I turn thirty-one tomorrow. I know everyone groans a bit about turning another year older, but honestly, this birthday has me upset.
I have had an incredibly rough couple of months. There was the five-day oasis of the Grand Cayman trip (which, yes, I will get around to writing about) and some other happy moments, but for the most part, things have been pretty miserable.
I did find a new apartment. Finally. It’s a nice place at a reasonable price that’s not too far from the place I lost in the fire, and I’m moving there sometime next month. But it took a really long time to find it and the whole process was incredibly disheartening. I only lived in my old apartment for a year and it didn’t take me very long to find, but somehow in a year, one bedrooms and studios in my area became very scarce. It’s really weird how they decide what to charge for apartments—the place I ended up signing a lease on is much nicer than a lot of the more expensive places I saw. At one point I filled out an application for a place I didn’t really like, just because I had no idea if I’d ever find anything else. At another point, after finding out that an apartment, which had been listed for almost two months but that the realtor couldn’t show until a month before it became vacant, was being shown at 5 PM, I requested to leave work an hour early and showed up with about fifteen other people to see the place, discovered that the price had been raised $100/month due to demand and that the sample unit pictures in the ad looked nothing like the actual apartment, filled out the application, and found out the next day that the landlord had picked someone else.
Also, I cannot believe how rude people have been to me. I’ve had some very good realtors, but I have also had some HORRIBLE ones, including one—let’s call her Danielle Felice of New England Properties— whom I’m going to report to the Better Business Bureau. (Seriously. RUN, do not walk, if you ever have the misfortune of coming across an apartment she’s showing.) It’s really sad when I consider “actually listens to me” and “treats me like a human being” and “expresses sympathy when someone is displaced by a fire” to be positive qualities in a realtor—I cannot believe how many people did none of those things.
I have spent an unbelievable amount of time in tears recently and I’m sick of it. Even before the fire, I was lonely and hated a lot of things about myself, and the fire just made it worse. When it comes down to it, I think I am less happy right now than I have ever been in my life. Something needs to change, and I’m doing my best to make that happen, but I’m afraid that it won’t. I’m afraid everything is going to get worse and worse. That eventually I won’t even be able to hope, that I won’t have anything to look forward to anymore.
Maybe once I’m settled into the new place, it will be easier to pull myself together and move on. I certainly hope so—and I also hope that I’ll never get to the point where I stop saying “I hope so.”
Here’s to the end of the awful first year of my thirties—may things get better from here.
I have had an absolutely crazy month, and there’s a lot I could tell you about. Like the trip to Grand Cayman, a fantastic oasis in the middle of a lot of really terrible things. And how I found a short-term sublet in Cambridge that I moved into as soon as I got back from the trip. And how much dealing with the aftermath of the fire has sucked—having to search for a new longer-term apartment, which I’ve yet to find, and how there are lots of really important things that people don’t bother telling you in the aftermath of a fire (example: the stuff that you were told is still in your apartment has actually been boxed up and is sitting in a warehouse in Saugus). And I will talk about that in future posts.
But first, I want to talk about Mad Men.
I caught up with this show just before the second season started (and then blogged about it). Since then, it’s become one of my all-time favorites. I was Joan for Halloween one year. A few times, my friends and I have gone to see it at Noir, a hotel bar that shows Mad Men when it’s on and actually looks like something out of the show. I’ve often said that it’s a show for English majors—you can really dig into the language of it, the symbolism, and the character development and find a lot of layers to it. And even though the characters do a lot of really awful things, they retain a strange bit of likeability that leads you to root for them anyway.
WARNING: DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MAD MEN FINALE.
Which is why I’m glad that in the end, in Matt Weiner’s words, everyone was “a little more happy than they were in the beginning.” For the most part, I liked the finale a lot, and although I know I’m quite late on this (like I said—it’s been a CRAZY month), I wanted to share my thoughts on it.
I did not see the ending with Betty coming. There was a lot of speculation that someone would die, and I heard Don, Megan, and Roger mentioned as possibilities, but not Betty. Even though she’s often a difficult character, I’ve never been among the Betty haters—back in 2009, I wrote a whole blog post defending her. Back then, I said that Betty didn’t quite know what to wish for and wasn’t quite sure how to be anything but a suburban housewife. In Season 7A, we saw her snap at Henry after an argument, “I’m not stupid! I speak Italian!” And then the first time we saw her this season, we saw that she’d decided to go back to school to study psychology, perhaps inspired by her own experiences. The sad thing is that she DID figure out what she wanted, but just a little bit too late. I know the moment that touched most people in the penultimate episode is when Sally reads Betty’s goodbye letter (that letter was so true to character, by the way—she’s concerned about how she’ll look at the funeral home first, but ends it with some genuinely loving words to Sally about how it’s a good thing that she marches to the beat of her own drummer), but for me, it was when Henry asks her why she’s still going to school, given her diagnosis, and she replies, “Why was I ever doing it?” She has the saddest ending of any character, but in the end she’s found a purpose she didn’t have at the beginning and is, indeed, just a little bit happier.
Henry Francis was always incredibly boring, but I can’t say I wasn’t a little bit moved when he broke down crying after telling Sally about Betty’s illness. He didn’t have much personality, but he did really love Betty and seemed to be a good stepdad.
Sally is definitely the most likeable character on the show, and we don’t know much about her future after the show ends except that she seems to be stepping up to be there for her brothers. Kiernan Shipka is such a great little actress—she made Sally really fascinating when she started off as a little kid who functioned mostly as a background character. I hope there are all kinds of great things in store for Kiernan in her post-Mad Men life.
I think Gene Draper said about two words in the finale and that’s the most he’s ever said. He was about seven by the end of the show, too, but he was always the afterthought of the Draper kids.
Pete, oddly enough, might have had the happiest ending of anyone. A lot of people really hate Pete, and while he can definitely be awful, he hasn’t really done anything that other characters on the show haven’t done. I think it’s his lack of the charm that someone like Don has that makes him so unappealing. Despite that lack of charm, though, he was married to a really awesome woman—it’s partly because she’s played by the fantastic Alison Brie, but Trudy was always one of my favorite minor characters. So when they split up, he lost the best thing in his life. It wasn’t that their marriage was unhappy so much as that Pete was unhappy. In the scene with his brother, when Bud’s only explanation for cheating on his wife is that their father did it, too, it dawns on Pete that he’s been doing everything he thinks he’s supposed to do and what he needs is something new. So he leaves advertising, leaves New York, and heads with Trudy and Tammy into a new life he’ll make for himself.
I really did not think that Roger and Megan’s mother would last, and maybe they won’t. I kind of would rather have seen him and Mona get back together, but I guess having two characters reunite with their exes would have been a bit of a stretch.
I’m surprised that Megan’s departure from the show after she and Don divorce was so complete. A million dollar check, and…that’s the end of Megan, along with most of Don’s furniture. It’s a far cry from being murdered by the Manson Family, as the conspiracy theory suspected she would. If the departed Television Without Pity and its successor Previously.tv are representative (and I’m not sure they are), a lot of people really hated Megan. I did not, although I think Jessica Pare is one of the weaker actors in the cast, but I did think she had outlived her usefulness on the show and am glad she took a backseat this season.
One of the biggest surprises of this season was how Meredith, the ditzy secretary who steals every scene she’s in, suddenly became competent in the months between Seasons 7A and 7B. (Although still dumb enough to think that Roger was serious when he said he wanted something translated into pig latin.) She was brought into the office action a bit more this season, and we learn more about her—she was an army brat, she doesn’t seem to have made friends with the other secretaries. And she did say something strangely wise in the finale: after mentioning that she hopes the absent Don is in a better place, Roger protests that Don’s not dead, to which she replies, “There are a lot of better places than here.” Stephanie Drake, the wonderful actress who plays her, has retweeted me twice, which made me happy, and I hope sometime soon we’ll be seeing her in places that are better than McCann Erickson.
I do have to say, though—I think the show missed a lot of opportunities to do more with Dawn, the first black secretary the firm hired. The few times she did get a storyline, she was always interesting. This Salon article sums up the wasted potential nicely.
And I always hoped we’d find out what happened to Sal, but no such luck. C’est la vie, I guess—sometimes you really never do see people again.
I’m so glad that Joan played a bigger part in Season 7B after it seemed like she had nothing to do in 7A, and Christina Hendricks, who sometimes makes me question my sexual orientation, was effing fantastic all season—I really hope she finally gets her Emmy, which she really should have gotten back in Season 5. I think Joan might actually be the character who changed the most over the course of the show. Back in Season 1, she was kind of bitchy to the secretaries she managed, using the small bit of power she had as a weapon, and reveled in the admiration of the office men. But gradually, that desire to be admired for her beauty morphed into a desire to be valued for what she can contribute at work. In Season 1, she thought that as office manager, she’d attained the highest position available to her as a woman—and by Season 3, she’d abandoned it in favor of marriage to a doctor, something she’d always thought she wanted. By the end of the show, she was a single mother fighting back against sexual harassment and not only starting her own company, but giving up a relationship with a rich man to do so. As awesome as I thought the idea of Harris Olson was, it’s really fitting that Joan ends up naming her company Holloway Harris: her maiden and married names. She’s in a financial position that lets her do whatever she wants, and she chooses to make her way on her own, in a company where she answers only to herself.
I was disappointed at first that Peggy didn’t take Joan up on her offer to join her, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense that she didn’t. Joan’s path at McCann Erickson was so clearly blocked that she really had to leave, but as we see in an early finale scene when Peggy successfully fights her way back onto an account she was taken off of, Peggy’s learned how to find her own way at McCann Erickson. When Pete, in one of the most genuinely nice speeches he’s ever made, tells her that by 1980 she’ll be a creative director and people will brag that they worked for her, we have no reason to doubt his prediction. After that awesome scene where Peggy strolled into the office with her sunglasses, cigarette, and Japanese painting like a boss, we felt like whatever happened with Peggy at work, she’d be okay. But her love life was the big question mark, so I’m thrilled that after seven seasons of picking the wrong men, she ended up with the perfect one for her. Yes, the Peggy and Stan ending was a little rushed, but I didn’t mind their rom com-esque declarations of love over the office phone. Peggy might not need a man in her life, but she certainly wants one, and with Stan, she has someone who not only loves her but understands and appreciates her as well. I feel like the two of them will have a healthier relationship than any other two people on this show. (Side note: the finale aired the night before Christina and I left for Grand Cayman. We were staying in a hotel near the airport, and I was watching this on my laptop with headphones, since the hotel didn’t get AMC and Christina wasn’t caught up with the show. She didn’t know what was going on, but she saw my giddy reaction to the Stan/Peggy scene, and I can only imagine what she thought.)
Peggy’s other important relationship, though, has always been with Don, and I did love that phone call between them. Their relationship is complex and he often treated her badly, but there’s still a lot of mutual respect and admiration there. I like that on the phone call, she pleaded with him to come back, reminding him about working on Coke—and that, combined with the hippie retreat, is likely what lead to Don’s ending.
It does bother me that in the end, the question of Don’s role in his kids’ lives after Betty’s death is still unresolved. The ending’s implication is that he goes back to New York and advertising and creates the famous Coke commercial, but what that means for his relationship with his kids is less clear. But although Don’s ending is not what I expected, it makes sense and I kind of like it. He’s struggled with his identity through the whole show, and when he finds enlightenment at the retreat, I think one thing about himself becomes clear: he’s a really good ad man and always has been. But now he’s an ad man who’s found some inner peace and can use some of that to sell Coke. The pilot had him inventing another real slogan—“It’s toasted,” for Lucky Strike—but while that grew out of a cynical place, an attempt to differentiate a product from its competitors when, in truth, they all cause cancer, the Coke commercial, for another less-than-benign product, comes from someplace more genuine. He tells Rachel Menken in the pilot, too, that “what you call love was invented by guys like me to sell nylons,” but while he uses his experience in California to sell Coke, the peace he’s found is real. I think he really has lost at least some of the cynicism he had at the show’s beginning. And Emmy committee, I am going to be so disappointed in you if you don’t FINALLY give Jon Hamm the award he’s deserved for years.
I hope someday another show comes along that has as interesting characters and is as well-written and well-acted and as made for analysis as Mad Men, but it’s hard to imagine. I’m thinking I may have to rewatch the whole thing now, knowing how it ends.
On Tuesday morning, there was a big fire in my apartment complex that killed one person and displaced many others, including me.
I woke up around 5 AM to banging on the door. I could see fire trucks when I opened it, so I quickly put shoes on and grabbed my purse and laptop. I guess now I have an answer to that question about what I’d save from a fire.
The complex that I lived in until Tuesday is an older one, with wooden buildings that are all connected and form a circle around a courtyard. It’s grandfathered into the fire codes, apparently, so there’s no building-wide alarm and no sprinklers.
My apartment is on the side of the building and the building that was on fire is in the back of the complex. I saw the hoses being aimed at it when I went outside- by then the flames were gone. I was just about to call my parents when they called me—they’d seen it on the news.
You can read more details about it here, or in a lot of places—just Google “Arizona Terrace fire.”
I can’t believe Tuesday was only three days ago. Since then, I’ve entered my apartment twice and attended a meeting for all residents. My apartment was not on fire but when I went in, the floor was all wet and everything smelled like smoke. I can’t stay there because the electricity was shut off to a block of units that includes mine. They’re working with an electrician to try to restore power to my building, but even if they do, I don’t want to live there anymore. My lease was up at the end of the month anyway.
The majority of my stuff is okay—some of it got wet, most of it smells like smoke, but I won’t lose very much, and I do have renter’s insurance and everyone’s telling me it will make things much easier. (PSA: if you rent, seriously, get insurance. It’s very cheap and completely worth it.) A cleaning company has all my clothes and bedding right now—in a week they should be getting everything back to me. Until they restore power, I need a police or fire escort to enter the unit and get more of my stuff.
For the time being, I’m staying with my parents in the suburbs. They’ve been awesome, but the commute is a bitch and I’m now looking for a new place to live. I think I might sublet for the summer and then look for something more permanent.
It was caused by some asshole dropping a cigarette on bark mulch. I’ve written before about how angry smokers make me, but now that I’ve actually lost my home because some idiot just had to inhale smoke into his or her lungs, no one is allowed to disagree with me on how much people who smoke suck.
I know it could be worse. I’m alive and unhurt, I have a place to stay, and I’ll retain most of my stuff. I feel terrible for the friends and family of the man who died and for those who lost everything. There’s a fund set up to help those who need it.
But it still sucks. Yesterday I broke down crying and just felt very alone. When bad stuff happens and you’re already unhappily single, it has a way of making everything seem worse. And every once in a while I catch a whiff of smoke on one of the things I got from the apartment.
One good thing that’s coming up: the week after next, I have a work trip to Grand Cayman. I was invited with a bunch of sales colleagues after my performance over the last couple of years landed me in the top 10% of sales professionals company-wide. Christina’s coming with me as my guest and I am looking forward to a fantastic time in the sun. And after this week, I really need it.
I can’t believe this is happening. I didn’t want to live in that apartment forever, but when I moved out, I wanted it to be MY choice, you know?
I did a couple of other OC recaps for Snark Squad earlier this month (here and here), and they reminded me of something- I have a playlist of songs about California.
Why? Because there are a LOT of songs about California. I mean, it is the most populous state and brings a lot of images and associations to mind just at the mention of its name, so I guess it makes sense. It was an incredibly easy playlist to make- I just searched my music for California and then added some about cities in California. I’m particularly fond of the first one- “My California” by Beth Hart. “I’ll love you like the sun loves California” is a lyric that has stuck in my brain since I first heard the song.
1. My California, Beth Hart
2. California Girls, The Beach Boys
3. California Stars, Billy Bragg and Wilco
4. Southern California Wants to Be Western New York, Dar Williams
5. Hotel California, The Eagles
6. A Song About California, Hey Ocean!
7. Heads Carolina, Tails California, Jo Dee Messina
8. All the Gold in California, Larry Gatlin
9. California Deamin’, The Mamas and the Papas
10. California, Phantom Planet
11. California, Rogue Wave
12. California, Rufus Wainwright
13. L.A. Song, Beth Hart
14. Goodnight L.A., Counting Crows
15. L.A. Woman, The Doors
16. L.A. Is My Lady, Frank Sinatra
17. Walking in Los Angeles, Kate Micucci
18. Santa Monica, Everclear
19. San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair), Scott McKenzie
A few weeks ago, I was looking at the list of movies expiring from Netflix in March and saw that one of them was Evita. I first saw this movie in middle school and used to listen to the soundtrack (on cassette tape!) all the time. So I decided to watch it while I still could.
It was pretty much exactly how I remembered it, although I’d forgotten how much I love Antonio Banderas’s voice. Dude can SING! But the song that really jumped out to me upon this rewatch was “Another Suitcase in Another Hall.” As I’ve mentioned before, I think most good musicals have one really underrated song, and this is Evita‘s.
I’ve never seen it on stage, but as written for it, this song is sung by Peron’s mistress after Peron leaves her for Eva. In the movie, this was changed so that it’s Eva singing it earlier, after the end of her affair with a singer, and there’s a very short reprise where the mistress sings just a few lines of it. (The mistress only has about two minutes of screen time in the movie.) But the fact that it can be used for two different scenarios is one reason why I like the song so much. The best show tunes are the ones that can stand on their own, ones you can understand without knowing the context into which it was written. It’s a breakup song that could really be sung by anyone feeling hurt by the end of a relationship.
Here it is in the movie, but I also found a YouTube clip of a version by the wonderful Samantha Barks, so I’ve included that, too.
On Valentine’s Day freshman year of college, because I like depressing myself, I decided to make a mix CD of love songs. This was back in 2003—when I started college, I’d been very excited to learn that my new laptop had a CD burner, since iPods weren’t quite mainstream yet and mix CDs were, in my eighteen-year-old estimation, the coolest thing ever.
Twelve year later, methods of music consumption have changed quite a bit. My love life, sadly, has not changed at all. But although Valentine’s Day makes me sad, and it gets worse with every passing year, I’ve always had a thing for sappy love songs. (I also love romantic comedies, so apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.)
I’ve since added to that playlist I made all those years ago, and here it is for you:
1. For You- Duncan Sheik
2. Never Saw Blue Like That- Shawn Colvin
3. Amazed- Lonestar
4. To Make You Feel My Love- Garth Brooks
5. Your Song-Elton John
6. I Finally Found Someone- Barbra Streisand and Bryan Adams
7. For the First Time- Kenny Loggins
8. Breathing- Lifehouse
9. I’ll Be- Edwin McCain
10. Good Morning Beautiful- Steve Holy
11. Unexpected Song- Sarah Brightman
12. From This Moment On- Shania Twain
13. Here With Me- Dido
14. I Will Buy You a New Life- Everclear
15. When You Say Nothing at all- Rowan Keating
16. Wonderful Tonight- Eric Clapton
17. Untitled- Buckcherry
18. Valentine- Martina McBride
19. You and Me- Lifehouse
20. Falling Slowly- Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova
21. Nine Million Bicycles- KatieMelua
22. I Hope Tomorrow Is Like Today- Guster
23. You Picked Me- A Fine Frenzy
24. Just the Way You Are- Billy Joel
25. It Is You (I Have Loved)- Dana Glover
26. Hey There Delilah- Plain White T’s
27. Be Here Now- Mason Jennings
28. The Luckiest- Ben Folds
29. Question- Rhett Miller
30. Brand New Year- The Damn Millionaires
31. Come What May- Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman
32. We Belong- Pat Benatar
33. Eric’s Song- Vienna Teng
34. Grow Old with Me- Mary Chapin Carpenter
35. True Companion- Marc Cohn
36. Growing Old with You- Adam Sandler
37. I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing- Aerosmith
38. Everything- Alanis Morissette
39. Wherever You Will Go- The Calling
40. I Turn to You- Christina Aguilera
41. Snowfoot Waltz- The Divers
42. The Book of Love- Peter Gabriel
43. Songbird- Eva Cassidy
44. You’re My Home- Billy Joel
45. Arms- Christina Perri
46. I Choose You- Sara Bareilles
47. Annie’s Song- John Denver
I’m starting a new feature here- “I Read Books.” I have a tendency to read, close together, groups of books that have something in common, so I’m starting this to share my reviews of what I read, grouped into categories.
As a chronic singleton who’s been actively dating for about seven years, I sometimes look to other people’s experiences for advice. Since it’s Valentine’s Day month, I’m kicking this series off with books about dating and relationships. Actually, I’m pretty sure I read most of these around this time last year.
Never Have I Ever: My Life (So Far) Without a Date by Katie Heaney
I don’t know if everyone would love this book, but I sure did. I am another Katie H. who has always been single and I could relate to so much of what she writes about here- liking guys who like other girls, crushing from afar but not doing anything about it, not realizing when guys are trying to flirt with you. Even though she’s a few years younger than me, her pop culture reference points, as she takes us through her life from elementary school until her twenties, resonated- I laughed out loud on the T when she discussed the incredibly flawed premise of the game Dream Phone and there’s a fantastic chapter about awful online dating messages. But even though she hasn’t found a boyfriend yet, this book is very light, happy, and optimistic. And before the end of the book I realized that Katie kind of has found the love of her life- her best friend and roommate, Rylee. Not in a romantic sense, more like Billy Mack realizing at the end of Love Actually that he people he loves is, in fact, the manager who’s always with him. Rylee, who always has a boyfriend, is a constant source of support and friendship, and as someone whose friendships have sustained her and kept her from complete loneliness, I get how valuable that is.
It’s Not You: 27 (Wrong) Reasons You’re Single by Sara Eckel
This book actually does a really good job giving hope to single people, and that’s not easy. The author was single for a long time before meeting her husband in her late thirties and based on her own experiences and those of her friends and other women who remained single until later than average, she goes through all the reasons women are told they can’t find love and tells you why you shouldn’t listen to them. She actually makes sense. Think about it—it’s not because you’re too independent or too picky or have low self-esteem. You’re single because you haven’t met the right person yet—period.
She throws in some Buddhist teachings to back up a lot of it, and it’s a bit distracting, but this was a quick and comforting read. Seriously, every single woman should read this.
The Unhooked Generation: The Truth about Why We’re Still Single by Jillian Straus
I actually read this book a few years ago, but last year I bought it and re-read it. Jillian interviewed a bunch of urban, single, heterosexual people she identifies as “Gen X-ers” (so it’s a teeny bit dated, but it’s all relevant for millennials as well) and found a bunch of patterns that have contributed to people remaining unmarried longer: unrealistic expectations, unwillingness to work to make the relationship better, “multiple choice culture” that prioritizes keeping options open, fear of divorce, etc. There are a ton of anecdotes from the people she interviewed as well as Jillian herself, but just when you start to get depressed and wonder how you’ll ever meet anyone, she includes a chapter on couples who did make it work and explains why. And now she has personal experience to back it up—turns out Jillian met her husband while she was researching this book.
The tips she gives at the end make sense. They’re not the easiest to follow—“burn your checklist”? My checklist is a mile long!—but they’re based on what works, and often what doesn’t work is couples expecting perfection without putting forth the effort to make the relationship better.
Amy Webb certainly had one. And not just things like being a non-smoker or wanting kids—things like which specific musicals she wanted her future husband to like. After a bad breakup, she decided to try online dating, and after a bunch of the terrible dates that most online daters are accustomed to, she decided to get very specific about what she was looking for, eventually coming up with seventy-two criteria. She narrowed those down to the most important, assigned point values to each trait, and used those to determine whom to go out with. She also analyzed the algorithms of the site she was using to determine how to get better matches, partly by creating some fake male profiles to see which women they were shown. Eventually, she met the man who became her husband.
I don’t know if the tricks Amy used would work for everyone, but there are still some good ideas in here—include “girl” in your username, show some skin in your profile picture, don’t mention too much about work because most people don’t like to think about work, etc. And it’s definitely worth considering that fewer dates with guys you’re more enthusiastic about is better than a larger number of bad dates. Aside from that, though, this is just enjoyable to read as a memoir. The writing has a funny, laid-back tone and there was a lot I could relate to— I’ve been doing online dating for seven years and it’s been among the most miserable experiences of my life.
Skin in the Game: Unleashing Your Inner Entrepreneur to Find Love by Neely Steinberg
In November of 2013, I went to a particularly demoralizing Match.com Stir event at a bar. Neely was there promoting her dating coach business, and…let’s just say the night ended with me in tears, sobbing to her about how frustrating my dating life was. She was very nice, and when her book came out, I bought it. It’s all about using the same skills that an entrepreneur uses to work on finding a romantic partner. While the book is a bit longer than necessary and could have benefited from more editing, it does make a lot of good points—after all, you’re not going to meet anyone if you just sit around waiting.
He’s Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo
Ten years old at this point but still relevant. I bought this book back in college, left it on the coffee table, and went out. While I was out, my roommates picked it up and read it, and when I came home, I was greeted with, “Oh, my God, men are ASSHOLES!” We then all had a spirited discussion of the book they’d all flipped through while I was gone.
The thing is, harsh as it may sound, it saves you time and heartache to realize before things get too serious that a guy just isn’t that into you. It frees you to move on and look for love elsewhere. I don’t agree with everything in it—if he’s not asking you out, it might be that he’s just not that into you, but some men are genuinely shy or afraid of rejection—but most of it is genuinely helpful. Why waste time with a guy who doesn’t think you deserve his time?
The interesting thing about these books is that their advice is all different and sometimes different books conflict with each other, but I did find things to take away from all of them. What dating books have you guys read? Any particularly helpful/unhelpful ones?
A few years ago, for a friend’s birthday, I made her a mix CD where every song had “winter,” “snow,” or “cold” in the title. We’d been joking about doing a snow dance to make it snow.
As I’m sure you’ve heard, we recently got a couple of feet of snow dropped on us by the blizzard that the Weather Channel called Juno. Much like the dog it shares a name with, this Juno DEMANDED everyone’s attention. But I don’t mind- although it can sometimes be a pain, I really love snow and I’m happy that we have so much of it now.
For those of you who are not so lucky, here’s my snow dance/”wintry mix” playlist:
1. Let It Snow, Dean Martin
2. It Snowed, Meaghan Smith
3. Snowfoot Waltz, The Divers
4. In Time It Snows, Nedelle & Thom
5. Snow Like This, The Softies
6. Winter Wonderland, Tony Bennett
7. Your Winter, Sister Hazel
8. Sister Winter, Sufjan Stevens
9. Song for a Winter’s Night, Sarah McLachlan
10. Whisper in Winter, Frame the City
11. A Cold Wind Blows Through Your Door, Bill Ricchini
I’ve been thinking too much, as I sometimes do. And there are a few things I have on my mind, because they’re things about which I’ve never really heard any advice given. They’re all things that I’ve been told, directly or indirectly, that I should be doing—but what I haven’t heard is how.
So I could use your advice on these three things, Internet. I’m interested in EVERYONE’S thoughts on these, whether I know you or not, whether you’ve commented before or you just lurk, whether I met you in real life or on the Internet, whether you want to share your name or be anonymous. If you have thoughts—any thoughts at all—please comment.
How do you stop comparing yourself to other people?
This advice is given on the Internet so many times it’s almost a cliché. “Want to be happier? Stop comparing yourself to others!” “Not satisfied with where you are in life? Stop comparing yourself to others!”
But I’ve yet to find any practical advice on HOW to stop comparing yourself to others.
Because here’s the thing: almost everything in life is designed to encourage comparison. Look at high school—you spend all of high school competing for the best grades. The winning time in the meet or the most goals scored. That leadership position you want to put on your resume. The lead in the play, the first chair in the orchestra. All this so that you can beat out other people for spots in the college you want to go to.
And it never really ends. At work now, I’m in sales, and comparing yourself to other salespeople is a built-in part of the job. You see where other people are in life and use them as yardsticks for where your life should be, or could be.
All the advice I’ve ever read on the attempt to stop comparing yourself to others is really vague and general. So…do people who don’t compare themselves to others really exist? And if so, how do they do it?
This kind of goes hand-in-hand with my next question:
What do you do when you’re not happy for someone and you’re expected to be?
So let’s say someone in your life has some good news while your own life is…not going so well lately. And while you know it’s fairly normal to be happy for someone while also being jealous…what about when you’re 0% happy and 100% jealous? And you feel like the only thing that would make you feel happiness for this person would be an improvement in how things are going in your own life?
Jealousy is ugly and it’s kind of a shameful thing to have to admit to, but I feel it all the time. But I don’t know how to put an end to it. When someone gives the advice to be happy for the person’s good news, to me that sounds like, “Even though you didn’t like that (fill-in-the-blank…could be a movie, book, song, food, etc.), you should just change your mind and like it!”
I honestly don’t think I can just decide to be happy for someone and make my percent of happy higher than zero. I have tried and it really didn’t work. But other than working to improve my own life, in hopes that it will decrease my jealousy, what do I do?
And one more thing:
What do you do when someone won’t forgive you for something you’re truly sorry for?
I’ve never really talked about this, on this blog or anywhere else, and even now I don’t want to go into too much detail.
About two and a half years ago, I said something I shouldn’t have said, and the result was the end of more than one friendship. When I apologized to the person I’d hurt, she didn’t accept it and essentially said that she’d never forgive me and didn’t want to talk to me ever again.
It is not an exaggeration to say that I think about this every single day.
It’s not the only misstep I’ve made, either, and was not the only thing that led to the end of these friendships. I’ve spent a lot of time retracing my steps, thinking of how things might be different now in my relationships with people if I’d made different choices. The fact that I’ve hurt and upset other people absolutely kills me.
I see so many people in my life who are actually good people, people who don’t hurt others, people who can go to bed at night knowing that they are actually not terrible human beings, and I wish so much that I could be one of them.
When there’s not the slightest chance of being forgiven, is there any chance you can forgive yourself? And if so, how do you do it?
Please comment. I really want to hear what people think about any or all of these questions.
I cannot believe I’ve let this much of January get away from me without blogging. This definitely does not fit in with my goals for the year, which include a lot of things I want to do with this space. But more on that later.
My tendency is to aim high and make too many goals for the year so that when I look back and see what I’ve accomplished and it’s more than half of them, I can shrug and say, “Eh, not half-bad…literally.” The thing is, though, there are always so many things I want to do and so little time (which reminds me of the Willy Wonka quote in the video up there). I want to write fiction: short stories, the novel I started, another novel I’ve had rattling around in my brain. I want to redesign this blog and have more posts and regular features and just generally do more with Pure Bright Fire than I’m currently doing. I want my writing to be published on other sites. I want to exercise more, cook more, and eat healthier. I want to volunteer and do more with my church and donate platelets more often. I want to travel and spend more time with my friends. I want to read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies and binge-watch a lot of shows. Oh, and I also have to work and hopefully get 7-8 hours of sleep a night.
I’ve found that a lot of bloggers, rather than New Year’s Resolutions, pick a word that’s their word for the year, something they want to focus on. I can’t do that because I can’t decide on a word, funnily enough. But as I was pondering what I want to do in this new year, a certain phrase popped into my head and I can’t get it out: “Produce more, consume less.”
Now, that doesn’t quite work for all my goals–exercise doesn’t really produce anything except sweat– but it’s fitting enough that I’m keeping it as a mantra of sorts.
I want to produce more fiction, more writing for other sites, more content for this blog and produce a new design.
I want to consume less of the useless crap I read on the Internet- especially when I decide to raise my blood pressure by reading comment sections.
I want to produce more of my own food- cooking healthy things, trying new recipes.
I want to consume less sugar, junk food, and takeout.
It doesn’t work so well for exercise, like I said, and time with friends, traveling, and other fun things don’t really fall into easy produce/consume categories. And there are definitely more books, movies, and TV shows I want to consume, but I want my media consumption to lead me to produce good writing.
But it works well enough that I’m going to try to abide by it. We’ll see how I do.