Saturday Nights

It’s not uncommon to find yourself shying away from the at times exhausting lifestyle that most of us grew accustomed to during and recently after our college years, chalk full of day-drinking, middle of the night meanderings, somewhere between disturbing and impressive consecutive nights partying streaks, and everything in between, as you settle into your mid-twenties, and instead, and with increasing regularity, prefer the cocoon of your couch, the warmth of a steaming, non-alcoholic drink, and the shear amazement that accompanies hangover-free Sunday mornings. Given that I’ve recently begun my descent of the famed ‘Twenties Mountain,’ I can attest to, while I’m sure less frequently than most, opting to ‘sacrifice’ a night of my weekend to watch some bad movies, stay up late knowing my body won’t hate me in the morning, and never quite finding motivation to wear anything besides sweatpants and a hoodie. More times than not, I’m merely not actively seeking plans, as opposed to dodging or skipping out on any previously discussed options for weekend excursions. I was faced with one of these such occasions last weekend.

I ended 2010 with a flurry of activity, and started 2011 even crazier. Vacations, holidays, parties, projects, banquets; it seemed like I didn’t take a break. So when the last weekend of February was finally rolling around, there was a moderate portion of me that was legitimately looking forward to my normal, fun Friday night, then casually doing absolutely nothing the rest of the weekend. Throughout the day, as names, numbers, texts, and phone calls built up, little fragments of plans and semblances of ideas were leaving my evening in flux. After a delicious dinner, I settled on my couch, waiting for plans to reveal themselves, caught between not feeling like going out and not wanting to waste a weekend. Don’t get me wrong, as surprisingly rewarding and refreshing a Saturday night in sweatpants can be, I still look at weekends in the same, if not slightly brighter light that I used to when partying was an elevated concern. I don’t like to let the day of the week define my mood, but there is no arguing the fun that going out on the weekend is compared to a week night.

The night lumbered on, hours flicking from 7 to 8, 8 to 9, with no overly desirable option presenting itself, which, as this state in my night, I would have needed. Until a text. One of my best friends, who I hadn’t seen in a while, wasn’t able to join me out the night before due to work, so was pretty dead set on going out with her roommate, and was open to suggestion. While slightly leery at first, I decided to toss out a suggestion and claim that I was also wanting to go out. Still unshowered, unbuzzed, and unvertical, but not unmotivated, I got my shit together, had a few cocktails, and got my ass down to Lincoln Park.

My story isn’t that interesting, but reasoning for telling you is. If an opportunity to do something fun with someone you care about, there’s no reason you can’t find the motivation. This might sound like I’m saying you should go drinking instead of staying in, but I used broke that down in an attempt to show a real life example. Drinking does not have to be the catalyst. I’ve realized that I tend to see a lot of the same people so much more frequently than the other 95% of my friends. No insult to them, of course, or I wouldn’t continue this trend, but there is something to be said about seeing a wider sampling of people you consider to be friends, and especially those that are closer to you than the rest. I think I fall into a bad habit of taking for granted what was always so easy in the past. Whether we were going to school together, or living in the same dorm, or having the same home room teacher, or growing up down the street, it has been inherently accessible and realistically convenient to continually see a wide range of people. Now? It’s easier than ever to keep up to date on their lives, assuming they’re newsfeedians, but besides that, it’s easier and easier to take a few nights off to recharge the battery.

Is it simply because we’re getting older? The stress and strain and pain we’ve been putting our bodies through for the last 6+ years is catching up, and now, without a little soul nurturing, our glow will surely fade? I don’t know. I’ve seen some 50-year-olds that bring it harder and party longer every weekend, all summer. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with ignoring a few texts on a Saturday night and catching up on some sleep, but If you’re only doing it because you think you have to, go ahead and respond to a friend reaching out to you. It might not turn out to be the life-altering, story-generating, memory-engraving adventure you embark on this year, but given a chance to see one or two people that you truly care about, even regardless of how long it’s been, can make the few hours of missed sleep as trivial as bats with glasses.

The Burning Point

A friend of mine once told me her favorite book was Fahrenheit 451, a book she, and many others, read in high school. Reading has been kind of hit or miss for me since I first started. If I had enough interest, I was a pretty efficient reader, but if it was something forced on me, or even something chosen from a very small selection, it was easy for me to reject. I would plow through Goosebumps books faster than I could afford to buy them (Monster Blood!), then I would struggle to comprehend one chapter of something required for a book report. Didn’t stop in Jr. High, high school, or college. I know what you’re all thinking, ‘but weren’t you an English major?’ Yep. Just a really clever one. What happens after I graduate? Well, I’ve read more books, cover to cover, in the 4 years since I graduated than the 10 years I was being forced to read in school. The most recent completion is Fahrenheit 451.

Besides now knowing how to spell Fahrenheit without looking it up, I learned a lot while also enjoying it. The initial premise from my friend intrigued me (a bunch of firefighters that start fires instead of put them out), but the takeaway was drastically different than I anticipated. I was never required to read the Ray Bradbury classic in high school, so the experience was completely fresh. Long story short, I encourage you all to read it, if you haven’t already. But clearly, ‘long story short’ is not the making of my writing. The point for this is, even if you have read it, I encourage you to reread it.

Fahrenheit 451 was a great read, once I had the environment to dedicate some time to it (like my car breaking down and taking 3 hours of public transportation a day). But the truth of the matter is, I wouldn’t have appreciated it, at all, if this happened ten years ago, and for two reasons. The first was already touched on, assuming the only reason I picked up the 1953 sensation was because my Sophomore year English professor had an entire unit dedicated to dystopias and made us read, discuss, analyze, write, and eventually prove our knowledge of the book through a series of classroom quizzes and discussions. Needless to say, I believe this can take away from some of the excitement of reading a book. Sorry, but if I had to break down and analyze everything I watched, read, or listened to, nothing would ever feel exciting.

The second reason I might not have reacted the same way ten years ago compared to how I felt this afternoon is because, well quite obviously, it was ten years ago, so I was only fifteen, didn’t know shit about shit, and most assuredly would have scoffed at the symbolism laced between the lines, half for a lack of understanding the depth, and half because I probably wouldn’t have agree. At fifteen, we’re highly influenced beings. But I’m sure it wasn’t the protagonist in the Grapes of Wrath that got us nicknames in high school. And I’m sure it was the author of some seemingly dated book using archaic language and bewildering analogies. At least for me, my influences came from musicians and athletes and celebrities, so what did literature have to offer? Writers and characters. Doesn’t quite hold a candle to what the rest of the world can offer. Playing football might make you more popular, or introduce you to more like-minded classmates, but even the sweetest character in the world was only so amazing between your ears. It’s like trying to describe someone how life-changing your dream was: there’s no way you convince someone of something they’ve never heard of or experienced.

This isn’t a plea for you to read more, claiming the swell of knowledge will pay off tenfold compared to the mindless walls of TVs that are programmed into you, even if it’s true, and Bradbury might like that. This is a challenge to anything you experienced before you had a chance to become something new. In a way, I’m glad I neglected so many reading assignments when I was younger because it opens up a world to me now that I can actually appreciate. It might not change my life in the possibly dramatic way it can alter the path of a wayward teenager, but for me, there wasn’t a book I could have picked up in high school that would have had that effect. I’m proud of who I turned into, regardless of my previous reading habits. Clearly, it doesn’t just mean you’re a bad, lazy person. It makes you statistically average (no statistics were used in my previous sentence).

I’m not saying the path I chose was the right one, but what I do know is that I can look at a title like Crime and Punishment, a reading assignment that had some of my closer friends on the brink of committing a crime, regardless of the punishment (what a brilliant way to teach), and actually want to read it. There is so much that we experienced before our minds were in a position to comprehend, process, and understand. An under-developed mind stuck hating the very novels meant to inspire and stimulate the youth is a shame. But hopefully, as you continue to mature and grow into the person you’ve sought to become, your thirst for knowledge, perspective, and experience never ceases. Sometimes, we have to look in our past to find something that will change our present.

Scientific Dating

Whether it's a sign of our times, a cry for help, or just something you stumbled on, online dating has erupted over the last decade. During that span, my time on a computer mainly consisted of hours and hours of online communication, from AOL, to email, to AOL Instant Messenger, to MySpace, to Facebook, saddling up now with gChat, but only rarely was I using the internet as a means to meet new people. 98% of my chatting was spent with friends, peers, classmates, romantic interests, family members, etc. in short: people I knew. There are outliers; those that I met through chatrooms (AOL) or while searching certain areas (MySpace) or browsing fellow dorm dwellers (Facebook), and admittedly teetered on the edge of lonely and creepy, if not both. But as I made my way through social mediums, I always had a strong affinity toward online communication, for several reasons.

1. Typing on a computer does not require immediate response. This means I get the chance to think and plan what I'm going to say, which is dire for me. I'm getting better at filling the gaps with intelligent words, pushing my logical and appropriate responses to the forefront of my mind, and spewing them out quick enough to maintain reasonable conversation. But back in Jr. High, High School, and most of college, I still think I preferred a computer screen to hide behind, which leads me to my next point.

2. The other person doesn't see you! So besides being able to wear sweatpants and a hoodie, hood up, lacking general hygiene, etc, you also get to react, yell, scream, smile, cry, or let out any form of emotion you might have in response to what the name on the screen just typed. This just makes things easier, even if Hitch claims that '90% of what you're saying ain't coming out of your mouth.'

3. Considering myself a stronger writer than speaker, I was able to articulate my jumbled thoughts in text instead of searching for and mumbling over the words that seeped out. I might talk too much now, but that was not always the case, and letting my fingers do the conversing was a huge bonus for me.

4. The ability to carry on several conversations at once, expanding people I could get close with as opposed to that 'limiting' one-on-one form of talking. Who would like that, I have no idea.

I realize that these explanations do nothing to boost my current image, but that's hardly my point. Chemistry.com: 11,000,000 registered members. eHarmony: 37,000,000 registered members. Match.com: 96,000,000 registered members. PlentyofFish: 23,000,000 registered members. Now I understand that there is overlapping profiles, double profiles, abandoned profiles, joke profiles, and inactive users, but those are absolutely staggering numbers. So what do they all do? Well Chemistry.com uses an algorithm that "pairs members specifically for long-term relationships using methods it refers to as 'compatibility' and 'chemistry,'" or so Wikipedia says. The CEO of eHarmony describes his website service as "a scientific approach to a deeply personal and emotional process." Match.com is a more straightforward approach, simply allowing users to browse and wink at each other for free, requiring a membership to email members and read incoming messages. Plentyoffish, similar to Match.com, thrives in the UK and Canada as their number 1 dating site.

Given my history of online communication and my present relationship situation, I took the encouraging words of a friend and decided to join one of these networks about a week ago. I know you might be shocked to read that I am in fact single, but try to keep up.

So is there some truth to the commercials, claiming the hundreds of hundreds of people that have met their mate through an online dating community? Of the relationships that you are aware of, how many do you know started online? Do you think there is a stigma attached to it, as the characters on ‘How I Met Your Mother’ discuss in the episode ‘How I Met Everyone Else’ (2007)? Or is it really not a big deal anymore, considering its 2011 and the world is already nuts (case in point: every video shown on Tosh.0)?

I don’t have the answers to all of those questions, but I do know this: what’s the harm in finding out? Look, I enjoy going to bars, even if 80% of the time I just stand in a small circle, talking to the immediate group that I traveled with. I like to go out for the possibility of meeting someone new, be it the person that orders a drink next to you, the one that you make eye contact with from across the room, or the one that slips you a number when you’re not paying attention. Do I think meeting a girl in a bar will in some way taint the tenure of the ensuing relationship? Absolutely not. After all, isn’t that the true test of chemistry, what happens when your eyes finally meet?

Or is the calculated, surveyed, algorithmed version the best approach? Maybe cycling through a dozen profiles that were picked for you until you hit one face that stops your clicking is the same thing. It sounds questionable, but is it any different than a friend trying to set you up with another friend? ‘Hey, I think you would be perfect for my friend, I’m going to set you up.’ Well, does this mutual friend know that I want my future mate to be a non-smoking, socially drinking, honest and caring Libra with a carefully sculpted bio, an array of pictures and poses, who lives in Chicago? (not entirely true). Maybe the systems on these websites can narrow it down from the millions of people we’ve come in contact with to the 50 or 100 most qualified. Is that a cowardly approach, or does it just increase the odds of finding someone you enjoy spending time with?

I’m confident in my decision for three reasons. It won’t stop me from going out, being social, meeting new people, going on dates, and attempting to find someone in ‘the real world,’ if nothing else, it just allows me more opportunities to talk to and meet new people, but also because for the people that I do establish a connection with, not every relationship has to turn romantic. I’m excited to meet some people that might not have the free time to bar hop, for whatever reason.

It’s a shame that online dating has a stigma attached to it. If used for the right reasons, it’s actually one of the most logical approaches you can have.

Falling and Failing

This past weekend, I spent three days and four nights at the base of Vail Mountain in sunny Colorado. We traveled in a group of eight guys for the majority of the trip, with my snowboarding skills sitting significantly farther behind than the rest of the riders.

Determined to not only improve my skills but keep up with my traveling companions, Friday morning, I embarked at the backs of my crew to the top of the mountain, and without plan or practice, followed them down the slopes at more than 10,000 feet above sea level. Catwalk after run, run after catwalk, barely catching my breath on the lifts before bombing back down, doing everything I could to keep up with the guys, falling and failing too often, the first day on the mountain was anything but successful. Close to seven straight hours, and I struggled to move. My motivation was shot. My muscles (namely, quads) were on fire. Every time I popped up, I wanted it to be over with as fast as possible, which, as you just read, was not my forte. The waning runs were even more challenging as my focus turned to warmth, comfort, and a soothing hot tub. Finally opting out of following my friends on their last run of the day after deeming it too intense, I took a few wrong turns and ended up almost a mile away from the base bar where we were set to meet. By the time I got home, I was exhausted, sore, sweaty, bruised, discouraged, and absolutely melting into my sweatpants and hoodie.

Day 2 was not the same. Knowing full well that another day of chasing my friends would result in continued displeasure among my friends and quite frankly, myself, I chose to only start the day on the gondola with them. Once to the top, I wished them luck, made sure my cell phone was wrapped tightly in a bag and protected in my chest pocket, and headed back down in the direction from whence we came; also known as, the safer, nicer, calmer side of the mountain. Being able to pick my own pace and my own runs turned the experience 180 degrees. I touched almost a dozen different runs, ranging from 5-15 minutes apiece. I took as many pictures as I could, realizing each time I had to remove my glove to do so. I took in my surroundings, fully appreciating the environment I found myself in, for pretty much the first time (my previous trip to CO was over 16 years ago). Riding at my own pace, meeting people in the gondola, talking to people during lunch, and minimizing my falls and bruises, I could not have imagined anything better when I departed from Chicago. I even had enough energy to spend an hour at Keystone for some night riding.

This may seem a little strange, considering I flew out with 7 guys and had the most fun without them, but for those that don’t realize, you don’t do a whole lot of chatting while humming down the mountain at ridiculous speeds, and since we were hopping in the singles line for the lifts, we often weren’t sitting next to each other on the extended lift rides. Trust me, I did more talking on Day 2 than Day 1.

Day 3 started out like Day 1, turned into Day 2, and ended with a final run with my best friends on the trip. The four of us that shared a room met atop my favorite run of the weekend, embraced the mountain for everything it was worth, and blasted down the mountain as fast as I ever had before. My change from the beginning of the trip to the end was obvious, and my friends could tell. I completed my weekend in Vail by accomplishing what I set out to do: buy my own equipment, have a blast, and get better at riding. Trip successful.

So my first day was spent falling in and out of misery, and just falling, frequently, while my second and third days were spent freely, confidently, and enjoyably. So, surface level assessment of my trip would lead you to believe that it wasn’t until Saturday until I really began to have a good time on my vacation. In reality, looking back on the trip, my first day on the mountain was by far my most rewarding. It might have been a beast at the time, leaving me doubting my skills and my place on the vacation, but without it, I would have walked away without knowing my potential. Did I keep up with my group? Rarely. Did I bite it hard, sometimes barely coming to a stop on the steep decline? Absolutely. Did I realize how over-matched I was against the enormity of the backside of Vail Mountain? Without a doubt. But if I hadn’t explored, tested, attempted, and failed, I would not have my head held as high as it is today.

I can’t say enough about the gang of guys I was with, taking care of me when necessary, waiting to make sure I didn’t snowball off a cliff, and being patient and encouraging enough to keep me moving. I know my limitations, but I would have never known without trying them. Sometimes the most enjoyable thing is not having fun, staying safe, and being comfortable. Sometimes it takes pushing yourself to see how far you can last before something becomes worth the time, money, and effort you put in. Next time you find yourself in a situation that extends your skill set and challenges your fear, it might be the very thing that pays off, regardless of the result.

Pictured (left to right): Andrew Gruber, Tim Cuga-Moylan, Andrew Kohl, Chris Lazzerini, Eugene Grib, Tyler Keller, Jack Gainey, Adam Costello