Wing Women

I was out on the town last weekend with my boss and a coworker and his wife. We were sitting around having drinks after attending a student's performance, when a relatively attractive guy comes around offering us hors d'oeuvres of homemade sausage (yes, you can snicker) from the party he was at there. My boss and coworker's wife looked at me and motioned "he's kind of cute, no?" When I nodded, within seconds they had somehow invited him to sit down with us, made him sit by me, and moved around to the other side of the table so he had to talk to me alone. It was some amazing workwomanship.

So I started friendly conversation with the sausage guy. After going through the how/where/why of homemade sausage-making, we moved on to work and play. He was in software design of some sort and was involved in some film projects, which was intruguing. I'm not sure exactly how it came up, but I knew this wasn't going to be a match when he didn't know who Judd Apatow was. He not only did not recognize the name, but hadn't even heard of the 40 Year Old Virgin or Knocked Up, much less Freaks and Geeks. Not that I'm the hugest fan, but I think they are funny and kind of pivotal in popular culture humor at the moment. Especially for a guy interested in acting and film making, right?!

So I gently set him free with well wishes. But I could not have asked for better wing women. (Though it is kind of a shock to have a boss play this roll in my life.) I didn't even know such a high level of skill in this craft existed. I may be taking them everywhere I go from now on.

Bitten by Twilight

My Christmas break involved the usual amount of retreating from the world, and I decided to use some of that time to finally pick up Twilight. I knew I had to try them in order to maintain my status as relatively knowledgeable about pop-culture (i.e., street-cred with my tween girls). And I knew enough reasonable people who loved them to be fairly sure it would be a fun frivolous way to escape for a while.

Of course, this time of year I am incredibly susceptible to being irrationally swept away by anything that helps me avoid my actual life, but I was immediately sucked in (like they warned). By the middle of day-two in bed with a cold and halfway through the second book, I realized that I desperately needed the next two books before I ran out. I NEEDED them. So three days, 2,548 pages, two movies, and one Google search for whether Kristin Stewart and Robert Pattinson are really dating later... I was done, but only mildly satiated.

I can't quite figure it out. I was literally laughing out loud at the ridiculousness in my hands and at my level of investment in this vapid teenage vampire soap opera. In addition to just bad writing, I had some major thematic concerns. I can forgive the ridiculously heavy abstinence message, whatever. I can just about forgive that Bella is always the one in the kitchen cooking for the men, probably because I'm jealous that she's obviously a better cook than I am. But I'm pretty sure this uber-popular model of undying true love is a actually a cleverly disguised sadomasochistic, codependent, generally dysfunctional relationship. As she is tossed around like a helpless rag-doll from one superhuman protector/ love interest to the next, all while worrying about keeping them happy, I wish more than anything that she would be allowed to unleash just one small dose of Buffy Summers. And does Bella even have any self-esteem?!

And yet I was compelled to read. I could barely put it down to go get something to eat. Heartbroken then sedated by each sliver of tenderness coming from her cold dark overprotective and isolating vampire love - right there in the alarming cycle of emotional control with her.

It must fill some kind of emotional need, right? I'm sure that in the sad state of my current (non)love life, a good dose of undeniable undying first love is attractive. Especially since my own relatively-magical first love is getting ready to marry someone else. And I know a little about Bella's constant need for validation from either Edward or Jacob and her happiness depending on how she perceives they feel about her (I very nearly was that girl once upon a time).

FYI, until book 4, I was pretty much Team Jacob. Not surprisingly, I prefer the warm best friend love-the-one-you're-with comfort of a werewolf to an all-consuming star-crossed infatuation with a stone cold vampire.

Thank god there are only four books. I really don't think that this is helping me maintain my ability to identify and participate in realistic and healthy romantic relationships...

UPDATE 1/10/10: But look, it's a teaching tool! That's why I was reading it... um, yeah. Rachel Simmons (my idol) developed activities to generate healthy discussion about Twilight with girls. Yes, I promise to put myself through the intervention first.

Waiting for Gilbert Blythe

I recently re-watched Anne of Green Gables the Sequel (my official excuse is girls weekend with my preteen niece, btw). Apparently, I swoon like a 12 years old girl all over again when Anne finally says yes to Gilbert on the bridge over the pond after having turned him down a year earlier when she foolishly thought she needed more glamor and romance than her small-town childhood sweetheart could give her...

I realized I might be holding out for Gilbert. The perfect handsome rival/best friend/boy next door/love of your life who is devoted to you despite knowing full well all of your faults, defenses, and silly romantic notions. The person you were supposed to be with all along, who was under your nose the whole time. Who fate handed to you. Complete fantasy?! Possibly.

Regardless, it's a far cry from online profiles, blind dates, messy break-ups, and running into a former flame for the first time since you parted ways only when you've gained ten pounds, have a cold, and haven't showered in two days.

My new approach to finding love: let other people do the dirty work for me. I'm recruiting a few select moms from school to find the love of my life for me. I'm picking good people who know good people... who might know a Gilbert-like adorable well-grounded guy, right? I am choosing these agents carefully, of course - the few down-to-earth parents who I'd hand my own children over to in a minute because they'd probably do a much better job than I could, who are socially connected but for all the right reasons.

We'll see how that goes or doesn't go for a while. Meanwhile I have a few other things to attend to...

Ghosts of Boyfriends Past

The season has changed. School is underway. Darkness is descending, inside and out. Squash soup. My birthday. Halloween. Rain.

Every time my windshield wipers stop mid-window when I turn off the car, I remember my big love at 20-22. He was generally an easy-going guy, but he was passionate that all windshield wipers should always return to their rightful fully-down resting position when you leave your car. I probably wouldn't be here today if that windshield wiper guy hadn't gotten it into his head to blindly love me an unreasonable amount when I happened to desperately need it the most, and I still carry his playful spirit with me everyday. I send a little cosmic apology out to him if I'm in too much of a hurry to turn the car back on to right the wiper situation. It's an odd but pleasant fleeting reminder of having really loved.

Quite a few gentlemen have come in and out of my life, each leaving a unique imprint - whether big and momentous, or small and odd, or both. They linger. Become a little part of who I am.

One of my best friends comes out of the radio with every song that makes me ask "who is that?", thanks to the year with my own personal DJ. The civic-minded environmental consultant who convinced me to use the library again comes out in overdue fines (and a smirk at old Kerry/Edwards bumper stickers which got him so worked up). I can't go through a produce section without a visit from the 7th grade boyfriend and a quick glance to see if they illegally placed organic produce on the same display as regular. Of course, I can't grab green tea mochi ice cream from the freezer case without thinking of the creativity I enjoyed with the Trader Joe's guy. I can't go around Greenlake without the Banker and his dog on my mind (and a quick stop to look for the turtles).

I owe this very blog to a combination of the Med Student and the Ironman triathlete - neither anywhere near qualify as boyfriends, but worth a mention.

The only spooky ghost is that of my high school sweetheart who is instantly conjered up by cheesy 80's love songs, Kidd Valley burgers, Lake Washington Blvd, any early 90's grey Toyota Camry that goes by... I know I am capable of loving with my whole heart in the first place because of him. Also because of him, I know how easily you can deeply wound yourself and the person you love. How you can scare off the people you need most when you withdraw in the face of Chaos instead of leaning and trusting. Still working on that one. Maybe a little haunting is good for me.

Hazards of Being Single

Have you seen the episode of 30 Rock when Jack tells Liz that he thinks a single woman's biggest fear should be choking to death alone in her apartment? [Cut to Liz trying to give herself the Heimlich while choking on her dinner that night...]

I'm afraid they might have a valid point. Especially since people are used to me falling off the face of the earth for days at a time. It could be a long time before anyone comes looking for my body.

I began seriously wondering about this last week when I got a bad flu bug. I became pretty weak and out of it, and I wondered what would happen if it got much worse. I wished I had someone to keep an eye on me, and wondered what it would be like to have someone to bring me my clear liquids or go buy saltines. Whether I would actually let anyone take care of me much is another issue, but in my illness induced delirium, it felt unfair that I was being deprived of the option.

I also wonder if lack of access to built in care-taking could also prolong illness. I'm willing to bet that you recover faster if you are less taxed in caring for yourself. Although I suppose it depends on how willingly and patiently your caretaker does their job. If nothing else, if there is someone else around, isn't the return to normalcy easier? I can lay around for days beyond when I really still need to if there is no accountability.

So there you have it. My new theory on actual health hazards of being single. So much for the merits of being an independent woman. Or maybe I don't need a partner, I just need a good roommate...

But the real point is that I am kind of hoping I have found the mysterious answer to why I get sick so often and stay sick for so long. Do you think that is too big of a leap? I also happen to blame not being able to get up on time in the morning on being single, as well. (Come on, it is so much easier to get up when someone you are happy to see in the morning is getting up too.)

But I have vowed not to blame my problems on men, or my lack there of. So, I'm going to stop there.

Pushing Daisies

Sadly, ABC has canceled one of my favorite shows. Pushing Daisies was a unique, stylized, and charming show, unlike anything else I've seen on TV (except maybe the creator's other under-appreciated show, Wonderfalls).

When I first saw the ads for it, I wasn't interested. It was a weird looking show about a man who can bring the dead back to life for a minute. How would it help to bring someone back for only a minute? That's just playing with corpses. Ew.

But I happened to catch the show, and I was immediately won over. Extremely well-cast and well-written, the characters, the stories, every visual element, even the lilt of the narrator's voice fit a consistent creative vision for a product that was quirky, magical, heart-warming, and tragic, all at the same time. The colorful subtly vintage-inspired costumes (of course, I'm a sucker for that). The equally colorful just slightly cartoonish sets. The slightly ridiculous murder mysteries they solve along the way - at the circus, at the dog show, at the magic show, at a showroom for cars that run on dandelions, at a honey-based beauty product company where someone fell victim to a killer swarm of bees, and of course, the olfactory assistant who was killed when her scratch-'n-sniff book combusted.

How could we not love the former synchronized swimming aunts, Vivian and Lillian (Swoozie Kurtz), with their hit "mermaid" carnie act?! Or Olive Snook (Kristin Chenoweth), the "Pie Hole" waitress and former jockey, so worried she'll give away a secret that she goes undercover at a convent?! Or Emerson Cod, big gruff opportunistic PI, who spends his free time knitting and making pop-up mystery books?! And, of course, the bittersweet tragedy of childhood sweethearts, the once-dead bee-keeping girl named Chuck and Ned, the humble pie maker whose strange gift accidentally killed her father. A love that has precariously circumvented death, but is condemned to never be able to actually touch [sigh].

Right now, we need magical realism. We don't need more grim crime-solving shows lingering in the darkest parts of our society (much as I love them). We need to be charmed and delighted, and gently be made to feel longing and compassion.

Apparently, there are three more episodes that ABC may still air this summer. And we can relive it on the internet and DVD. But like Arrested Development before it (and My So Called Life, Sports Night, Studio 60, Veronica Mars...), it is gone before it's time. And it is entirely our loss.

Rest in peace, Pushing Daisies.

25 Things

There's a chain-letter like activity spreading like crazy through Facebook called "25 Random Things About Me". When someone sends it to you, you write a list of 25 random facts, habits, or goals about yourself. Then you send it to 25 friends, including the person who sent it you. It's a big online "get to know you" game.

Unlike many other viral fads, most people are actually doing it. Something about the format and the popularity make it worth the effort. I think we want to share ourselves. And there is beauty in the mundane details. Every list I've read has something delightfully surprising about the person and something that makes me feel a little less alone in my "hidden" foibles and neuroses. Here's my 25:

1. My greatest fear is going crazy/losing my mind/losing touch with reality. I honestly worry about it happening to me. And then I panic that I might really make it happen by worrying about it too much...

2. I’ve kept a list of favorite kids’ names since I was 12 (even through my phase when I wasn't sure I wanted kids), but I've started using them on pets (and cars) just in case I never get to use them on kids.

3. I am at my most content on the way back down a mountain with a happy dog at my side.

4. I have always wanted to be a foster parent.

5. I don’t think I like my cats (Oliver and Violet) as much as I should. I take their rejection personally.

6. I take everything personally. Or at least I used to.

7. I hate talking on the phone; I rarely answer it and often don’t call people back (please don't take it personally!).

8. I love Facebook because I can communicate with lots of wonderful people without the pressure of having to actually talk to them. And I love blogging because I can pour my heart out without the immediate risk of judgment or rejection. Yes, I hide behind technology. But I used to just hide, so I see this as major progress.

9. I really enjoy picking my nose.

10. I’ve watched General Hospital on and off for about 15 years, at times taping it daily.

11. I love to sing Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now” to my cabins/tents of kids at lights out, but I’m always terrified when I start it. Then they always love it (or at least don’t complain) which gives me faith in sharing your heart.

12. My favorite movie is easily Dirty Dancing. But one of my other favorites, the Philadelphia Story, is the one I usually claim in public.

13. I think there’s nothing in the world like someone sticking up for you.

14. I am often simultaneously confident that I know everything and convinced that I am completely wrong about everything.

15. I usually cry whenever I see someone else tear up. But I often have trouble crying when I am upset.

16. I'll drink champagne for any reason from celebration to misery.

17. My glory days seem to have been breaking summer swim league records as an 8 & under and starring in my middle school musicals. Oh, and winning Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie tickets in a hula-hoop contest at a St. Bridget’s dance in 6th grade - that was rad.

18. What I want to “do” with my life changes weekly, sometimes daily. Currently rotating between school counselor (again), art teacher, and interior designer. Or dream job: children's book author/illustrator.

19. I am very grateful that I love my current job so I have some time to maybe figure out what's next.

20. I wish people would ask me more questions, especially about the challenging things in my past.

21. I’ve been in love 3 times. And still love each of them.

22. I’ve never broken a bone or had a cavity (yet).

23. I’ve always wanted glasses for their fun fashion accessory potential.

24. I am afraid of the dark, and I have to sleep with a light on in the hall.

25. I am a often paralyzed by perfectionism (and typed this list in Word first).

Go ahead, make your own list... everyone is doing it!

Romantic Comedies Must Die

Remind me when this became my life? (Apparently we're back to that.)

I just watched the Jane Austin Book Club (neither the film nor the book were as fantastic as I hoped - try The Reading Group instead. But anyway...). When they got to the end where the right people finally kiss, I didn't get the heartwarming reaction I usually get in spite of myself. I just wanted to cry. It's a mean trick they play. They suck me into their world where people in relationships are only a fraction of the complicated and guarded mess that they are in real life (myself included). It's not real, but I enter the dangerous territory of wishing it was. And any image of people waking up next to each other makes me ache with longing. Bad combination.

Interestingly, the two most recent inappropriate men both resurfaced briefly last week. Karmic Pop Quiz? I managed to retain my dignity and walk away, although one of them more easily than the other. Luckily, I have good friends to help the "stop it/don't go there" voice be louder than the others for now...

P.S. on 2.13.08: I may not have technically walked away from one of them after all. Somehow I got sucked back in and even ended up asking/daring the football coach to meet for another drink. I was feeling momentarily tough. He doesn't get to flirt with me anymore if he doesn't mean it. Apparently. Luckily, he said he was busy. So I called him a wimp. And so goes the 7th grade banter...

What is wrong with me?! Just walk away, lady. Logic and self-preservation have obviously abandoned me. I blame pheromones.