Christmas Time is Here. And Gone.

Except still kind of here because I'm in Hawaii with my sister and niece - the most amazing person on the planet right now (understanding of course that there are three new babies in my life right now and that they, too, are most amazing. Liam, Emmy, and Evan - you rock).

Anyhow, Christmas was sweet this year. Lila is so freaking awesome it is almost impossible to breathe around her. She loves circles - drawing them, singing "circle circle" to her own made up tune, pointing out circles... She also asks "was dat?!" about everything and won't stop until she gets the answer she's looking for. She says "ah no!" and "owwww!" and "sowwy" (sorry), although only one of those is used correctly. She'll throw an "ow" or a "sowwy" out if we're buckling her in her carseat, putting on her shoes, walking on the sidewalk. You know, just whenever. She also says "car!" and "Abby!!!!!!!!!!!!" and knows exactly what she's taking about. She loves her Abby doll that she got for Christmas. I will never be able to forget that "rhyming words is what i like to do...rhyming words is so much fun." Ask me; I'll sing it for you.

She says "pweas" and "mulk" (please and milk), noooooodle, and twooo (for any number). She likes to enunciate her vowels. My mom is "Momsie" and my dad is "Potsie" (Lila's pronunciation of Popsie). Mama and Daddeeeeee and Nnenna (that's me). Twee (tree). She knows what all the animals say, plus what a pirate says ("arrrrr!"). Watuh (water). Taking you by the hand (or hair, as she did tonight during bath time) to what she wants if you aren't smart enough to figure it out the first time. "Hi!!" when she sees your first thing, "byeee!" when you leave, and "yay!" after any and every song we sing.

Lila loves art. She got an easel for Christmas and draws with the chalk and with the wipe-off-able crayons. She also has these cool bath crayons that she draws all over the tub/shower with. Freakin' Picasso. And she also loves Abby Cadabby from Sesame Street. And remote control cars. She LOVES to play outside (which I happily indulge). She has a weird fascination with socks.

So that's been my Christmas. That, plus Hawaii sun and warmth (though I have worn a sweatshirt and wished I'd had jeans. It gets chilly at night!). And my folks, who left the other day. Lila loves my dad and asks about three times a day, where da Potsie? Holy crapbagofbeans, it is the most precious and heartbreaking thing. Where da Potsie? Where da Potsie?

Oh yeah, and about 20 minutes after I put her to bed last night, I heard a funny noise upstairs and went to check it out. Lila had gotten out of her bed, went into her parents' room, gotten my sister's Nook, gotten back in her bed, and was playing a game. "Hi!" she said. Ridiculous.

"Rudolph" Addresses Women's Rights, Inclusion/Exclusion, and Torture

My favorite Christmas movie is the old school clay-mation Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer movie. Rudolph, Clarice, Hermey, Yukon Cornelius, and The Abominable Snowman (aka, the Bumble). The Island of Misfit Toys. Charlie in the Box. I love this movie. As a child, it was just a wonderful story with a scary Bumble and a happy ending. As an adult, I'm quite glad my child self missed out on the negative storyline. Here's a basic outline:

1. Issues of inclusion/exclusion
a. Rudolph's red nose excludes him from the reindeer games and the adult male leader clearly makes this known by telling the other reindeer kids that Rudolph can't play. The young bucks and does are separated - which, in adolescence, might be an idea for other societies to emulate - but still.
b. "No child wants a Charlie in the Box" so there's the Island of Misfit Toys which can only be found by traveling through a thick fog, effectively separating it from view of the rest of Christmastown. Let's just segregate all the things we classify as abnormal. And hide them in a fog.

2. Women's rights
a. Rudolph's dad doesn't let Rudolph's mom and Clarice go with him to search for Rudolph because "that's man's work." So Clarice and Rudolph's mom set out on their own after R's dad leaves.
b. "They all knew what they had to do first: get the women home." The snowman narrator says this after the team defeats the Bumble. After the big, strong, capable men solve the problem, it's time to get those womenfolk back to the homestead. I feel so much safer already.

3. Torture
a. Forcing Rudolph to wear a black nose cover, effectively affecting his speech and - most likely - ability to breathe. DFACs, please.
b. Taking out the Bumble's teeth = torture of the enemy. I'm not sure if the UN has made an official statement of Bumble rights, but I imagine pulling out one's teeth after knocking it unconscious with an ice block would be against it.


I was so happy with my teeth.

Like I said, it's a basic outline. And a classic movie. To be fair, it was made back in the day when "PC" probably only stood for Pledge Class in some private fraternity. So I still highly recommend watching it and showing it to your kids.  Your kid won't get the deeper stuff, but you will. And you can always teach your kids the positive lessons it demonstrates:

1. Teamwork and Differentiation - "let's be independent together!" says Hermey to Rudolph. They are differentiated in their independence and personal goals, but work together toward a common goal of societal acceptance
2. Helping Strangers - Yukon Cornelius pulls Rudolph and Hermey from a snowbank and takes them on his sled, helping them escape the Abominable Snowman. King Moonracer on the Island of Misfit Toys allows Rudolph and the gang to spend the night there on their journey back to Christmastown.
3. Following through on a promise - Rudolph, et al return to the Island of Misfit Toys on Christmas Eve, fulfilling Rudolph's promise to bring Santa to them
4. Human Complexity - Yukon both helps Hermey and Rudolph and whips his sled dogs; Santa is both the jolly gift-giving character of lore who "rescues" the toys off the misfit island and a grumpy old codger who initially excludes but ultimately uses Rudolph when it benefits himself and his purposes

All that in 47 minutes. Boom. And that sucker doesn't even realize I kept his coin.

The End

Adventures #9: The Hokey Pokey

Seriously.

I hate the Hokey Pokey. First of all, the name. Seriously? Hokey. Pokey. It sounds lame. Second of all, I can handle putting my legs and arms in and shaking them all about, but my head? Do you know how uncomfortable it is to shake your head all about and then spin around doing some loony shakey dance? It gets worse as you get older. Your head hurts, your arms and legs are tired from all that shaking...and then there's no real way to end the whole thing. With a clap? A shout? At least in Father (and Mother) Abraham (and Sarah) you sit down to mark the end of the song.

All of this is a metaphor for online dating, or maybe just dating in general. I was going to try and weave it into a story but I really don't have the energy for that right now. I hate dating. It's like The Bachelor/Bachelorette except you don't know the competition. I'm not good at dating games (hard to get? Please. I too much say what I think and mean to play that sort of game) and I don't like when others play them. Just say what you think and mean and there's no confusion for anyone. I'm also not good at hard to get because I either want to be gotten or I don't - and I'll clearly let you know either way. And the whole "who's supposed to call who and when" crap? I believe that if I want to talk to someone, waiting for them to call me is dumb. Are they supposed to just magically know?

And then! And then! In this circus horror of ambiguous dating, when am I allowed to plan a date? Is it too forward? Does he want to and I'm taking over and making him feel emasculated? Or is it - as I think of it - nice because then it's not all on him to always make the plans and make the plans happen. And he can always plan the next date, right? Or - heavens - speak up and say he wants to plan this one and can we do my plan next time? Holy shit. Online dating is the freakin' Hokey Pokey - put yourself out there, take yourself back, put yourself out there and get shaken by all the dating pretense. Seriously. I don't find it enjoyable, not when my emotional acre is involved. I find it enjoyable when real people do real things and spend real time together. Though this adventure has been enlightening and entertaining and I'm proud of myself for doing it, a serial dater I will never be.

I also just realized that the Hokey Pokey could be a really crass double entendre. I feel slightly weird about having Elmo up there now.

Thanks the Giving

Thanksgiving 2012 in pictures (and captions):

Fall in the streets

Emmy rockin' her cone 

The Game Plan!
Albeit, sideways 

Making the pumpkin chiffon pie 

Lazin' with my boy 

I love fires in fireplaces!

Day of preparations 

The poor little ugly bird who died
for our freedom...oh wait. I'm getting
my stories mixed up 

Making the dough for the rolls!!!!! 

Dough!! 

Paula's Stuffing. THE best. 

Taffy apple salad, a Zimmer tradition 

The stuffing, ready for the oven! 

The dough has risen! Just like Jesus
(except much more quickly)! 

Layering for the apple crisp 

Cutting the dough to make the rolls 

Snugging with my boy 

The apple crisp! 

Mmmm. Homemade yeast rolls, 

The table 

Adventures #8: Review. Because my attention span is waning

As I've done as much dating in these last few months as I've done in my lifetime prior to online dating, I needed to get a few things (and people) straight in my head. For posterity and because I'm forgetting people and the events they are connected to, here's the list:

1. Lawyer Red - early frontrunner but no date
2. Indiana Tim - my 1st first date, great voice, boring, did not look like his pictures
3. Big Country - three dates, Ayn Rand Libertarian, did-I-mention-I'm-intelligent. I learned that I do not like Ayn Rand Libertarians.
4. Stage Five Clinger - one date. that's about it. I learned what it's like to be on the other side of clingy.
5. Brad - three dates, weird ending, first date kisser, Jewish. I learned a few things - some can't be listed here - but basically just a good opportunity to practice assertiveness.
6. Kolin-with-a-K - one date, smart and funny, no chemistry, Greek. I learned that humor + intelligence is a big thing for me.
7. Marc - French. Fun. Cute. I learned that I like bordeaux wine, The Goat Farm, remembered I like interpretive dance, and was inspired to do more cultural things in Atlanta and spend more time in Piedmont Park and Midtown. That one hurt a little. But he is forgot and things are as they were.
8. Andrew - new kid on the block (not that he's in a boy band, he's just the current person with whom I am communicating)

Eight men in 4 months. Sounds like a Sex and the City episode. It's actually been way less glamorous, but I guess I've gotten my money out of this adventure. And I have totally gotten over first dates. They used to be intimidating; now they're just a necessary evil. I used to think, I really need to impress and be awesome!!!!!!!!! Now I think: I look cute - impress me. Just kidding (kind of). Now I really just go in thinking, I'm going to be myself and you can take it or leave it. It's actually probably a combo of those 4 elements (plus other schtuff): I look cute, I'm being myself, impress me, take it or leave it.

And I've learned a lot about myself and about life. I've experienced new things, tried new restaurants, realized that humor and intellect are incredibly attractive to me, and eaten at Verde for 3 first dates (seriously). And I've learned resilience - or maybe that I have resilience somewhere in there. It is such a weird feeling to date so much, to go on dates with more than one person, to be going into date #3 with someone and go on first dates with someones else - knowing that whether they like you or not, they're doing the same thing. And then to like someone, knowing they're dating other people. To like, to not like, and to have to heal and move on more quickly than you would in any other situation. It's like the hokey pokey, but with your heart being put in and out. Or deciding if you want to play the hokey pokey and even get your heart involved.

I also think this process has internalized the knowledge that - no matter what, regardless of where I am in this dating process - I still have all of the wonderful and not-so-wonderful parts of life. I still have my loverly friends, my weirdly functional family, my perfect Lilian, my job, my running, my apartment, myself...essentially, my life.

Adventures #7: oh lawd if one more person...

This is a very serious post. Very serious. I don't think I can iterate enough how serious this post is.

If one more guy writes that he is passionate about...

a. sports (really? are you?)
b. the outdoors (would you seriously say you hated them?)
c. trying new things (oooo. good for you)
d. working out (just post a pic of your biceps. that's what you want to do anyways)
e. travel (is this so we know you're not boring?)

...then I'm going to set myself on fire. Most likely figuratively, but there is a slight chance it will be a literal blaze.

I know women's profiles are probably equally as banal, but please. Please. Please. Jesus, please. (Seriously. Jesus needs to step in). Why would I want to get to know you if you're the same as the next guy and the next and the next and the next and the next? Why would you want to get to know me??

Realizing that coming up with a passion - and naming it - is easier said than done, I implore the dear people of online dating to TRY and come up with something more meaningful than the aforementioned items. Be silly! Be serious! Be ridiculous! Be sentimental! Just don't be like everyone else. I'm seriously considering sending all of them a form letter than says, essentially, no one is going to like you if you can't come up with something besides UGA football to be passionate about. Or simply: you are dumb.

To get you started, here is a sample of some of the funnier (read: more interesting) things I've read:

a. oxford commas (who doesn't love an oxford comma?!)
b. rebuilding classic cars (can't make that shit up)
c. "extremely expensive craft beer" (while probably a backhanded way to indicate your wealth, I appreciate the alliteration)

Yes, there are far fewer interesting things than dumb shit, but that is pretty much how I feel about this online dating thing at this point. Lots of dumb shits, far fewer interesting things.

The one that actually hurt my feelings

It cannot last long. He will be forgot and we shall be as we were before...A little time, therefore.-

- Jane Bennett

Goody Good Good.

Me and some of my volunteer
peeps from my clinic days

The Lighthouse basically restores my faith in humanity on a weekly basis. It's not actually that dramatic - I've pretty much always believed that people are good and want to do good but sometimes act like little shits. But working at the LH really does give me almost daily reminders about the best in humanity. I might still be in the honeymoon phase of this place, but I don't think so. I've been here over a year and I actually started out hating it. Most job satisfaction statistics follow along a bell curve: I love my job! --> I hate my job! --> I accept there are things about my job I love and hate. My job satisfaction curve went: hate, what the hell is this, not so much hate, there are some good things here, maybe I want to stay, I like my job. All the while knowing that there are things I love and don't love about what I do. Love? Patients. Coworkers. Potlucks. Hate? Patients, politics, and outcome measurements.

But this is who I see:

Audiologists. Not all of them are great. Some are really snooty and think they deliver gold-plated audiograms. But most are like Suzanne. She is one of our metro Atlanta audiologists and works with this patient who apparently perspires heavily (and that ruins the patient's aids). Suzanne has seen this woman for years and replaces parts and cleans and adjusts her aids for free whenever she needs it. The problem is the sweat (yeah, there are also really gross parts to my job. Like sweat and ear wax and old donated hearing aids). And so she calls to ask if there is any more permanent solution for this woman. So I call the manufacturer and ask and put those two in touch and Suzanne helps this woman a little bit more. And then there are the audiologists (and hearing dispensers) who call on behalf of their patients to check statuses, to coordinate application pieces and payment requests, who coordinate translators and open up their practice one more day each week to see LH patients, who put up with really difficult people for who knows why. Maybe it's because they have a contract. But they don't really get paid so maybe it's because they've committed to the LH. But they can break their contract whenever they want so...maybe it's because they actually care. And even if they don't, they are still helping.

Patients. Some are bitchy little snits, but the majority are just good people who need help paying for ridiculously marked up products. The thank you cards and notes from these patients make me want to cry, not out of sentimentality but because this dear man or woman has gotten back that part of his/her life again. Even on the vision side of things. One came back in yesterday with her husband (her name is Shontae - and that's not a HIPAA violation because I have no idea how to spell her name and probably have it incorrect). I ran downstairs when I heard she was here and got huge hugs and smiles and we got to catch up. She's working part time now (she was applying for jobs when we first met) and her husband, who was severely burned in an accident, is doing so much better now. That's the ultimate goal for all of this - increased independence and quality of life. And then there are my deaf oldies who call and just need someone to be on their side through all of this confusing process. I actually like to get the bitchy ones on the phone because it helps even out the sweetness of the other 92%.

Patient families. Some are terrible and won't help their family member, either by providing information or helping fill out the application. And some are freaking annoying and think their family member is the only person in Georgia (and probably the world) who is on a fixed income and needs help. But some are the best advocates for their mom or dad or aunt or uncle or grandparent that I've ever seen. When they get annoying with their persistent phone calls, I try to remember that they are doing it because they love their person. I hope I will be just as annoying for the people I love. I hope someone will be just as annoying for me.

Adventures #6: This party just took a turn...for the douche

One of the side effects of working with all women (essentially) is bonding through sharing news about our lives and the lives of the others (yes, this could also be called gossip). Some of it isn't so nice ("oh my gosh, you could see her underwear THROUGH HER DRESS"), but most of it is just sharing the happenings of our lives. Which is why my excursion into the realm of online dating is no secret. It's okay, really; I think it's funny to get everyone's perspective and to hear their own tales of awkward dates. It's even more okay because my boss is also female and wants the details. Which is how the following conversation happened:

Boss: Ooo, so what ever happened with that guy?

Me: Oh. He turned out to be kind of a douche.

Boss: Really?? What happened?

Me: I'm not sure, but he ultimately seemed only interested in talking about being physical. Not so much about "how was your day?" or "what do you do?" I mean, physical stuff is fine and good but I need dinner and a conversation first, you know?

Boss (mumbles something about men only thinking with their penises): "I'm convinced that only 15% of men are actually good men. You know? Like actually good men. I think I married one, but I definitely haven't dated them. Jim, did your daughters marry in the 15%?"

Jim (the part time finance guy who happened to walk around the corner at that moment. Jim has 3 married daughters): Nope. I don't even think they think did.

Me: Yeah, 15% might be a little high.

In this uphill part of life's journey, the party certainly has taken a turn for the douche. At first it was the perfect party; now there's just a lot of Ed Hardy. Seriously. In recent years of counseling I've realized that I've basically held the belief that men are stupid ass hats who care nothing about anyone but themselves (which seems to be all that is expected of them). But I think my boss may have been on to something. I know men in the 15% - my male friends, some family members, etc - and I have hope that every man can be in that 15%. How do we define good, though? Is it relative? Subjective? I'm attracted to humor and intelligence, but I don't think that makes someone good. I think goodness in part is humility and honesty and caring about other people; it's listening and remembering what someone says. It's kindness and generosity and fidelity. So yeah, if that's my definition, then there really are probably only about 15%. I don't know what the % would be for women - probably not much higher, to be honest - but I'm not dating women so I'm not worried with that statistic.

So perhaps this is the breakdown: if 15% are good, 30% are probably decent (they might not care, but they won't steal your purse and probably won't let someone else steal it), 20% are average (they don't care and they won't stop someone from stealing your purse), and the last 35% are just douche bags.

Which leads to my shout out to Sue Lundeen for saying "douche" at the baby shower today when she asked about Old Gregg. You're my favorite, Sue-Sue.

A Very Happy Birthday ... #28isNotTheNew18

The alternate title was "Anna + Alcohol = Diet Coke for Life." But though I am seriously considering imposing a 2 drink limit on the rest of my life, I did have a happy birthday. I'm not a big birthday person when it comes to celebrating my own but I do enjoy spending time with people I love, so any excuse for that is a good one. The day started with an early morning nap from 6-8am after taking my roomie to the airport at 530. I didn't set an alarm because I wasn't worried about getting into work on time because, well, I just wasn't. The work day was fairly uneventful and when my coworkers found out it was my birthday, I was summarily directed to leave the office and enjoy the day. So I did (a few hours later) and went for a nice run/walk in a swanky neighborhood in Brookhaven. I can't imagine having a house as big as those, but to show that everyone is subject to the laws of nature I submit this picture:

Inflatable Halloween decoration down.

I also did the requisite personal reflection. I always get a little introspective around holidays and birthdays and this year was no different. I realized I've done things I never imagined doing, been through things I could never have expected to go through, and grown in ways I never thought I could have. I blame most of this on being an adult. Being an adult can really suck sometimes, but I also think I've become more self aware and able to act in the moment (and own my actions). There is some good in having a fully formed brain. Anyhow, I got this from my niece - along with a hand "written" card, a non-objective drawing of a tree, and a tie-dye painting collection of her handprints - so at least I still get to be a kid at night:

I was thinking I needed a night light.

I facetimed with my bff and bbf, which always makes me happy. I love seeing their faces but it would be really nice to be closer. Or at least be able to Apparate. That would be really helpful. Then I took two bottles of Riesling with me to my friendy's house and had chili with most of my Atlanta family. And drank too much of the Riesling, which was fun until the room wouldn't stop spinning. Hence the 2 drink limit. But I woke up in a warm bed with Advil and water on the nightstand:

Seriously.

Yellow Straws

I wish the pack of straws was all yellow. Yellow isn't my favorite color overall, but it is definitely my favorite colored straw. It's calming, not overstimulating; peaceful and joyful...the perfect color for a striped bendy straw. The other ones are party straws and I just want a nice end-of-the-day straw.

I also want to post this video. After haranguing sideline reporting, this is me being part of the solution. If sideline reporting goes in this direction, I think it will be more enjoyable for the rest of us.

New bed frame. Now I don't hit
my head on the wall
nearly as much.

But I actually want to write about my bed. I love it. All of it. So very much. It's my spot. Like Huck and Emmers have their bed, Bella has the bay window, and Colby lays on top of you wherever you are - I have my bed. That is, I have a queen bed frame and a full mattress. It's basically the best of both worlds right now. I'm not ready to get rid of my mattress and sheets and down (alternative) comforter. I have an emotional attachment to them that I'm not ready to let go of yet. I've only had them for 4 years but we've been through a lot together: laughter, tears, short nights, long naps...essentially, seminary. But I also want a queen mattress in the future so I bought the queen bed frame in preparation. I know I will bond with the new mattress and its new sheets - probably pretty quickly if anyone knows how much I love to snuggle in bed. It's just the getting to that point that's the problem. I've had a lot of life happen in the past 4 years and this bed has been my safe haven. Plus, I roll around like a 2 year old - I hit at least 3 of the 4 corners of the bed most nights - and my mattress is the perfect size for that. For a visual, here's an almost 2 year old who does the same thing...

Bug sleeps like me,
though she's much cuter. And I
don't wear a diaper.

Starting to roll around.

This is me about halfway through the night.
And usually how I wake up. 

So I don't see any reason to rush a new mattress (especially since they're ridic expensive). But I am preparing myself for the future...albeit in baby steps.

I hate sideline reporting

This isn't a sideline reporter
and I actually get creeped
out by humans in
giant animal costumes.

I hate sideline reporting. And I might actually mean hate. "Coach, you're down 10 points going into halftime. What are you going to tell your players in the locker room?" "Well, Katie, we're probably just going to give ourselves two minutes, color some of our My Little Pony coloring sheets, and maybe do some deep meditation if we still have time." Really? Really? What do you think he's going to do?? No one cares. No one. No one. Stop. You just sound stupid. Please just stop. Or at least ask something like, "Coach, it looks like it's going to rain later. Are you afraid you're going to get struck by lightning?" And maybe dress up like a giant chicken. That at least would add a level of intrigue.

I love Ramen. I wasn't one of those college students who lived off Ramen so it's only recently that I've realized an undiscovered love for the salty little cheap package of pasta that cooks in 3 minutes. I try to keep one in the cupboard just in case I can't think of anything else to eat. I know it has a day's worth of sodium, but let's be honest - who cares?

Julia Ginger

I have a beautiful office plant named Julia Ginger. She - along with a Diet Coke Tervis tumbler - was a gift from my parents. A sort of "yay you have a real grown up job one year after your graduated from a master's program that didn't give you any marketable skills, only a bunch of theology that now makes us think you might not love Jesus" gift...just kidding. But I do love Julia Ginger. And am shocked that she is still alive after four months. I have never been able to keep a plant alive - not one that bloomed anyway. Julia doesn't bloom, but the fact that she has new little baby leaves and hasn't turned brown and crispy make my heart leap. She's not just surviving - she is thriving.

Part of me wants to be the tall
yellow one, but part of me wants to
be the one smacking the
yellow one in the face. 

After these past couple weeks at work, I've realized how deep my loathing of politics and politicians runs. I think they're all selfish little power mongers who don't actually know or care to know what is really going on with their constituents. Want to take the grant money that funds my program because you think you can do something better with it by throwing it at a state or national program? Come sit in my office for a day and tell me how you're going to do that. I'll give you stats, old white man in your ivory tower office, if you want stats. I'll gather up a group of audiologists and patients and we'll sit on your office chairs and show you how that money is being used. Do you even know what goes in to getting a hearing professional to take on a patient knowing they aren't going to be reimbursed much more than the cost of the staples in the patient's file? How successful have you been at that? Come at me, Po. My inner mountain lion is ready for a good rumble... I will actually probably let my boss handle you because I struggle with being diplomatic when someone's being a power hungry ass hat, and we actually do need state reps to like us. So while you're physically safe, I will continue to tear you to shreds with my vicious online rhetoric.

420 Pause for the Cause

So VW turned out to be a stage 5 clinger (I don't think you understand the urgency of the situation!) with no emotional boundaries; ergo, no second date. I actually canceled the second date on the day we were supposed to go out. Sorry, bud, but I'm not your self esteem coach or your therapist, and we're not in a relationship so perhaps consider keeping certain things to yourself. Like how much you hated your last job, how you think you're a loser with no talent, and how you don't think you've made your father proud. I really feel for you buddy, but that's not lighting any fires.

So I'm drawing on the board again. 39 (alternative nickname: Oldie) and I have tentative plans for a date once he gets back from out of town, and I still check the site every couple days sending smiles and answering people's questions. I'm preparing myself for the fact that the only thing I might have after my membership ends is a strong arsenal of first date anecdotes and stories that start with "holy shit, so this one guy I got matched with..." Classic. And 39 might should be off the list because he's like 11 years older than I am. But let's be honest: He's handsome. And shorter than he is tall, which I think is kinda cute. And he's probably a little more emotionally mature than a 23 year old. My concerns with Oldie are mainly that he could be too mature (read: boring. Dull. Age Spots. Creaky. Old) and wants to get married yesterday. I'm still a young spring chicken! I still have a pep in my step (as long as it's before 10pm)!! Though my doctor reminded me I'm nearing 30 so I should be getting baseline things done like blood tests and shit, which is ridiculous because I still feel 26. Besides, I thought 27 was the new 17! Shouldn't I be going to prom, not getting my cholesterol checked?

One of only a few
pics I have where
she's fully clothed.

Anyhow, blah blah blah. Let's talk about something else because online dating gets boring and tiring to do and to talk about. So in other news, my niece is awesome. She can count to three; say words like cheese, shoes, cookie, and Nnenna (that's me!!); say sentences like "what's that?" and "I did it!" while clapping for herself; and is basically a little 18 month old nudist. That girl never has clothes on.

I bought a real big girl grown up bed and I'm excited about it! I love my bed - my mattress, I guess - but I still have the metal frame it came with four years ago. Time to upgrade. Thank you, Rooms To Go sale. And I'm getting closer (like 2 months!) from having my own apartment, so it's time to get things I want and love. And don't have to worry about roommates ruining. Like a crockpot and a KitchenAid mixer and real dishes. And a big comfy wingback to read in. And sharp knives and a little eating table with matching chairs. Fuck a registry; I have my own list.

I also still love my job, though I've been there long enough to have had days where I really hate old deaf people and their families. Like days when they yell and curse at you over the phone, speak condescendingly because you aren't ancient like they are, and in general act like little sniveling brats because you won't give them something for free that would actually cost them thousands of dollars. But for the most part I like what I do and I love love the people I work with. Even my boss who is pregnant, which explains why she was a little...moody for a month or so. Poor thing was just hormonal.

Adventures #4: For Real?

So after Big Country turned out to be full of air (and himself), it was back to the drawing board. The big overwhelming board that is online dating. Being matched with men almost twice your age. Being matched with men almost three times your size. Men who literally list "i am proud to be an American" as one of the three things they are most grateful for. Part of me wishes I was a sociologist with some sort of analytical program to do outcome measuring on the number of men who list outdoors, sports, and physical fitness as their life passions. More than a little part of me wishes I could see what kind of women are on this site. I bet it's just as interesting as the men...

Anyhow, so Big Country was a big bust and I was back to work (because this shit is definitely work). I had it down to another set of three - VW, 39, and K-O - but 39 kind of fell off the list because that's his age, which I failed to realize until we were doing the questions thing and then I went, yeah 39 is a little old for me. 12 years, really? Too much. K-O seems normal, whatever. But VW was the first to jump and ask for my number so we set the first date. For a Tuesday night. At 7:30pm.

And that's when things went to shit.

Tuesday evening he calls to confirm (a welcomed move), but says he's had a hard day at work and wound up leaving later than expected; would I mind pushing it back to 7:45? I say, of course, no problem, let's make it 8pm. Who doesn't understand work getting crazy and leaving late, right? Except now we're pushing my bed time and I'm trying to hold off eating so I'll actually be hungry when I get there, but I'm already hungry and starting to get tired and, well, that's not always a winning combination for me.

So I leave in time to make our (now) 8-o-clock date and as I'm on my way I get a text saying to drive slowly because he's running behind. I don't like late. But there's the benefit of the doubt and all that, so I continue on my way and get there just before 8. I sit on the bench outside the restaurant and wait. And wait. He texts me at 8:07 saying he's five minutes away from leaving. At 8:17 I text him and say I'm heading back to my car and I'm leaving. Text, text, text, text. I'm pissed and leaving long ranting voicemails on friends' phones. And then he texts that he values my time but he lost his job that day and had to pack up his stuff and it took longer than he'd expected...

SERIOUSLY???!!! (yes, that's me yelling).

So now I feel like shit because someone lost their job and that's scary and sad. I feel badly for him, like I should call and ask how he's doing and let him talk it out. But I don't want to do that because I don't know him and he's a big boy - he can call a friend. Instead I just texted how sorry I was and that I would be willing to try again for a second first date. I was a glass case of emotion and I don't like glass cases - not on first dates, which are already stressful enough.

Who has the energy for this stuff?? These are things you go through with your besties, with your people. Not with first dates you don't know. If anything, this online dating process has taught me that I value deep, meaningful relationships and that I actually feel fairly full of deep and meaningful (except for the life partner part). The romantic relationships I have loved being in were with people I knew before dating - I knew who they were and I liked them as people - so this "meet and get to know each other while dating and trying to be awesome" crap is kinda for the birds. It's exhausting. If life's about the journey, this must be an uphill part.

Adventures #3: Three Dates is Enough

So I had things narrowed down to three guys: Lawyer Red, a new lawyer with his own firm; Big Country, an Alabamian software engineer; and Indiana Tim...I don't really remember what he did. Lawyer Red was a strong front runner - great smile online, seemed like a nice guy - and then the conversations dwindled and stopped altogether. No worries. Indiana Tim seemed like a nice guy; he certainly had a really nice voice. But one date confirmed that those were his only redeeming qualities (seriously, when I mention the three things you aren't supposed to talk about on a first date - religion, politics, your exes - don't launch into a conversation about religion and the other dates you've been on).

Which leaves us Big Country. Seeming like ever the Southern gentleman, Big Country had a strong (like, really strong) southern accent. Our first date was dinner. Our second date was dinner and mini golf. And our third - and final - date was dinner (but at a really nice place that I always want to go to but it's a little expensive. Thanks, Big Country. The mac-n-cheese was great). After date #1 I thought, he's kinda cute. A little self-absorbed, his accent a lot too much, but kinda cute. After date #2 I thought, well he's not perfect but no one is, and holy cow I forgot how much I love putt putt. Somewhere between dates #2 and #3, though, it became time to really figure this out. How much time do you put into someone you aren't sure about? The answer seemed to be a third date. It was on this date that I decided - because of some of his own comments - to tell him that I was new to this online dating thing, I typically was friends with someone first, friendship in a romantic relationship is really important to me, etc etc etc. and see if there was the possibility of at least a friendship. After an hour and a half the answer was no, and I left feeling sad and offended. Not sad because it wasn't going to work out, but sad because most of who he is (or who he presents himself to be) is exactly the kind of person I think makes this world a really sad place to live in. And offended because his statements about life and humanity were more Ayn Rand than Gandhi and he essentially called my beliefs invalid. Don't get me wrong - I think a strong logical, rational case can be made for libertarianism. But the same case can be made for socialism and while both sound fine in theory, in practice they turn to shit.

But back to Big Country, because he really did say some things that made my inner mountain lion pounce across the table. I've comprised a list of things to never, ever, ever say unless you are intending to turn someone off and/or start a riot:

1. I'm really intelligent/really educated.
2. I don't live paycheck to paycheck/I have a lot of disposable income so I can do whatever I want.
3. So like, obviously, I am the most important person to me, and then it would be my wife/kids, and then after that like, my family. I don't think people are "called" or whatever to go overseas and neglect their families.
4. Yeah, I'm pretty selfish.
5. My passions in life are Alabama football and movies. (no, that's really all he could come up with)
6. I don't need to go to church because I, like, know all the dogma and religion and there's nothing new for me to learn.
7. Did I mention that I'm really intelligent/really educated?
8. Perhaps I should tell you that my family is also all very educated and are doing very well for themselves. And so am I.
9. I've been called judgmental...but I have good qualities, too.
10. Libertarianism is best because, like, if you wanted to help people you could open a store and help people and people like me who don't want to (my paraphrase) don't have to.
11. I don't know what it is, but all of my prayers get answered!
12. Poor people in this country are so much better off than in other countries. Here they have nice cars, HD televisions, running water...
13. I don't think I've mentioned that I'm really intelligent/really educated in a while. I just want to be clear than I am.
14. I'm very efficient at my job. My job isn't my passion but I have a lot of disposable income. I get in late and leave early if I can. "I hope you're not a workaholic because that's one of my pet peeves" (oh yes, that's a direct quote).
15. I didn't watch the movie Iron Lady because Meryl Streep is so left wing and Margaret Thatcher was conservative.

Seriously. We had that conversation. Or, should I say, he had that conversation and I ate my salad and his mac-n-cheese and drank about 4 glasses of Diet Coke. I told the waitress it (the DC) was the best part of my day, and I wasn't lying.

He claimed intelligence but confused it for opinion. He glorified selfishness as a positive character trait (typical for an Ayn Rand libertarian) and saw no need to help his neighbor because someone like me could set up a shop and do it. If you want to save the environment and the spotted owl, buy some land and go for it, but I'm going to dump my toxic waste all over my land because I can. He misunderstood and oversimplified poverty. He interrupted me several times to prove his "intelligence" over mine (but let's be honest, my IQ is higher). At several points I wanted to ask what happened in his past to make him so insecure, but I'm not in charge of his internal growth and development and part of me thinks he just really is that shallow.

Also, I totally peeked, and he's a terrible tipper.

Adventures in Online Dating, #2: "Conversations"

Yes, I put quotes around something. I hate quotation marks. People use them liberally when they should actually be used sparingly. But this time I mean it. The back and forth interactions of which I speak are not really conversations. They're "conversations."

Once the profile pre-screen is over, online dating takes you into the dialogue phase. There are different ways to do this. The first steps are "guided conversations" where you answer prescribed questions and send them to the other person, and vice versa. The questions give you four answer choices or you can write your own in the space provided. If someone were to analyze the question selection, I bet the results would be pretty interesting. I mostly get the same questions.

Then come the Must Haves and Can't Stands. As in, I must have someone who is believes in fidelity and I can't stand someone who lies. Again, you chose from a pre-written list and choose five in each category. There are really strange ones on there. I'm probably revealing my personal biases here, but the ones I find most offensive are ones like "I can't stand someone who is overweight" and "I must have someone who is considered attractive by current standards." Isn't it a given that you're going to date someone who you find attractive and you won't date someone you find repulsive? Perhaps not.

After this, if you continue through the guided portion of your tour, you get to the open ended questions. You can pick from another prescribed list (I wish I could judge the poor souls who need that much help, but let's be honest - we're on the same website) or make up your own. This can be another dumb step in the process or you can make it fun - like having someone else answer the questions for you. My married-for-seven-years bff gave me some ideas for answers. Luckily the send button was not hit before her answers were erased, but her responses to the question "besides love, what's one thing you think is necessary for a successful relationship" were hysterical. I finally settled on something banal like communication, but it was understood to be code for "you have to be able to fight well."

Finally, there is the email section. It's like normal email but you don't have email addresses - you just email through the website. This seems to only take a couple times and then they ask for your number and say "if you'd like to chat..." Then you are free to be regular people with real conversations. And then the OD site gets to add you into a statistic - on one side of success or the other.

Adventures in Online Dating, Part 1: The Pre-Screen

I realized my chances of meeting any males my age decreased significantly when I graduated from my masters program and took a job at a small nonprofit with a 98% female staff. It took the suggestion of my bbf, though, to make me sit down and start a profile on a well known online dating (OD) site. I have too much pride for that and I think the whole thing is a little hokey and weird. It took me nearly a week to finish the pages and pages and pages and pages and pages of questions, but I finally did and the first thing I noticed was the RIDICULOUS amount of emails I started getting. I was getting a shit ton already just from having visited the site, but now I was getting matched with waaaaay too many guys to actually go through all of those profiles. I may or may not have opened a new email account that only gets emails from that OD site. And by that I mean I definitely opened a new email account. I was tired of getting email after email after email and then having to delete 120 emails at once. That's only a slight exaggeration.

So the site itself is not super intuitive and the number of emails is pretty insane. That aside, I have had the chance to view many (many...many...) profiles of men aged 25-34 (with some random 42 year olds thrown in). It was both mind bottling and mind blowing. It was like a mind galaxy imploding and then exploding. I immediately formulated a mental two-step pre-screening system based on trends I saw in their profiles:

It's not the pudgy puppy
I have a problem with.
It's his fans.

Round one gets strikes and moves pretty quickly. If they mention college football more than once, one strike. If they mention college football in conjunction with more than two other sports, two strikes. If they mention UGA or the Dawgs specifically, three strikes and they're out. The same goes for the number of pictures they have of themselves holding an alcoholic beverage, number of photos taken of themselves by themselves with their iPhone, and number of pictures of themselves in anything besides shorts above the knee with a polo and deck shoes in a stadium. Essentially any combination of strikes can eliminate someone from the running.

If they pass that triage phase, they move on to round two - the points phase. This phase is a little trickier. It's similar to the grading system of awarding points based on how many desired terms and phrases you have present in a paper; however, for this test, you can also have points taken away for certain words and phrases. Points have been deducted and profiles deleted from my inbox for phrases like "I must have someone who is considered 'very attractive' by most current standards" and "I haven't read any books lately because I don't like to read." Seriously. Guys wrote that. At least lie about the book thing. Otherwise you just sound lame.

I have no idea what this is. Google images
suggested it when I typed in honesty,
so it must be applicable.

But points can be won for words like friendship, honesty, and companion (though one guy was disqualified because he mentioned honesty in EVERY SECTION of his profile. Yes, I mean for that part to be yelled). For phrases like, "I just want to get to know someone and spend time with someone." For mentions of humor, kindness, their dogs, and their best friends. When they list a book they've read that is actually a book an adult would read.

At the end of the day, I guess the myriad of questions are kind of useful. You can get a basic sense of whether someone is literate or not, and it's helpful in terms of knowing whether someone smokes or if someone only wants pretty people to apply. It can just get tedious and overwhelming. And how can you really know if you like someone until you meet them?

Like a two year old.

I'm gonna tell you a story about a girl named Anna. When I say Anna, I'm referring to myself. I'm Anna (I may have just watched Bridesmaids like 3 times in one week).

So I know I have anxiety. I take all the right benzodiazopines and I'm trying (ok, going to try) to find a new CCCG-er to westside talk it out. It's not crippling anymore and it's basically really ok. Except when there are super stressful situations and then I usually climb in bed and hold on to some pillows. Until recently, though, I'd just lumped everything under the general anxiety category but I'm beginning to think there are multiple parts. Like separation anxiety. As an adult. Not a two year old. So weird.

It was just recently that I realized this when two things happened that made me stop and think: one, I was leaving Seattle and my mom texted to say she and Pops were going to bed and to text them in the morning when I got home. I texted back, but was immediately overcome with the feeling that if I didn't call her and tell her I loved her, something bad was going to happen and I would never get the chance to ever talk to her again. And then, when my bffs dropped me off at the airport, I had a panic moment and almost called them to come back because I was sure that if I didn't hug them one more time, something terrible would happen and I would never see them again. Sensing a theme? Me too. That lead to a time of reflection and introspection and the next obvious move: 

I googled it at the airport.

From my obviously professional clinical diagnosis after reading the online version of the DSM-IV, I don't have Adult Separation Anxiety Disorder - that sounds really scary. But I realized that I do have some of the symptoms. Por ejemplo, I get really anxious when I leave certain people (attachment figure is the technical term) and I have frequent dreams of separation (where I can't be with or get to a particular person) especially after leaving said certain people. It's this terrible panic that I won't see them again - that something bad will happen - especially if I don't hug them long enough or tell them I love them right before we get off the phone or if I don't see them one last time before I leave. In undergrad I had real issues if I didn't end a conversation with my parents with an "I love you" and they said it back. I still feel that way sometimes - and about a handful more people - but I try to remember to be rational. No one has died because someone didn't hug them. They may have died and someone didn't hug them, but it wasn't a causal relationship.

The mind is a funny, funny thing...I just love when blogs get all personal, don't you?

Real Houses of Seattle, WA

Wow, primary colors much?

Hansel & Gretel warned us about this

And suddenly you're in Savannah

And then Miami.

There are lots like this one, though.
I like this one.

This is how you do wrought iron.

It's okay, we can't all be normal.

There's these things on Facebook these days about God and schools and prisons and other dumb shit like that. I suppose they've been around for a while but I've finally seen enough to write a snarky post about it. See Exhibit A:

My mouth is gaping. I can't think of anything to say. I'm rarely speechless. Just see Exhibit B:

No. That is not the
definition of irony.

I guess my problem with Exhibit A starts with the obvious - the whole separation of church and state thing. But let's move past that dumb law and talk about what really matters: God allowing violence in schools and blaming a lack of corporate religion in secular institutions on God's inability to stop it. Wait, let's just say His, as in His inability to stop it. Because God is a man, right, as indicated by the masculine font chosen for His signature. Perhaps, though, it is that God is not unable but simply unwilling to stop the violence. Or maybe God is neither unable nor unwilling, but rather is unaware that there is violence going on; however, Exhibit A suggests God knows it's happening and is not getting involved because some moronic human decided homeroom was going to be for studying and not praying. Yes, let's blame secularism for violence because Christians have never done anything violent ever. And I'm assuming we're talking about Christians here and not Muslisms or Jews (who also have a God) because only evangelical Christians would say Columbine happened because we all didn't pray enough. That's just bullshit. Kids are bullied and beaten and teased and humiliated because people of all ages really suck ass sometimes and often make decisions that harm other people. And they still would, with or without saying The Lord's Prayer before 2nd period.

Exhibit B. I've already noted that trivial law about separation of church and state and have indicated that perhaps the picture employs an incorrect use of the term irony. Though I must first note that the shackled Bible on the left is pretty funny. I actually didn't see it at first, but I think that's why the little boy is sad. Poor kid can't get to his rock hammer. Anyhow, back to irony. Irony refers to - hell, let's just google it. The third definition on Merriam Webster's website says that irony is the "incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result." Is the situation ironic in that you would expect a prison to not allow Bibles? Where else should a Bible to go but a dark place where there is no Light?? That's exactly where evangelicals should want the Bible to go! Hell, we should ship all Bibles from our churches to the prisons! I mean, Jesus is all about ransoming captives, right? And let's talk about little Timmy, who is so sad with his head in his hands. It's just so hard to go 8 hours without reading your Bible, what with all the time you spend at church and in your daily quiet time. And it is really hard to pray and think about Scripture (that you already should have memorized or you failed youth group) when you can't even think words inside your head without someone interrupting to say, "stop! Don't think that!" Wait...I think that was just a George Orwell novel. So is that the irony? That Timmy wants to read his Bible in school with all his friends during PE and can't because he has to run laps to avoid childhood obesity? Timmy, read your Bible during your school sponsored Christian club time. Perhaps, though, the author of the picture is simply trying to imply that he or she feels it is unexpected that the government allows (encourages even!) Bibles for big boys in prisons but not for little boys in schools.

But that would be myopic.

First Comes Love

That rhyme has always been a little off. Love, marriage, and the baby comes IN a baby carriage? I have witnessed love, marriage, and babies, and babies can hardly fit through 10cm - a carriage for damn sure isn't going to make it. Then again, I guess there are few words that rhyme with marriage.

Baby season is in full swing for my circle of friends. The love happened (lots of engagements about the same time) and the marriage, too (one year I was at or in 4 weddings in 3 months). Now it's baby time. I recently attended a party where at least 2/3 of the females estaron embarasada. And the couple of couple friends I have who aren't pregged yet are in semi-serious talks about timing.

I love babies. I'm over the moon for my niece. One of my best friends from high school is due in October (I'm rooting for the 19th). One of my close friends here in Atlanta is due in September. Another friend here in the ATL is due in December. An acquaintance - who went through three rounds of IVF - is finally pregs and due sometime October(ish). A girl with whom I'm friendly from our seminary days is due around the same time. The family for whom I babysit had their third child about 3 weeks ago. Babies. Babies to hold and rock and smell their Johnson&Johnson heads... I've semi-joked that my cutoff date to have kids is around 32. If there's no love or marriage, I still want a baby and its carriage.

I actually went to church today, though I wasn't late enough to miss the new, awkward "hospitality time." Crap. But the sermon was about trusting God to provide in the future because God provided in the past. Whatever. I don't know if I'm ready to universalize that claim, but I am excited about the possibility I could get a dog within the next year.

It's ok. She is the best thing since
sliced bread.

6 month evaluation

I recently had my 6 month eval at work and my one area of improvement was to answer the general phone line more often (though we all know that's not going to happen). I have also been doing my own evaluation of the past 6 months at the GA Lighthouse Foundation and these are some of the things I have learned:

Yep, that's pretty much it.

1. Eyeballs are gross. Really gross. And weird. And no one should have to get near them if they don't make the conscious decision to get a degree in optometry, especially not someone with degrees in business and theology. The grossest is when we have to poke people in the eyes to check their eye pressure. People roll their eyes all back up into their heads and squint really hard and it's really gross to try and pry someone's eye open. I also didn't think about how weird eyelids would be up close. Some people have really tight eyelids and tight skin on their faces, and some people have really puffy eyelids and really squishy skin. So weird. So gross. Eyes may be the window to your soul, but there is a respectful distance that should be maintained.

2. Mean people aren't the majority and you can stand up to them. There are a lot of seriously unpleasant people out there - people who feel entitled, who will never be satisfied with the services they receive, who find fault in everything, who are unwilling to compromise. Even though they feel like the majority because they're the loudest and most persistent, they really maybe make up 10% of the people we see. So I've started to stand up for myself. I have just as much right to say how I will or won't be treated as they have to be all pissy and crabby.

3. Compassion and pity aren't the same thing. Cognitively that's a no-brainer, but existentially it's a little more difficult. It's not a compassion I've ever been taught or felt before. It's an understanding and a caring for the hardness of life that some people experience, but it's not an emotional breakdown. I used to get teary when I read applications and saw how difficult things are for some people. But this compassion is a more like realization of what people are going through and trying to figure out what might bring them comfort. Most times it's just to listen.


4. I like baths. I've never been much of a bath person; I haven't ever really thought about them actually. It's not directly connected to the Lighthouse, but I've discovered this nugget in the past 6 months so I think it counts.