I am writing in response to a letter written in the 'Voice of the People' section of February 28th's Sports Section.
Jennifer Nunez writes that the oncoming storm of the Cubs season marks an uninvited separation between men and their significant others. While the Cubs do occupy a large strip of time, and stretch over a grueling 6+ month schedule, by no means can you call the other half the 'widowed.'
For thousands of men, the Cubs hold such a strong grip on our lives that yes, during that time, our daily life changes. MLB Gamecast shows up on our computer screens during work. Bank accounts feel the weight of inflated ticket prices. WGN finally has people watching it. But for the masses of Cubs fans, this does not upset the general flow of life.
Yes, 60 games in a season is on the excessive side. Season ticket holders stretch their relationships thin. But for the other 90% of Cubs fans, the change in our lifestyle only sways with final scores, injuries, and questionable coaching decisions. Relationships don't always strain throughout the season. Only the foolish hopefuls that hang their hats on 'believing' let the Cubbie Blue filter through their blood enough to creates widows out of wives.
While I love the Cubs, and baseball above everything, I have survived through relationships with this addiction. The answer comes to compromise. Compromising time spent in the stadium. Compromising night games for night dates. Compromise. But that goes both ways. Instead of wincing at post game interviews, learn the tidbits of baseball that make us love the game. Share something instead of letting something break you apart. Embrace the passion, don't bash the deepest thread in many of our lives.
Oh, and women love the Cubs too.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Petty Love
Day 2. Still nothing note worthy.
It's funny to think about your pets. In case you are reading this, and you don't actually own an animal, and never have, well, this may not apply. Check back tomorrow.
But now to explore. Pets come in many different varieties, we all know this. Currently my roommate has 3 little seahorses swimming around in our fish tank. Obviously, different pets provide you with different sets of pros and cons. This is not new stuff. If you hadn't noticed, this is a trend for me.
What I'm interested in is the long-term effect of a pet that holds a dear and exceedingly warm spot in your heart. A spot that, under circumstances, could never be replaced, or even compromised.
What is it about pets (and for the ease of this post, I will mainly be referring to the classic dogs and cats. sorry snake owners), but what is it that seems to hold something more powerful over us than our human counterparts? I have some theories.
Dependency: Our pets need us. Most of them will not survive without us. The owners. Obviously, we are not the only ones fit for the job, but that pet needs someone to put food in the bowl, the water in the bowl, and grab the poo out the box. Dogs get by on their own with that. So do we crave that dependency from an animal when we can't seem to find it from a human? I know firsthand what it feels like to never be a priority. To not be depended on. To your pet, this is never the case. Maybe that is enough.
Constant Companionship: There's no 'oh I hope she will be around today.' There's no guesswork. When you get home from work, it will be there. When you wake up hungover on a Saturday morning, it will be there. When you just got dumped, it will be there. When something happens that deserves to be on FML, it will still be there. This is a nice thing to have. And forgive me for calling all our pets "it"s, I really didn't feel like typing he or she everything, it would ruin my watery flow. Wait for that image to settle, aaaand, moving on.
Relentless Love: Maybe combining the first two, but your pet will love you no matter what. Your cat may resent you for moving away for a while, and be a little bitchy at first when you come home, but that cat still loves you. And thats not even *your* cat. That may just be the cat that kept you company during your childhood. But you could slap your cat, kick your dog, lock your pet outside overnight, forget to feed it for a few days, and it will still prefer your lap over anyone else. Obviously, I'm disregarding people who legitimately abuse their pets. They have no place in my post.
There seems to be a lot of evidence for why our pets deserve such a big piece of us. For why they hold a tighter grip on our lives than the people we come in contact with on a daily basis. Than the people we sleep with. Than the people we love. A pet, in many ways, sets the standard so high for other people that it makes it hard to find someone that works. This is a scary thought. I would tell you to blame your pet for this, but I can't, I love them too much.
I cannot wait to get one of my own.
PS How ridiculous is it when people carry on 'full' conversations with their pets?
It's funny to think about your pets. In case you are reading this, and you don't actually own an animal, and never have, well, this may not apply. Check back tomorrow.
But now to explore. Pets come in many different varieties, we all know this. Currently my roommate has 3 little seahorses swimming around in our fish tank. Obviously, different pets provide you with different sets of pros and cons. This is not new stuff. If you hadn't noticed, this is a trend for me.
What I'm interested in is the long-term effect of a pet that holds a dear and exceedingly warm spot in your heart. A spot that, under circumstances, could never be replaced, or even compromised.
What is it about pets (and for the ease of this post, I will mainly be referring to the classic dogs and cats. sorry snake owners), but what is it that seems to hold something more powerful over us than our human counterparts? I have some theories.
Dependency: Our pets need us. Most of them will not survive without us. The owners. Obviously, we are not the only ones fit for the job, but that pet needs someone to put food in the bowl, the water in the bowl, and grab the poo out the box. Dogs get by on their own with that. So do we crave that dependency from an animal when we can't seem to find it from a human? I know firsthand what it feels like to never be a priority. To not be depended on. To your pet, this is never the case. Maybe that is enough.
Constant Companionship: There's no 'oh I hope she will be around today.' There's no guesswork. When you get home from work, it will be there. When you wake up hungover on a Saturday morning, it will be there. When you just got dumped, it will be there. When something happens that deserves to be on FML, it will still be there. This is a nice thing to have. And forgive me for calling all our pets "it"s, I really didn't feel like typing he or she everything, it would ruin my watery flow. Wait for that image to settle, aaaand, moving on.
Relentless Love: Maybe combining the first two, but your pet will love you no matter what. Your cat may resent you for moving away for a while, and be a little bitchy at first when you come home, but that cat still loves you. And thats not even *your* cat. That may just be the cat that kept you company during your childhood. But you could slap your cat, kick your dog, lock your pet outside overnight, forget to feed it for a few days, and it will still prefer your lap over anyone else. Obviously, I'm disregarding people who legitimately abuse their pets. They have no place in my post.
There seems to be a lot of evidence for why our pets deserve such a big piece of us. For why they hold a tighter grip on our lives than the people we come in contact with on a daily basis. Than the people we sleep with. Than the people we love. A pet, in many ways, sets the standard so high for other people that it makes it hard to find someone that works. This is a scary thought. I would tell you to blame your pet for this, but I can't, I love them too much.
I cannot wait to get one of my own.
PS How ridiculous is it when people carry on 'full' conversations with their pets?
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Heed Your Own Advice
One day without swearing. Nothing changed. And no one noticed. So I got something else to write about.
For years, people have come to me for someone to talk to. This started back in my jr. high days. Mainly because I was too shy to talk to a lot of girls in school, so I would find them all online and chat. This trend continued for much of high school and into college. I was always more comfortable talking in qwerty form. Maybe because it gave me a chance to always think out what I would say, even if it wasn't always the right thing to say. Maybe it was because people didn't have to look at me when they talked. Maybe cuz people just knew where to find me, which made me feel welcome. Maybe not.
But for years I sat and listened (read) to kids that would confide in me, and depend on me to offer some sort of insight into a situation where they may have been a little too far in the forest to see the trees. I did a decent job in high school. A better job in college. In no attempt to sound vain, many people have told me that I give phenomenal advice. Once, a good friend had a friend with a problem. I had never met this girl. She told me her story. I analyzed the situation, and gave about a five minute recap of what I understood to be going on, and gave her some pretty sound words of advice. Not gonna lie, I am proud of this moment.
But there is a catch, There's always a catch.
Sometimes when you are so good at giving something to everyone else, you don't tend to keep any of it for yourself. Sometimes even when you seem to have all the answers, you can't find any to actually apply to your life.
Sometimes as often as someone says you have a talent, you can't buy into anything you're saying.
Sneaky foreshadowing aside, this is what seemed to happen in my life. As much as I could dish it out, I was never able to apply this 'advice to live by' to the life I was living. It was so easy to listen to some one's problems and address the leak in the dam. But when I got introspective, even if I had a good idea where the leak was, I never was able to plug it. I think that time is running out.
I'm finding my own footsteps these days. I mean, how could I continue to give people advice if I was never strong enough to follow the words I said. I was going to look up a Scrubs quote where Elliot says almost the same thing, but I couldn't find it and didn't want to burn too much time.
But I can honestly say that now, I am taking things one day at a time. I am staying out of my own head (and when I'm not, I know it, and admit I need to get out of there). I'm relaxing. I'm smiling more. I'm continuing to look at things from all angles. I'm trying reeeally hard to not look too closely at everything... forgetting what I learned in school. After being taught for years to pull as much as I could out of as little as I see, and even trying to do that as I write, sometimes you need to step back from the art. Chuck Palahniuk says "the trick to forgetting the big picture is to look at everything close up." Well the trick to forgetting everything close up is looking at the big picture.
So while it may be so hard to heed your own advice, I can tell you, after years, I am finally falling into line. And the payoff is lucrative.
For years, people have come to me for someone to talk to. This started back in my jr. high days. Mainly because I was too shy to talk to a lot of girls in school, so I would find them all online and chat. This trend continued for much of high school and into college. I was always more comfortable talking in qwerty form. Maybe because it gave me a chance to always think out what I would say, even if it wasn't always the right thing to say. Maybe it was because people didn't have to look at me when they talked. Maybe cuz people just knew where to find me, which made me feel welcome. Maybe not.
But for years I sat and listened (read) to kids that would confide in me, and depend on me to offer some sort of insight into a situation where they may have been a little too far in the forest to see the trees. I did a decent job in high school. A better job in college. In no attempt to sound vain, many people have told me that I give phenomenal advice. Once, a good friend had a friend with a problem. I had never met this girl. She told me her story. I analyzed the situation, and gave about a five minute recap of what I understood to be going on, and gave her some pretty sound words of advice. Not gonna lie, I am proud of this moment.
But there is a catch, There's always a catch.
Sometimes when you are so good at giving something to everyone else, you don't tend to keep any of it for yourself. Sometimes even when you seem to have all the answers, you can't find any to actually apply to your life.
Sometimes as often as someone says you have a talent, you can't buy into anything you're saying.
Sneaky foreshadowing aside, this is what seemed to happen in my life. As much as I could dish it out, I was never able to apply this 'advice to live by' to the life I was living. It was so easy to listen to some one's problems and address the leak in the dam. But when I got introspective, even if I had a good idea where the leak was, I never was able to plug it. I think that time is running out.
I'm finding my own footsteps these days. I mean, how could I continue to give people advice if I was never strong enough to follow the words I said. I was going to look up a Scrubs quote where Elliot says almost the same thing, but I couldn't find it and didn't want to burn too much time.
But I can honestly say that now, I am taking things one day at a time. I am staying out of my own head (and when I'm not, I know it, and admit I need to get out of there). I'm relaxing. I'm smiling more. I'm continuing to look at things from all angles. I'm trying reeeally hard to not look too closely at everything... forgetting what I learned in school. After being taught for years to pull as much as I could out of as little as I see, and even trying to do that as I write, sometimes you need to step back from the art. Chuck Palahniuk says "the trick to forgetting the big picture is to look at everything close up." Well the trick to forgetting everything close up is looking at the big picture.
So while it may be so hard to heed your own advice, I can tell you, after years, I am finally falling into line. And the payoff is lucrative.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
*%#^ing Lent
So, I like the idea of lent. I like the true idea for the wrong reasons. Meaning, I feel like giving up something that you crave, something you thought you couldn't live without, turning yourself into a tortured soul, burning for your sins, and trudging through the 40-some-odd days, does less to make you a better person as much as it does boost your self esteem, knowing you had the strength to get through it. And most likely binge like woah once Easter hits. Is that healthy? Maybe. But it makes you feel like you accomplished something. And who doesn't enjoy the feeling of accomplishment?
But I am looking at this from a different perspective. I have partaken in lent before, mainly as a part of a buddy system, 'I'll give this up with you as your moral strength,' type thing. But these days, I'm more interested in the social/literary experiment of it all. So I started brainstorming. Not something so necessary in my life that giving it up would be life-altering, since, who wants to do that? I am more interested in seeing how something less than essential would resonate in my every day life. But since that is not very impressive, I decided to take on two. Yes. Two.
I thought about giving up eating out for dinner. But would just mean more of a healthier life while seeing my friends less. No one wants that. I thought about giving up Facebook, but anyone reading this that knows me knows this isn't possible. Nor would it make much of a commentary. I thought about giving up lying. Then I thought about giving up the truth. But once someone finds out about something like that, it throws everything off. And since I wanted to write this very blog post about my sacrifice, that couldn't work. I thought about giving up Purgatory, but why ruin a good thing?
So I settled on this:
I will give up swearing. Or cussing. Or however you want to describe it. I have a bit of a loose tongue, and I think it might make some of a difference to get away from that for a while. Maybe it will fit into my new found country lifestyle. Maybe it will affect me for longer than 40 days. Maybe people will laugh more hearing that I want to picrackle their jabangbang. Who knows. But I am excited.
In addition, I am giving up approximately one hour of free time, most commonly translated as TV time, to sit down and write in this thing. Hopefully about some occurrence including my lack of cursing, but also ranging on a slew of topics.
So there you have it. 40 Days of me (apparently they don't count Sundays in lent, who knew... I guess I could have picked Purg). 40 consecutive days of my wandering thought tangents, new experiences, and maybe, just maybe, something worth talking about.
Enjoy.
But I am looking at this from a different perspective. I have partaken in lent before, mainly as a part of a buddy system, 'I'll give this up with you as your moral strength,' type thing. But these days, I'm more interested in the social/literary experiment of it all. So I started brainstorming. Not something so necessary in my life that giving it up would be life-altering, since, who wants to do that? I am more interested in seeing how something less than essential would resonate in my every day life. But since that is not very impressive, I decided to take on two. Yes. Two.
I thought about giving up eating out for dinner. But would just mean more of a healthier life while seeing my friends less. No one wants that. I thought about giving up Facebook, but anyone reading this that knows me knows this isn't possible. Nor would it make much of a commentary. I thought about giving up lying. Then I thought about giving up the truth. But once someone finds out about something like that, it throws everything off. And since I wanted to write this very blog post about my sacrifice, that couldn't work. I thought about giving up Purgatory, but why ruin a good thing?
So I settled on this:
I will give up swearing. Or cussing. Or however you want to describe it. I have a bit of a loose tongue, and I think it might make some of a difference to get away from that for a while. Maybe it will fit into my new found country lifestyle. Maybe it will affect me for longer than 40 days. Maybe people will laugh more hearing that I want to picrackle their jabangbang. Who knows. But I am excited.
In addition, I am giving up approximately one hour of free time, most commonly translated as TV time, to sit down and write in this thing. Hopefully about some occurrence including my lack of cursing, but also ranging on a slew of topics.
So there you have it. 40 Days of me (apparently they don't count Sundays in lent, who knew... I guess I could have picked Purg). 40 consecutive days of my wandering thought tangents, new experiences, and maybe, just maybe, something worth talking about.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Celebrity Bassion
So i watched most of the oscars on Sunday. I didn't have much else going on. The beer and pizza from earlier were wearing off. My friends had all retired back to my apartment. My only company included the bartender, Nikki, and the ex-head chef, current bartender, recently off-duty Drew. I was drinking ice water. We were watching the oscars.
Now I wasn't in a completely me state. It had been a long weekend. I had just dominated some games of Golden Tee. But for some reason, something really struck me about the oscars this time around. And it's not that, what I noticed, is something new that I look for in life, but maybe it was something that I needed to feel now more than ever. Maybe now, after a few years, I am more keen to picking it up, or am starting to find it in places I hadn't normally looked, but it was ever-present on Sunday night. And it struck such a deep cord in me.
Of course, I am talking about Passion.
Usually, I am the first to turn an eye away from celebrities. I don't have much of an attachment to watching, reading, or listening to the monotonous squandering, extravagent lifestyles, and meandering daily routines of those that have obtained celebrity status. Much. I've been known to catch an article or two, but many people know of my distaste for Access Hollywood and TMZ. And how baffled I am at people that are so caught up in these spotlight creatures. Just cuz they hit it big, found a break, and made it onto the screen, or radio, or field, they suddenly have more answers than I do? How does that work?
So while I harbor this mild contempt for the walking glitter of those that we call famous, I realized that they aren't so different than who we all are. I could go on and talk about circles of friends, inside jokes, awkward families, and bad breakups, but it rang truest with passion.
I saw such a strong admiration between everyone nominated, everyone on stage, everyone in the audience. I saw a legitimate outpouring of emotion during acceptance speeches. I saw the raw appreciation for Heath Ledger. I also love the Dark Knight.
But I've been seeing this absolute display of passion everywhere. Suffocating hugs. Inadvertant tears. Soulful lyrics. Being left speechless. All of it. It comes out so regularly. It ends without notice. Like this.
Now I wasn't in a completely me state. It had been a long weekend. I had just dominated some games of Golden Tee. But for some reason, something really struck me about the oscars this time around. And it's not that, what I noticed, is something new that I look for in life, but maybe it was something that I needed to feel now more than ever. Maybe now, after a few years, I am more keen to picking it up, or am starting to find it in places I hadn't normally looked, but it was ever-present on Sunday night. And it struck such a deep cord in me.
Of course, I am talking about Passion.
Usually, I am the first to turn an eye away from celebrities. I don't have much of an attachment to watching, reading, or listening to the monotonous squandering, extravagent lifestyles, and meandering daily routines of those that have obtained celebrity status. Much. I've been known to catch an article or two, but many people know of my distaste for Access Hollywood and TMZ. And how baffled I am at people that are so caught up in these spotlight creatures. Just cuz they hit it big, found a break, and made it onto the screen, or radio, or field, they suddenly have more answers than I do? How does that work?
So while I harbor this mild contempt for the walking glitter of those that we call famous, I realized that they aren't so different than who we all are. I could go on and talk about circles of friends, inside jokes, awkward families, and bad breakups, but it rang truest with passion.
I saw such a strong admiration between everyone nominated, everyone on stage, everyone in the audience. I saw a legitimate outpouring of emotion during acceptance speeches. I saw the raw appreciation for Heath Ledger. I also love the Dark Knight.
But I've been seeing this absolute display of passion everywhere. Suffocating hugs. Inadvertant tears. Soulful lyrics. Being left speechless. All of it. It comes out so regularly. It ends without notice. Like this.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Compromise, Yo
So I consider myself 'on the dating scene.' This should not surprise anyone reading this. Hoping to generalize without offending anyone, you tend to invariably brush through a checklist upon meeting someone new, wondering if, in the brief or telling instance you have met, whether or not this person could, or would, stack up to whatever set of wishful requirements you have applied to a future significant other.
That winded sentence meant that early on, you tend judge people on whether or not you can date them.
I don't suppose this is uncommon. So I don't plan on explaining this. It happens. But sometimes, I think we forget what we are looking for. How many people in relationships can honestly say that their partner fits every note on the bill? None. Sorry.
So while I sit here, after just finishing working at my friends' place cuz my internet got screwy, I have realized a few things. I think that when it comes down to it, and I think about a future with someone, we don't have to listen to the same music, we just have to be able to listen to the same music. We don't have to watch the same movies, we just have to be able to watch the same movies. We don't have even have to believe in the same things, we just need to be tolerant of each other's beliefs.
This may not seem like a new idea. And I'm pretty sure its not. But I just don't want to try to find someone that listens to Machine Head and watches 24 and loves Kevin Smith movies while knowing what a successful hit and run looks like along with the difference between a dopple and a triple, cuz after years of unsuccessful looking, I'll realize the only thing I missed out on was the fun of trying new things and discussing different tastes.
But I really hope shes a Cubs fan.
That winded sentence meant that early on, you tend judge people on whether or not you can date them.
I don't suppose this is uncommon. So I don't plan on explaining this. It happens. But sometimes, I think we forget what we are looking for. How many people in relationships can honestly say that their partner fits every note on the bill? None. Sorry.
So while I sit here, after just finishing working at my friends' place cuz my internet got screwy, I have realized a few things. I think that when it comes down to it, and I think about a future with someone, we don't have to listen to the same music, we just have to be able to listen to the same music. We don't have to watch the same movies, we just have to be able to watch the same movies. We don't have even have to believe in the same things, we just need to be tolerant of each other's beliefs.
This may not seem like a new idea. And I'm pretty sure its not. But I just don't want to try to find someone that listens to Machine Head and watches 24 and loves Kevin Smith movies while knowing what a successful hit and run looks like along with the difference between a dopple and a triple, cuz after years of unsuccessful looking, I'll realize the only thing I missed out on was the fun of trying new things and discussing different tastes.
But I really hope shes a Cubs fan.
Monday, February 16, 2009
214
So, 214 came and went again. My day didn't quite fit the mold of a standard valentines day evening, but everyone I was with (the five of us) had a smashing time, and I am very pleased that weeks of planning came together in some sort of mix of movies, music, delicious food, and of course, champagne for days. For the record, Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) may go down as one of the top 3 music videos of all time.
Now we ended up in this 214 marathon more or less due to the usual 'angst:' with one boyfriend out of town, and 4 other singles, why not pool our efforts into one day of group bliss instead of writhing our emotions and desperately trying to blend in with the flower-giving, and -getting, world. Don't matching sweatpants, Journey DVDs, and 3 bowls of mac n cheese sound better anyways?
Now, I used the word angst. But really, there wasn't a whole lot of bitterness against the relationship world. We just deemed the comforts of the indoors a better alternative than trying too hard for people we don't really care about to a ends that we didn't really need. Plus, again, Journey.
So while our little party didn't fit the bill, I still was planning on using this form to diminish the rosy holiday that is February 14th by mocking all the ball droppers and slack sliders that use 1 day a year to scrape their rough surface deep enough to pull out... a wallet. to pay for pre-written words. and a dozen roses. maybe some chocolate. questionable jewelry.
Don't get me wrong, I laugh at this wilted attempt to prove one's love, or liking, or crush, but at the same time, why do I? Sure, if you care about someone, you shouldn't need the scapegoat (Hallmark) to be around to tell you when to do it, what to give, and how to say it. But not all people are the same. Many people have hard times expressing something as serious as love. Or like. Or crush. Maybe Valentine's Day gives the hopeless masses a means to get to a better end rather than wallowing in missed opportunities. Maybe Hallmark's nudge is enough to get people to realize that the apple of your eye deserves a little special attention. Or maybe, that foggy morning that you got a delivery, 24 stunning flowers, with a card saying 'this is only the beginning," was enough to leave you breathless, if only for a moment. Maybe these little reminders and hints and flashes of time are worth the sappy beatings that pop culture can be guilty of.
Above all, maybe these times spent rejecting the very ideals of such a day only do more to spawn hate than they do to spread love.
And while I wasn't scratching the dance floors with a sweetie of my own, we five from the 214 crew spread love among us, splashed it on the walls, rose it in ovens, sang it off-key, uncorked it, laughed it, and crashed it, to warm feelings and general content for life and the ones we choose to share it with. That's all the Valentines I need.
Now we ended up in this 214 marathon more or less due to the usual 'angst:' with one boyfriend out of town, and 4 other singles, why not pool our efforts into one day of group bliss instead of writhing our emotions and desperately trying to blend in with the flower-giving, and -getting, world. Don't matching sweatpants, Journey DVDs, and 3 bowls of mac n cheese sound better anyways?
Now, I used the word angst. But really, there wasn't a whole lot of bitterness against the relationship world. We just deemed the comforts of the indoors a better alternative than trying too hard for people we don't really care about to a ends that we didn't really need. Plus, again, Journey.
So while our little party didn't fit the bill, I still was planning on using this form to diminish the rosy holiday that is February 14th by mocking all the ball droppers and slack sliders that use 1 day a year to scrape their rough surface deep enough to pull out... a wallet. to pay for pre-written words. and a dozen roses. maybe some chocolate. questionable jewelry.
Don't get me wrong, I laugh at this wilted attempt to prove one's love, or liking, or crush, but at the same time, why do I? Sure, if you care about someone, you shouldn't need the scapegoat (Hallmark) to be around to tell you when to do it, what to give, and how to say it. But not all people are the same. Many people have hard times expressing something as serious as love. Or like. Or crush. Maybe Valentine's Day gives the hopeless masses a means to get to a better end rather than wallowing in missed opportunities. Maybe Hallmark's nudge is enough to get people to realize that the apple of your eye deserves a little special attention. Or maybe, that foggy morning that you got a delivery, 24 stunning flowers, with a card saying 'this is only the beginning," was enough to leave you breathless, if only for a moment. Maybe these little reminders and hints and flashes of time are worth the sappy beatings that pop culture can be guilty of.
Above all, maybe these times spent rejecting the very ideals of such a day only do more to spawn hate than they do to spread love.
And while I wasn't scratching the dance floors with a sweetie of my own, we five from the 214 crew spread love among us, splashed it on the walls, rose it in ovens, sang it off-key, uncorked it, laughed it, and crashed it, to warm feelings and general content for life and the ones we choose to share it with. That's all the Valentines I need.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Rhetorical Romance
Sorry I have been gone for so long. I would say it's because I've been busy, and I have been for the most part, but its more that I haven't actually set aside time to write. And am still searching for something to write about. So we'll see where this goes.
Is it possible to have unbiased feelings for someone? My mind just shot through hundreds of threads and directions that this could incorporate, but I don't know if I have the patience to explore everything at this juncture.
The comment was driven by the idea that extensive feelings don't grow until you find out how the other person feels. So I guess 'unbiased' was the wrong word, but maybe uninfluenced, or single-sided, or maybe i should just explain it better.
Cause I'm not talking about someone's action being the deciding factor. But imagine observing someone from afar. Not stalking dammit. But seeing coworkers, classmates, bar-goers. And over time, acknowledging that 'time' is a very loosey goosey term, but over time you start to form ideas, opinions, and if appropriate, feelings. To focus, I am speaking about someone that you could possibly have romantic interest in. So if you take this person in their image, how they interact, how they present themselves, and start to pay attention to smaller details of every day life, you might, once again, over 'time,' fall into some sort of crush/like/minor infatuation. This is not uncommon. I have now adequately described something that pretty much everyone has done, and didn't need explaining, but now I can move forward.
Do these feelings hold any sort of weight when this object of your affection informs you of what they think about the situation? Since I am wildly tired of saying 'they,' I will use a not real, fake, faux example: me as the eye, and a 'she' as the 'focus.'
So I see a girl. I go through everything I just explained. I form feelings. Feelings appear. Feelings mature. However you would like to see the feelings arrive on the scene, there they are. Do they shatter when I find out that she has no romantic interest in me? Do they have to? Is it inevitable to morph my feelings in order to fall in line with this woman? If so, is that fair?
If I like a girl, and she doesn't like me, then I compromise by coming back down to her level of interest, just to make things comfortable? A.) what does that say about my feelings to begin with, and B.) why am I the one that has to compromise?
Which brings me to the alternative. If I have minimal to neutral feelings for someone, but then find out that a girl is crushing on me, does my view of her change? Isn't it natural to? Is this just a case of liking out of your league: thinking the people that like you probably can't do any better, but the people you like would be the best you can find... leading you to quickly stunt recent growing feelings of a crush, but allow new feelings to grow for someone you may never have thought about romantically?
How many relationships start this way? How many relationships are still this way? Does your appreciation for someone depend on their appreciation for you? Is it possible to have legitimate one-sided feelings, besides weathered puppy crushes that plagued most of my teen years?
Honestly, this scares me. It makes it a little harder to A.) recognize how many of my own feelings are true, proven, and unequivocal, and B.) distinguish between someone else's pure feelings for me. This muddled mix oft does not equate, sparking a constant search for missing balance (you knew it was coming). Or an endless search for the perfect balance, resulting in decades of 'never quite good enoughs.' Doesn't this scare you?
Officially, I asked 17 rhetorical questions in that mess.
Is it possible to have unbiased feelings for someone? My mind just shot through hundreds of threads and directions that this could incorporate, but I don't know if I have the patience to explore everything at this juncture.
The comment was driven by the idea that extensive feelings don't grow until you find out how the other person feels. So I guess 'unbiased' was the wrong word, but maybe uninfluenced, or single-sided, or maybe i should just explain it better.
Cause I'm not talking about someone's action being the deciding factor. But imagine observing someone from afar. Not stalking dammit. But seeing coworkers, classmates, bar-goers. And over time, acknowledging that 'time' is a very loosey goosey term, but over time you start to form ideas, opinions, and if appropriate, feelings. To focus, I am speaking about someone that you could possibly have romantic interest in. So if you take this person in their image, how they interact, how they present themselves, and start to pay attention to smaller details of every day life, you might, once again, over 'time,' fall into some sort of crush/like/minor infatuation. This is not uncommon. I have now adequately described something that pretty much everyone has done, and didn't need explaining, but now I can move forward.
Do these feelings hold any sort of weight when this object of your affection informs you of what they think about the situation? Since I am wildly tired of saying 'they,' I will use a not real, fake, faux example: me as the eye, and a 'she' as the 'focus.'
So I see a girl. I go through everything I just explained. I form feelings. Feelings appear. Feelings mature. However you would like to see the feelings arrive on the scene, there they are. Do they shatter when I find out that she has no romantic interest in me? Do they have to? Is it inevitable to morph my feelings in order to fall in line with this woman? If so, is that fair?
If I like a girl, and she doesn't like me, then I compromise by coming back down to her level of interest, just to make things comfortable? A.) what does that say about my feelings to begin with, and B.) why am I the one that has to compromise?
Which brings me to the alternative. If I have minimal to neutral feelings for someone, but then find out that a girl is crushing on me, does my view of her change? Isn't it natural to? Is this just a case of liking out of your league: thinking the people that like you probably can't do any better, but the people you like would be the best you can find... leading you to quickly stunt recent growing feelings of a crush, but allow new feelings to grow for someone you may never have thought about romantically?
How many relationships start this way? How many relationships are still this way? Does your appreciation for someone depend on their appreciation for you? Is it possible to have legitimate one-sided feelings, besides weathered puppy crushes that plagued most of my teen years?
Honestly, this scares me. It makes it a little harder to A.) recognize how many of my own feelings are true, proven, and unequivocal, and B.) distinguish between someone else's pure feelings for me. This muddled mix oft does not equate, sparking a constant search for missing balance (you knew it was coming). Or an endless search for the perfect balance, resulting in decades of 'never quite good enoughs.' Doesn't this scare you?
Officially, I asked 17 rhetorical questions in that mess.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Heated Argument
So, people that know me know this: I tend to argue a lot. There aren't many comments that go by where I just say, 'yeah, ya know. you're right.' This leads most people to believe that I am an asshole. That I can't let someone be right. That no matter what the subject is, my opinion will differ from yours, and my opinion is right. Even if that's usually true (cough cough), I recently realized what the rooted inspiration is behind my disagreeable nature. Interested? You have to keep reading.
Last night, someone told me she hated, hated, burning her tongue, explaining how the burn seems to last forever, and since you use your tongue for so many things, it affects a large portion of your daily life. Who wouldn't agree with this? What sane person would hear a perfectly logical and agreeable comment and think, 'well actually...'. Was I just trying to pick a fight?
I start by disagreeing. *gasp* I say that the pain in the tongue lasts about as long as most pains. That, depending on your situation or activity, some pains or injuries can affect daily life much more: a sprained ankle for a mail person, a broken finger for a stenographer, etc. Some (like me) would call this engaging in conversation. Most people call this being annoying. This I know. People tell me these things.
But here I am to solve the mysteryyy! (said like 'but here i am to save the daaaaayyy. try it. now.)
I actually agree with said 'burning tongue' comment. There's nothing worse than taking the first bite of that delicious looking pizza, only to have some disproportionately steaming slop of sauce squirt aimlessly through your mouth, ultimately landing on the pitchers mound of the baseball field that is your tongue. Ruins the rest of the meal. And the next 8. Cold drinks hurt. Warm foods seam flaming. Talking makes you feel dumb.
So then why disagree? Just for conversation? NO! Well kinda.
I fall back on this inane desire to look at everything from more than one angle. Toss out some cliches, and they apply. Nothing is what it seems. Two sides to every story. Whatever. But my goal is usually to unground and uproot people that are so caught in their own opinions and ideas that they don't realize that there are some other completely plausible and logical answers out there. I'm not here to tell you what is right. I'm just telling you that you may not be right. Even if I agree with you. Because believing everything you think, is a slippery slope. It could be something big, like generalizations about an entire demographic. Or it could be something small, like 'is bruning your tongue really all that bad?' But attaching yourself to something leaves you unbalanced. And, yes, you guessed it, I can bring this back to balance. Always hearing the other story keeps your weight over both feet. Even someone like me, who, through being a pitcher, learned unbelievable strength and balance on one leg (my right, obviously), it starts by keeping your weight centered.
ADDENDUM: Dictionary.com Word of the Day for 2/12 - froward: willfully contrary.
I am Froward.
Last night, someone told me she hated, hated, burning her tongue, explaining how the burn seems to last forever, and since you use your tongue for so many things, it affects a large portion of your daily life. Who wouldn't agree with this? What sane person would hear a perfectly logical and agreeable comment and think, 'well actually...'. Was I just trying to pick a fight?
I start by disagreeing. *gasp* I say that the pain in the tongue lasts about as long as most pains. That, depending on your situation or activity, some pains or injuries can affect daily life much more: a sprained ankle for a mail person, a broken finger for a stenographer, etc. Some (like me) would call this engaging in conversation. Most people call this being annoying. This I know. People tell me these things.
But here I am to solve the mysteryyy! (said like 'but here i am to save the daaaaayyy. try it. now.)
I actually agree with said 'burning tongue' comment. There's nothing worse than taking the first bite of that delicious looking pizza, only to have some disproportionately steaming slop of sauce squirt aimlessly through your mouth, ultimately landing on the pitchers mound of the baseball field that is your tongue. Ruins the rest of the meal. And the next 8. Cold drinks hurt. Warm foods seam flaming. Talking makes you feel dumb.
So then why disagree? Just for conversation? NO! Well kinda.
I fall back on this inane desire to look at everything from more than one angle. Toss out some cliches, and they apply. Nothing is what it seems. Two sides to every story. Whatever. But my goal is usually to unground and uproot people that are so caught in their own opinions and ideas that they don't realize that there are some other completely plausible and logical answers out there. I'm not here to tell you what is right. I'm just telling you that you may not be right. Even if I agree with you. Because believing everything you think, is a slippery slope. It could be something big, like generalizations about an entire demographic. Or it could be something small, like 'is bruning your tongue really all that bad?' But attaching yourself to something leaves you unbalanced. And, yes, you guessed it, I can bring this back to balance. Always hearing the other story keeps your weight over both feet. Even someone like me, who, through being a pitcher, learned unbelievable strength and balance on one leg (my right, obviously), it starts by keeping your weight centered.
ADDENDUM: Dictionary.com Word of the Day for 2/12 - froward: willfully contrary.
I am Froward.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
A Super Night
I'm a sports guy. Not the sports guy. Not someone overly immersed in stats. I don't subscribe to TV sport packages. I have a general distaste for several kinds of sports. Unless I'm around my dad, I don't listen to sportstalk radio. I don't go to many games. And the only jersey's I wear are my own from previous playing years.
That being said, I like sports. Probably more than most of the people I hang out with or see at work. It's a pretty 'techy' place, but regardless, I watch, listen to, and can talk about a pretty wide range of athletics. Obviously, there's a hierarchy: MLB, College Basketball, College Football, NFL, NBA Playoffs, Hockey, Etc.
But what I've started to realize is how much a sport is about the social aspect as opposed to the appreciation of physical greatness. Aside from baseball, the sport I played for thirteen years, and from Illinois, the school I went to for 4 years, my royalties aren't too rooted. Yes, I'm a Bears fan, and Bulls fan, and Hawks fan, and a general fan of all sports, but the competition itself is not what draws me. And this all culminated two days ago.
The night of the Super Bowl.
Some sports media members have proclaimed it the best super bowl game in history. Ever. It gets two weeks of coverage. Million dollar ads. Icy pregame parties. The top of the Hollywood crop.
Yet I had more fun talking with my friends at a bar. I watched a good chunk of the game... while I was playing golden tee, eating pizza, playing music, telling stories, and meeting new people. I saw the last 4 or 5 drives, and got pretty excited. But at some point, the game starts to not matter. Sure, it was nifty athleticism, gutsy performances, and mammoth receivers, but the bigger impact on my life was the people that were with me. I was with 20 of my nearest and dearest. That fact, and nothing else, was the reason I had a blast for 5 hours on a sunday night. I didn't even hear Bruce Springsteen, cuz 'Who Let the Dogs Out' was blasting on the juke box, and I couldn't stop laughing.
So thanks, Super Bowl, for getting everyone out on a Sunday. I recently commented that this most popular single event in America should be played out on a Saturday, but now, after experiencing it one more time and seeing the aftermath, I love the event where it is, whether a game is played or not. Here's to Irish Car Bombs at 10:30pm on a Sunday.
That being said, I like sports. Probably more than most of the people I hang out with or see at work. It's a pretty 'techy' place, but regardless, I watch, listen to, and can talk about a pretty wide range of athletics. Obviously, there's a hierarchy: MLB, College Basketball, College Football, NFL, NBA Playoffs, Hockey, Etc.
But what I've started to realize is how much a sport is about the social aspect as opposed to the appreciation of physical greatness. Aside from baseball, the sport I played for thirteen years, and from Illinois, the school I went to for 4 years, my royalties aren't too rooted. Yes, I'm a Bears fan, and Bulls fan, and Hawks fan, and a general fan of all sports, but the competition itself is not what draws me. And this all culminated two days ago.
The night of the Super Bowl.
Some sports media members have proclaimed it the best super bowl game in history. Ever. It gets two weeks of coverage. Million dollar ads. Icy pregame parties. The top of the Hollywood crop.
Yet I had more fun talking with my friends at a bar. I watched a good chunk of the game... while I was playing golden tee, eating pizza, playing music, telling stories, and meeting new people. I saw the last 4 or 5 drives, and got pretty excited. But at some point, the game starts to not matter. Sure, it was nifty athleticism, gutsy performances, and mammoth receivers, but the bigger impact on my life was the people that were with me. I was with 20 of my nearest and dearest. That fact, and nothing else, was the reason I had a blast for 5 hours on a sunday night. I didn't even hear Bruce Springsteen, cuz 'Who Let the Dogs Out' was blasting on the juke box, and I couldn't stop laughing.
So thanks, Super Bowl, for getting everyone out on a Sunday. I recently commented that this most popular single event in America should be played out on a Saturday, but now, after experiencing it one more time and seeing the aftermath, I love the event where it is, whether a game is played or not. Here's to Irish Car Bombs at 10:30pm on a Sunday.
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