his wolf-mentor-to-be/supernatural nemesis Derrick's for help.

The relationship between Derrick and Scott is what interests me most.  Scott is an only child (unless one's hiding out at dad's) and Derrick seems set to take over the role of pseudo big brother.  Their love-hate connection will surely continue to be hot and cold, and I couldn't be more thrilled.  They kind of have that Stephan/Damon (Vampire Diaries) chemistry going on. 

Anyway, Scott decides he's not an immediate threat to his lady love and goes on a group date (not by choice) with Capt. Lacrosse jeering all the way.  After the rocky start, it ends up on Allison's porch where they cement with excessive lip locking their promise for more dates sans the group. 

Meanwhile, Allison's dad proves to be extra broody and a non-crowd favorite as he goes after Derrick with some low blows and continues to give Scott some ultra unflattering semi-evil looks.

Scott and Derrick close out the evening blow for blow before coming to a truce. 

The ending was a little too goosebumps-are-you-afraid-of-the-dark for me, but all in all a solid B. 

No Vacancy

If you're like me, then downsizing your wardrobe might prove to be a formidable task.  You probably have a hard time pinpointing when your closet started to look like it was on steroids, or possibly started to take over your room.

Exhibit 1: My overstuffed closet, complete with over the door hooks and a shirt bar that allows for twice as much stuff..

Exhibit Dos: Yes, that is an entire wall covered in racks of clothing!

For me, it's a combination of 1) being addicted to shopping, and 2) not being able to part with items promptly enough to keep up with the replacements.

To meet the demands of my limited space, I have been forced to box up things approximately twice a year to make room for more seasonally appealing options.  This weekend, since the sun has finally appeared over Chicagoland Indiana for longer than 36 hours, I decided to allocate some time to the transition of items.  This also is a great time to discard winter things that I never wore and summer things that I had to come to terms with were never going to be worn.  Some things however present a challenge for me.  Although, I tend to not hold on to things for sentimental reasons, when it comes to clothing it's the complete opposite.  When I look at an item there are a few things that come to mind:

1) The last time I wore it (or when I bought it, since the tags are still on) - chronologically speaking only, If I wore it last summer it's probably going straight to a hanger or hitting a shelf, whether realistically or not I would wear it again.  Unless it's something that maybe I only wore because it was teetering the line between keeping and tossing, and I wore it as a last ditch effort to prove what my mother always says wrong, that I buy things just to buy them.

2) Where did I wear it - see I attach some intrinsic worth to an item based on the memory I associate with it.  I have an uncanny memory when it comes to certain details.  I probably can't list for you everything I wore last week to work, but I can look at a shirt that I haven't worn since undergrad (four years ago now) and tell you the exact party I wore it to, and why that night was so special to me, and therefore why I just cannot part with it. 

3) Does it still fit me - And lately that answer has been overwhelmingly no to at least a 1/4 of my closet (thus the Lindsay's "clothes that I need to lose 10 lbs to fit into again" box sitting in the hallway waiting for someone to lovingly transport it to the basement for me..and if I leave it there long enough, trust me, someone will - and perhaps they'll take my box of "books I already read" and "boots") 

I think that perhaps the biggest thing that most women suffer from would be number 3.  My weight, like most, fluctuates.  And clothing are particularly sensitive to that.  The jeans might have looks great 5 pounds ago, but now I question whether wearing them out could pose a danger to someone if the button pops off and ricochets of something, taking an eye out on the way.  That skirt would be perfect if I took an inch off both of the inner thighs and they looked like they did last summer when I had more time to work out.  An inch here, a pound there, all these things have the power to effect the way something fits and looks.  It is incredibly frustrating and unless you have the time to suffer through consistent workouts or will power to endure challenging diets - this is a reality for many women. 

Stay Strong.  And remember, if you haven't worn it in over a year, you should probably donate it (keep a list, and write it off during next year's taxes!).  Clothes come and go, they shouldn't be what's weighing you down.

Lessons Forgotten

The term “big kid” is thrown around a lot to describe adults that are immature, irresponsible.  It’s one of those idioms that has become a more pc way to refer to people that we actually like, without being completely insulting.  But what are we really losing by using the word kid this way.  We are ultimately marginalizing the characteristics of children that are positive, like:

1. Children are a ball of energy – They are really quite amazing that way.  I can’t remember the last time I had unlimited energy that lasted all day.  Even with the help of caffeine, I’m lucky if I can pretend to be full of energy, and even then it only lasts a max of a few hours.  Yes, sometimes we as adults find burst of energy, but realistically it doesn’t last all that long.  I love men that have energy, kid-like energy.  I think it’s incredibly attractive and I feed off of it. 
2. Children don’t hold grudges – No one forgets being mad faster than a child.  They really know the meaning of “brush your shoulder off.”  They fall down and get back up and go back to what they were doing before.  This is an excellent quality to have.  I know there are times when it’s a matter of emotional self-defense to keep your distance from someone, or even write them off, but holding a grudge for the sake of holding a grudge is unhealthy.  It causes stress that ultimately hurts you more than the other person.  Kids don’t know anything about that. 
3. Children are not afraid to cry – In fact, kids will cry anywhere, at anytime, for any reason.  They have absolutely no problem showing their emotions.  They don’t bottle up their feelings until that boil over and cause a big stir, they are honest.  They haven’t learned yet how to lie with their emotions.  Maybe this is what we can learn most from children.  That it’s perfectly acceptable to feel.

I hope one day someone calls me a big kid, and means it in the best way.

Run Fat Boy, Run!

It has come to my attention the utter hypocrisy that exists within the American educational system.

Running in the halls!

The news is constantly focused on the rise in child obesity, yet we tell children not to run in the halls.  Perhaps if we encouraged more physical activity, especially during time periods where they don't have the option of slug bugging it and indulging in the television (or the "idiot box" as my mother unwittingly calls it) children wouldn't be so fat.  Yes, I said it, F-A-T fat!  There are too many chunky monkeys walking around elementary schools these days, and let's face it, chunky monkey-ness is only cute for a limited time.

We need to seize every available opportunity to get our future leaders hearts racing, blood pumping!

Therefore, I am a strong supporter of running in the hallways (even allowing them to walk briskly would quench my thirst)..UNLESS there shoes are untied, and in that case they should step into a doorway as to avoid being run over like the father did in The Lion King during the stampede (that part still makes me cry).

**Side Note: Despite the title, this is a gender neutral commentary**

When Life Happens, and You Don't..

It's inevitable that there will be moments in life when comparatively you will be in a proverbial holding pattern.  Everyone around you will appear to be moving on, and you - you are stuck.  This happens a lot when people decide to go to back to school instead of focusing on their career or romantic life.  It is possible for you to do all three at once, but more than likely not.

Why is that? 

Well, most people tend to suffer from tunnel-vision, and although as Americans are trained to multi-task (I'm sure there are other countries with similar tendencies, but I can't speak for them) we don't tend to do it proficiently on a larger scale.

The problem with being in a holding pattern is you start to think that the successes of others indicate a failure on your own part.  No, you didn't get that exciting new job.  No, you didn't get engaged.  No, you didn't buy a new house/car.

You have effectively put these things on hold so that you can accomplish the "grunt work."  This endeavor however prominent it may be, presents emotional hurtles.  The idea of being stuck does not exactly scream positive connotation.  You work and work and work, and as soon as you finish -  a new semester starts, and everything goes back to square one.  It often feels like you're moving ahead at a snail's pace.   

Perhaps the most difficult part is the feeling in your stomach when you know you should be overwhelmed for the joys of others, but feel like when you say it out loud, it seems like you're just pretending - like you're just following the script of social pleasantries.

Stay Strong.  Life will move on..eventually.

Applying a Notion

I just read the line "Why don't we just spell the word raspberry like razberry?" in a reply e-mail.  I'm pretty sure it's a good sign. 

This semester (as you may already be aware, and if not, you are now) I have been forced into taking the course "History of the English Language," which is less of a history lesson and more of a lesson in learning a new language with strange symbols and hard to pronounce vocabulary words. 

How does this relate to that sentence? ::taps foot::

Well lucky for you, I will now indulge you in a things-you-never-knew-and-will-probably-never-need-to lesson.  The word "razberry" is actually eye dialect.  I'd like to follow that up with an explanation, but unfortunately I haven't retained that information yet (which again, is lucky for you because my guess is that this is where you stop reading). 

Tada!  It's like a magic trick -- until next time.

Critical Review

After listening to the tape of my recent interview, several times, I have made a few crucial discoveries:

1.  I use the word "like" an inordinate amount of time
2.  My voice sounds much better in my head

3.  I am noticeably more funny in person, or on paper, either or

Call Me, Bob

The prevailing theme that I ascribe to as of late is the idea that "even Mother Theresa had haters;" a quote I discovered in an unlikely location - the pages of Women's Health.

The exact quote [in case you didn't click on the link] goes like this:

Being Disliked

"Instead of worrying about whether so-and-so likes you, ask yourself whether you like so-and-so. Hey, even Mother Teresa had haters."

I look to WH for many things, but life philosophy isn't generally one of them.  So imagine my pleasant surprise one evening flipping through the October (?) issue and coming across this gem of advice.  In fact, this might be one of the most intuitive thoughts-to-print I've even come across.  It seems like this is one of those common sensical positions that is put into words in such an ironic way that you can't help but read it twice - which I did, and then I read it an extra time for good measure [and tweeted it, plus made it my facebook status].  Overkill perhaps, but sharing is caring.

I'm sure you've already realized that people spend a more than necessary amount of time obsessing over social relations, or their lack thereof.  Even if you are someone who is generally liked, it is still plausible for there to be people who don't choose to jump on the bandwagon; and you just have to deal with it.  You, however, do not have to talk, text, tweet, blog about it.  People either will or won't like you either way.

Now some people may have an urge to argue with this logic - but it's really sound intelligence.  Clearly, in some cases you may influence the regards that people have toward you; but on most occasions, personal feelings aside, there is inexplicably and absolutely nothing in your arsenal of control to remedy ill will faced in your directions.

Remember, "Even Mother Teresa had haters!" and she is possibly a saint..and be comforted by that notion.