I'm not sure why, but Gift Certificate day at work ignites my inspiration to write about the things I see and read. I was taking a short break away from this daunting task by scrolling through my Facebook feed when I came across an article entitled: "Why Good Guys Need to Expect More from Modern Women" (Go here to read said article: http://elitedaily.com/dating/gentlemen/why-good-guys-need-to-expect-more-from-modern-women/ ). The picture attached to the article shows some modelesque 22 year old boy with a chiseled and sculpted body frame, serenading an equally young and chiseled blond girl. The first thing I'm thinking is that this image immediately underscores the message that good looking men, woo good looking women and everyone ends up happily ever after. However, the thesis of this New York man's article is summed up in his assumption that "too many good men are settling for lesser women." Not at all what the image attached portrays.
I'm fairly appalled by this article for several reasons, but mainly at the fact that the message the author, ne comedian, Joe Welkie is presenting is completely one sided. Welkie asserts that "girls place themselves on a very high pedestal" and sit back with no effort and wait for the men to, as Welkie puts it, "impress these girls and [do] whatever they want [by] catering to their needs." I get what Welkie is trying to do--he's trying to deconstruct our social construct surrounding gender mating rules. However, what he really accomplishes is sounding like a pretentious asshole. There is merit to his arguments, but it's not just women who "let flame[s] die...because [they] know other guys are waiting in line for their chance." This idea is not a one-sided gender issue--it's a cultural issue.
We definitely live in the "it's all about me, selfie, entitlement culture," so to presume that any individual, male or female is apathetically inclined to put effort into anything, especially a relationship should not come across as at all shocking. What is shocking is that Welkie seems to think that women are the only ones who play the game of making a member of the opposite sex work for their attention because they are selfishly inclined to believe that suitors are lined up down the street just vying for a chance to take them on date. Men do it too--and it's not a gender issue--it's a superficial better-than-you-I deserve the best-will take no flaws-Hollywood has made me believe in fairy tales--cultural mating dilemma.
I live in Charleston, South Carolina--voted one of the top ten places for beautiful people in the United States, and a male to female ratio of 1:5. When it comes to finding a potential mate, the options are endless for aesthetically pleasing individuals. Remember, we live in the culture where I am more important than you--I am prettier than you--and when you exist in that culture, everyone--male and female--are looking for the chiseled, flawless individual to drag along as a comodified piece of arm candy. Welkie mourns that he "doesn't even know what league he is in anymore" and that he has been "brainwashed by women to think that [he's] still not good enough." What Welkie clearly does not understand is that it is not women, or even men for that matter that has made him feel like he is not pitching in the right league anymore, or that he has been brainwashed by Sirenical type women.
This issue that Welkie brings up is real for all of us. Male or female, no one feels good enough anymore because we are constantly trying to craft ourselves to be better than others. Yes, media does feed into that idea whether it's through Facebook, Twitter, or superficial apps like Tinder. The most important thing that Welkie, and people who believe like him fail to recognize is that we are all flawed individuals. Finding "the one" is hard, but it is also predicated on the fact that we universally recognize that my life is not about me, and that yes, I am flawed, but so is that other person who I am trying to get to know. It's not about chiseled abs, large bank accounts, and blond curly hair that falls below your shoulders--it's about a flawed person, meeting another flawed person somewhere in the middle.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Monday, March 31, 2014
No, No, No--Not Noah
The past few days my Facebook feed has been bombarded by people plunging into icy cold water, posting photos of themselves without makeup, and now complaining about how unbiblical the new Noah film is. Our society is overtly self-centered and everyone has an opinion on something (myself included--I do realize) but how are any of these things providing positive contributions to society? Ok--the polar plunge--as annoying as the videos are, at least is being used as a means to raise monetary funds to support a specific cause. But the Noah bashers--why?
First off let me say this--I am Christian. I am well versed on the Bible. And I do follow Biblical principle. That being said--when was the last time any of you went to see a film based on a book and the film turned out to be exactly like the book? Never. How many of you still go to those movies knowing that the movie will be different and that Hollywood is capitalizing on your enjoyment of entertainment? Further more, since when do we care more about hollywood's selfish capitalization off of entertainment, more than we do on drug companies capitalizing off of the sick?
Ok, so we've got the Noah film, which according to most of what I've read doesn't follow along with the Biblical text, and even worse--wait for it--shows Noah and company wearing stitched clothing that of course would not have been available during the time of Noah. These so-called critiques are so adamant on the evil nature of the film that they even cast judgment on the representation of Noah as being suicidal--of course this makes Noah most un-Godly. Like any text, the Bible is a subjective piece of art (even if we believe it to be divinely inspired) that is up for interpretation.
With that being said, have you ever stopped to think about how Noah might have felt when God came down and told him to kill off the entire population of mankind? Furthermore, how might it have felt to be stuck on a rocky wooden boat full of smelly animals without sight or hope of land? I would rather think, that like any normal human being, and believe it or not, Noah was one--would have felt imense human fear and possible thoughts of suicide.
Some of these Noah critiques claim that the film mythicizes the Flood story--I hate to inform, but Noah has already been mythicized. As a child growing up in a conservative church environment, we were taught all the Bible stories and saw each character as his or her own hero. All these characters were strong and overcame their weaknesses, but it was rarely emphasized upon that these characters were humans. They were not perfect. They were not always Saintly. Stories like the Flood, Samson and Delilah, Moses, and Abraham's test all fail to emphasize the full depth of the struggle the characters underwent fulfilling God's commands. As humans, I'm sure depression, thoughts of suicide, and even extreme anxiety were emotions that these individuals underwent. There ability to emotion is what makes them human, and even capable of fulfilling the Creator's tasks.
Why is it wrong for an artist to take a story and paint a real picture of what a real human would have felt upon God's demand to kill off all humankind? After all, haven't we mythicized Noah, Moses, and Abraham enough? Haven't we Sainted them over and over again as perfect followers, when they were no better than any of us? We are all flawed people. Our own judgment of a human made film only serves to underscore the intensity of flaws that we all cary with us.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Tinder Moments
I recently went out of town with a good friend of mine, and upon becoming bored with our own company, we decided to seek out friendship an instantaneous way. Where does one go when in search of an immediate friendship? Why online of course! Another friend of mine had been playing around with, and trying to get me to download this phone app where you can meet guys--I know there are a lot of them out there, and quite honestly, I've avoided such endeavors and applications because I just think it's weird and uncertain. Also, it should be no surprise to anyone that I'm not really looking for a serious relationship right now. Sure, maybe I should be now that I've hit the big 3-0, but oddly enough, the older I get, the more comfortable and satisfied I become with my spontaneous freedom.
So, because of this self-entitled freedom, we both decided to download an app called "Tinder." I'm probably like the old grandma right now whose mind has been blown by seemingly self-discovering this new world of technological interaction, and it need not be a surprise to anyone that this application is bluntly superficial and perpetuates egotistical ideals of self.
Nevertheless, this app became somewhat of an obsessive game for us both as we sat side by side in a dimly lit bar, speeding through hundreds of men--swiping left for no and right for yes. When a successful right swipe had taken place by both parties, an image would pop up proclaiming "it's a match!" The excitement surrounding the successes--possibly fueled by our beer intake--caused us to look up from our phones and socially interact with one another in astonishment of the process. Before we knew it we had stacked up a nice little list of potential male suitors--suitors that might I add, we never met.
Upon returning to Charleston the fun continued and during times of boredom my friend and I would open Tinder and continue the swipe game. It wasn't long before we had a long list of Charleston suitors--more suitors we didn't intend to meet. After several days of this, my friend finally proclaimed that she had made it to the end of her tinder men matches, and upon looking at the app I realized I had too. Of course with all these people on here, and both of us having gone through the entire lineup of eligible bachelors in the Charleston area, we were sure to have some of the same matches.
I wanted to do some social research--pure, raw, social research. Driving home from my night class, I called up my friend and invited her over to my apartment for wine and cheese and a little game. I rushed home, uncorked my biggest and finest selection of Trader Joe's Cabernet Sauvignon and plugged in my iPhone--it was going to need to be at full power for the evening's events.
Around 8 that evening, my friend showed up and we immediately started partaking in the wine and talking about life, work, money--all boring stuff--but then the topic turned to relationship issues. Ok, this is where I wanted to go. I went in my bedroom and unplugged my phone, which fortunately was showing a 90% battery life, and opened my Tinder app.
"You know Iz, I have to wonder--we've both been playing on this app for over a week now, and I'm sure we have to have some similar matches. I think we should play a little Go Tinder Fish."
With both apps open, and the red wine flowing, I started to go through the list of men that I had messaged.
"Do you have any Brads? No? No, Brads? mmmmmk. Do you have any Johns? Yes! a match!"
The rules and interactions of the game had quickly changed, and Iz and I were now making matches of our matches. In a world where we are all so busy, yet so unbusy, our social interactions have quickly turned technological, and I was curious to know if these interactions had erased personability and if desires to know and understand others was based on mutual interest, or pure, raw, and shallow image alone. We started going through the messages.
"OMG--John matched you too? Have you messaged him? What did he say?"
Iz--"He wanted to meet me tonight at Red Drum!"
"No! Shut the front door. He asked me that too! Wait, don't you have a picture on your Tinder with both of us in it? "
It's certainly not surprising that someone was talking to the same person at once, or even that the individual didn't recognize that the two people he was talking to were friends. Vintage dating protocol would have been void of any type of social media, and would have occurred purely through chance occurrences and spontaneous phone interactions. With our ever increasing technological capabilities we now have the ability to essentially meet anyone at anytime regardless of whether or not we would ever come across them in our daily interactions. With facebook and twitter we know who they are talking to, where they hang out, and even what they are thinking without ever having to talk to them. And with Tinder, we can even tell how many fish someone has on their line at the pond.
I'm not saying Tinder is bad, but maybe for me it's a bit much. I'd like to think that there is something more magical at work in our lives when it comes to the friends we make, and the romantic relationships we partake in. There is more mystery and excitement in spontaneously combusting with someone you met at a friend's party than there is to swiping right to someone on a dating app. So, I guess the only tinder moments in my life for now are the ones created with my friends over a too large bottle of Trader Joe's red wine, a tray of proscuitto and mozerella bruchetta, and a good ole' fashion game of Go Fish.
So, because of this self-entitled freedom, we both decided to download an app called "Tinder." I'm probably like the old grandma right now whose mind has been blown by seemingly self-discovering this new world of technological interaction, and it need not be a surprise to anyone that this application is bluntly superficial and perpetuates egotistical ideals of self.
Nevertheless, this app became somewhat of an obsessive game for us both as we sat side by side in a dimly lit bar, speeding through hundreds of men--swiping left for no and right for yes. When a successful right swipe had taken place by both parties, an image would pop up proclaiming "it's a match!" The excitement surrounding the successes--possibly fueled by our beer intake--caused us to look up from our phones and socially interact with one another in astonishment of the process. Before we knew it we had stacked up a nice little list of potential male suitors--suitors that might I add, we never met.
Upon returning to Charleston the fun continued and during times of boredom my friend and I would open Tinder and continue the swipe game. It wasn't long before we had a long list of Charleston suitors--more suitors we didn't intend to meet. After several days of this, my friend finally proclaimed that she had made it to the end of her tinder men matches, and upon looking at the app I realized I had too. Of course with all these people on here, and both of us having gone through the entire lineup of eligible bachelors in the Charleston area, we were sure to have some of the same matches.
I wanted to do some social research--pure, raw, social research. Driving home from my night class, I called up my friend and invited her over to my apartment for wine and cheese and a little game. I rushed home, uncorked my biggest and finest selection of Trader Joe's Cabernet Sauvignon and plugged in my iPhone--it was going to need to be at full power for the evening's events.
Around 8 that evening, my friend showed up and we immediately started partaking in the wine and talking about life, work, money--all boring stuff--but then the topic turned to relationship issues. Ok, this is where I wanted to go. I went in my bedroom and unplugged my phone, which fortunately was showing a 90% battery life, and opened my Tinder app.
"You know Iz, I have to wonder--we've both been playing on this app for over a week now, and I'm sure we have to have some similar matches. I think we should play a little Go Tinder Fish."
With both apps open, and the red wine flowing, I started to go through the list of men that I had messaged.
"Do you have any Brads? No? No, Brads? mmmmmk. Do you have any Johns? Yes! a match!"
The rules and interactions of the game had quickly changed, and Iz and I were now making matches of our matches. In a world where we are all so busy, yet so unbusy, our social interactions have quickly turned technological, and I was curious to know if these interactions had erased personability and if desires to know and understand others was based on mutual interest, or pure, raw, and shallow image alone. We started going through the messages.
"OMG--John matched you too? Have you messaged him? What did he say?"
Iz--"He wanted to meet me tonight at Red Drum!"
"No! Shut the front door. He asked me that too! Wait, don't you have a picture on your Tinder with both of us in it? "
It's certainly not surprising that someone was talking to the same person at once, or even that the individual didn't recognize that the two people he was talking to were friends. Vintage dating protocol would have been void of any type of social media, and would have occurred purely through chance occurrences and spontaneous phone interactions. With our ever increasing technological capabilities we now have the ability to essentially meet anyone at anytime regardless of whether or not we would ever come across them in our daily interactions. With facebook and twitter we know who they are talking to, where they hang out, and even what they are thinking without ever having to talk to them. And with Tinder, we can even tell how many fish someone has on their line at the pond.
I'm not saying Tinder is bad, but maybe for me it's a bit much. I'd like to think that there is something more magical at work in our lives when it comes to the friends we make, and the romantic relationships we partake in. There is more mystery and excitement in spontaneously combusting with someone you met at a friend's party than there is to swiping right to someone on a dating app. So, I guess the only tinder moments in my life for now are the ones created with my friends over a too large bottle of Trader Joe's red wine, a tray of proscuitto and mozerella bruchetta, and a good ole' fashion game of Go Fish.
Friday, December 20, 2013
I won't be Home For Christmas, but.....
To no doing of my own, I will be spending Christmas on the solo in Charleston this year. I haven't really felt the Christmas spirit this year--see my previous blog here, but today I came across a little gem that, through the months of November and December became my religion. I think anyone who grew up from the 60's through the 90's can attest. Behold, the Sears Wish Book:
Long before the Internet, facebook, and emailing Santa Clause, the Wish Book provided kids across the nation with the ability to circle gift favorites with big chunky crayons, and fold down page corners so that no parent was left unsure of what to get their kids for Christmas. The arrival of this book to my Grandparent's house marked the start of the season, and since I spent most of my afternoons after preschool, or regular school at my grandparent's house, flipping through the Wish Book, and the lesser J.C. Penney Christmas catalog was a completely legitimate, and exciting way to pass the time until my mom came to retrieve me. The only semblance of Christmas spirit I have found this season, has been my own flashback to my childhood as I remember all the cool gifts I got for Christmas. So in no particular order, I give you, my all time favorite Christmas gifts from days past--and yes, I'm sure I saw them first in the Wish Book.
1. Teddy Ruxpin: The first Christmas I remember celebrating was crazy awesome, and there were a lot of cool gifts present. One of my favorites this year was Teddy Ruxpin. The cool thing about Teddy Ruxpin, was that he could be hooked to pal Grubby--who my mom will always remember me lamenting not coming with Teddy. Apparently Teddy cost about $70, even way-back-when in the 80's, so I'm thankful I had him. By the way, my Teddy had a super trendy clothing line. Duh.
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2. Firefly My Little Pony: That same Christmas--like I said, it was pure, unadulterated magic--pure--I noticed, first thing my favorite My Little Pony in a large stuffed form. I've always been whimsical, magical, and imaginary so of course the winged Pegasus, Firefly My Little Pony was my favorite.
3. Snoopy Plush: Somewhere between 4 and Kindergarten, I had a slight obsession with Snoopy. I realllllly wanted a plush snoopy, I mean really, really wanted one. Thank goodness Santa is in the business of providing miracles, and thank goodness my parents were able to find one after scouring all of Atlanta Georgia. I don't know where my original Snoopy is, and by the way, he too had a pretty kicking wardrobe thanks to my Granny, but my good ole' Pop still remembers my love for the Snoopy and I have two Snoopy plushes now.
4. Lavender Purple Unicorn Bike: Woah! Obviously, I had an obsession with all things magical, purple, whimsical, etc...etc...it only makes sense that this bike made it into my living room the Christmas
morning of my Kindergarten year.
Sadly, there are no pictures on the
Internet of this little charm.
5. Lil Miss Makeup Doll: So yeah, this doll looks like a little baby
prostitute for reals--but, nothing brought me greater joy than taking
the little makeup sponge and dipping it in water to wipe this doll's
makeup on and off.
6. Three Story A-Frame Barbie Dream House: Was tha shit! I mean, way to live that American Dream Barbie--way to live it! This house could do so many things, and because it was in three pieces you could create multiple dream style homes for Barbie and friends.
7. Aladdin Bean Bag Chairs: Yeah--there were two. As it would happen, I got a brother along the way so those four years of baller Christmases where I got all the gifts were days gone by. Not to be sad though, because me and the brother got these bad boy bean bag chairs. As we got older, they became mechanisms with which to slide down the carpeted stairs on. Those chairs disappeared shortly after that trend.
8. Super NES: This has to be on most everyone's top most awesome Christmas gifts list. We had the NES and had just about killed our trigger fingers trying to kill that stupid Duck on Duck Hunt, when Santa did it again. He brought out the SNES and lots of games to go with it. And friends, this gift just keeps on giving, right on into the 21st Century. After years of bonding over Donkey Kong, and The Lion King, My brother and I finally beat the games in 2008. Much thanks to modern technologies like youtube that helped us defeat super difficult levels that no child should ever be expected to defeat on their own.
9. Mall Madness: The best board game EVER created. There's a sale at. the. sun. glasses. shop. It tried really hard to teach me about commodities and the dangerous of over spending--Bank Closed, and Sorry! Try again Later! were classic responses from the game's banking system.
10. Oh Jenny Dreamworld Play set: I'm not even sure kid's still play with doll houses or anything of the like with the modern advent of the Internet and games like the Sims, but I loved this little mini family set made by Matchbox. Placing this house and its components on the stone hearth we had in our house created extra magic.
11. NKOTB, AKA, New Kids on the Block stuff: You definitely had the right stuff if you were sporting anything NKOTB. One Christmas, I got a T-Shirt, a Cassette tape, annnnnd two NKOTB dolls. Whaaaaat.
Long before the Internet, facebook, and emailing Santa Clause, the Wish Book provided kids across the nation with the ability to circle gift favorites with big chunky crayons, and fold down page corners so that no parent was left unsure of what to get their kids for Christmas. The arrival of this book to my Grandparent's house marked the start of the season, and since I spent most of my afternoons after preschool, or regular school at my grandparent's house, flipping through the Wish Book, and the lesser J.C. Penney Christmas catalog was a completely legitimate, and exciting way to pass the time until my mom came to retrieve me. The only semblance of Christmas spirit I have found this season, has been my own flashback to my childhood as I remember all the cool gifts I got for Christmas. So in no particular order, I give you, my all time favorite Christmas gifts from days past--and yes, I'm sure I saw them first in the Wish Book.
1. Teddy Ruxpin: The first Christmas I remember celebrating was crazy awesome, and there were a lot of cool gifts present. One of my favorites this year was Teddy Ruxpin. The cool thing about Teddy Ruxpin, was that he could be hooked to pal Grubby--who my mom will always remember me lamenting not coming with Teddy. Apparently Teddy cost about $70, even way-back-when in the 80's, so I'm thankful I had him. By the way, my Teddy had a super trendy clothing line. Duh. 2. Firefly My Little Pony: That same Christmas--like I said, it was pure, unadulterated magic--pure--I noticed, first thing my favorite My Little Pony in a large stuffed form. I've always been whimsical, magical, and imaginary so of course the winged Pegasus, Firefly My Little Pony was my favorite.
3. Snoopy Plush: Somewhere between 4 and Kindergarten, I had a slight obsession with Snoopy. I realllllly wanted a plush snoopy, I mean really, really wanted one. Thank goodness Santa is in the business of providing miracles, and thank goodness my parents were able to find one after scouring all of Atlanta Georgia. I don't know where my original Snoopy is, and by the way, he too had a pretty kicking wardrobe thanks to my Granny, but my good ole' Pop still remembers my love for the Snoopy and I have two Snoopy plushes now.
4. Lavender Purple Unicorn Bike: Woah! Obviously, I had an obsession with all things magical, purple, whimsical, etc...etc...it only makes sense that this bike made it into my living room the Christmas morning of my Kindergarten year.
Sadly, there are no pictures on the
Internet of this little charm.
5. Lil Miss Makeup Doll: So yeah, this doll looks like a little baby
prostitute for reals--but, nothing brought me greater joy than taking
the little makeup sponge and dipping it in water to wipe this doll's
makeup on and off.
6. Three Story A-Frame Barbie Dream House: Was tha shit! I mean, way to live that American Dream Barbie--way to live it! This house could do so many things, and because it was in three pieces you could create multiple dream style homes for Barbie and friends.
8. Super NES: This has to be on most everyone's top most awesome Christmas gifts list. We had the NES and had just about killed our trigger fingers trying to kill that stupid Duck on Duck Hunt, when Santa did it again. He brought out the SNES and lots of games to go with it. And friends, this gift just keeps on giving, right on into the 21st Century. After years of bonding over Donkey Kong, and The Lion King, My brother and I finally beat the games in 2008. Much thanks to modern technologies like youtube that helped us defeat super difficult levels that no child should ever be expected to defeat on their own.
9. Mall Madness: The best board game EVER created. There's a sale at. the. sun. glasses. shop. It tried really hard to teach me about commodities and the dangerous of over spending--Bank Closed, and Sorry! Try again Later! were classic responses from the game's banking system.
10. Oh Jenny Dreamworld Play set: I'm not even sure kid's still play with doll houses or anything of the like with the modern advent of the Internet and games like the Sims, but I loved this little mini family set made by Matchbox. Placing this house and its components on the stone hearth we had in our house created extra magic. 11. NKOTB, AKA, New Kids on the Block stuff: You definitely had the right stuff if you were sporting anything NKOTB. One Christmas, I got a T-Shirt, a Cassette tape, annnnnd two NKOTB dolls. Whaaaaat.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
This is Real Life, and This...is Real Christmas
I used to love Christmas time. The holiday season would start as my family woke up to Macy's Christmas parade, and the smell of turky in the oven. The family would gather around a huge southern meal and then press repeat as we trotted over to my Granny and Paw's house to enjoy another gorge fest. Then, shortly after, and in some rare occasions, on the same day, I would celebrate my birthday by shaking and tearing off pieces of wrapping paper from birthday presents that sat under our already decorated Christmas tree. After my birthday, the countdown for Christmas was on, and a good indicater that we were getting close came in a large, brown UPS box from Pensylvania. My brother and I would wage war against our parents and make peace pacts in order that mom and dad would allow us to delve into the large box that contained our Christmas presents and homemade Christmas cookies from our Northern Grandmother and family. Once that brown UPS box was devoured, the days were numbered for when Christmas day would arrive with all it's magic and splendor. Our house was filled with warm smells of cookies, and delicious Christmas treats, the sounds of Christmas carols, and laughter from Christmas movie marathons.
Now, I'm an adult with two real adult jobs and to say that the magic and spirit of Christmas have been stripped from my life is a slight understatement. I have to work two jobs--it's the only way my bills, and more importantly, that nagging student loan get fed. Recently, my job has taken away our holiday days, and has left me unable to go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. With no days, and an ever shrinking budget, finding the financial means to take an upaid day off from work, plus buy everyone presents has been more than I can handle. People at work talk about going to the mountains for Christmas to open presents, or about attending holiday parties with copious amounts of food and alcohol (the new, adult spirit of Christmas) but I can't find myself being excited about any of it. I miss my magical Christmas with my family, and if I can't have that, then I might as well not have Christmas at all.
Now, at 30, my apartment shows no resemblance of Christmas, and those classic tunes and television shows that I once cherrished are no longer splashed across my television screen for weeks before the big day. Instead, I've come to realize how possible it is for people to truly disregard the season. There are pressures to go home--going home, when you can't afford it, there are pressures to buy people nice gifts and reflect your success when you hang out with family you haven't seen all year, and then even the stress of facing those in your family who have long since disregarded you.
Christmas for me was never about the material, it was about my family, the festivities, and the magic. It's been 13 years since that brown cardboard box come from Pensylvania, but this is the first year that the magic is gone for me.
Now, I'm an adult with two real adult jobs and to say that the magic and spirit of Christmas have been stripped from my life is a slight understatement. I have to work two jobs--it's the only way my bills, and more importantly, that nagging student loan get fed. Recently, my job has taken away our holiday days, and has left me unable to go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. With no days, and an ever shrinking budget, finding the financial means to take an upaid day off from work, plus buy everyone presents has been more than I can handle. People at work talk about going to the mountains for Christmas to open presents, or about attending holiday parties with copious amounts of food and alcohol (the new, adult spirit of Christmas) but I can't find myself being excited about any of it. I miss my magical Christmas with my family, and if I can't have that, then I might as well not have Christmas at all.
Now, at 30, my apartment shows no resemblance of Christmas, and those classic tunes and television shows that I once cherrished are no longer splashed across my television screen for weeks before the big day. Instead, I've come to realize how possible it is for people to truly disregard the season. There are pressures to go home--going home, when you can't afford it, there are pressures to buy people nice gifts and reflect your success when you hang out with family you haven't seen all year, and then even the stress of facing those in your family who have long since disregarded you.
Christmas for me was never about the material, it was about my family, the festivities, and the magic. It's been 13 years since that brown cardboard box come from Pensylvania, but this is the first year that the magic is gone for me.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
It's All Excess in Capitalism and the American Fair
I don't have to write to you about the time of extreme excess that we live in--it should be obvious. But then again, the very things I find to be obvious, really aren't so. Never-the-less, the Fair, in all it's modern glittering goodness, has historically always functioned as a capitalist space where laborers and trade merchants showed up to show off their animals and goods. Today, the fair has transformed into a showcase of excess--and I suppose, to some degree, fairs have always been about excess, but if our medieval ancestors could see us now, I think they would choke on their turkey legs and pursue immediate birth control options in order to prevent the future we have become.
The Fair has, and always will be middle class entertainment--but, to me, it seems that it has become more of a playground for the Plebeian Proletariat being duped by capitalist Bourgeoisie. I journeyed through two gates--one charging me $8 just to get into this fun fest, and another charging me $20 to participate in the rides. I'm a professional--I work two jobs, and live fairly comfortably, but $28 just to participate in a make-shift amusement park seemed a bit steep. Most important of all--I am single--a rare anomaly at the fair, I soon found out.
I entered a kind of sickening daze as I noticed screaming, sticky, slobbering obese children running amok through the grounds with plates piled high with sugary, greasy, fried desserts while their equally obese parents wobbled closely behind toting gigantic stuffed animals that probably cost them a days worth of wages to win--and need I mention the price it cost these non-birth control practicing parents to take their bratty litters of progeny to the fair for the day?
We are the generation of me, where ride neighbor, and even fellow carny are just exchangeable commodities. People rush around the fair consuming massive amounts of food, and throwing money away on the precept of winning gigantic prizes to impress their friends with and then return to their homes, bills unpaid, and locked into an inescapable poverty. It's a swirling mess of bright colors, muddy grounds, and a dream, an American Dream left dying in the past. But maybe the Fair is all some of us have got.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
So...This is 30
Tomorrow, at approximately 10am I will have inhabited this earth for 30 years. Thirty is a milestone to be sure and when people hit milestones they like to look back at all of life's accomplishments and be thankful for the opportunities they've had thus far. I'm not going to be a total emo and say that I'm not thankful for anything in my life because it's simply not true. In fact, I've sucked the marrow of life many times and have relished in opportunity and friendship. But how did I get here? A Bachelor's and an MA later, and tomorrow, on my 30th year of life I'm still working a job that makes me work Thanksgiving. It's not the worst, and I'm being especially cathartic, but on the eve of my birth, I ponder back 10 years and realize that this is not where I wanted to be at 30.
Twenty is a big year--you have an entire decade to make it into somebody, create a family, and maybe--if your lucky--purchase your first home. I always knew I'd get married at a later age, but I fully expected that by the age of thirty I would have at least secured myself into an adult, serious relationship. I more than expected to be in a stable career with at least five years into a secured pension and 401K plan. Yet, here I am. Thirty. I've dreaded it. I have pushed back tears over it as I realize I have no career, no husband, and no 401k, but instead a lot of school debt, and no real promise of ever making into my chosen career.
Another ten years looms in front of me--will things be different in another decade when I sit down in front of a computer to blog the years that brought me to 40? I don't know. Time is fleeting, and I want to be more than I am, but the dreams of family, career success, and economic security scare me so much that I have silently pushed them from my mind and replaced those thoughts with constant forced feelings of appal towards commitment, children, and people who settle into careers.
So thirty is the new twenty you say? I guess I stand on the brink of another set of expectations--another set of hopefulness that will drive the days of the next decade. Tomorrow is always another day, and thirty just another year on this planet of my existance. Maybe thirty will be suprising, maybe in this next set of years I will get to leave the chair behind the computer screen and find real joy and purpose somwhere. And so...this is 30.
Twenty is a big year--you have an entire decade to make it into somebody, create a family, and maybe--if your lucky--purchase your first home. I always knew I'd get married at a later age, but I fully expected that by the age of thirty I would have at least secured myself into an adult, serious relationship. I more than expected to be in a stable career with at least five years into a secured pension and 401K plan. Yet, here I am. Thirty. I've dreaded it. I have pushed back tears over it as I realize I have no career, no husband, and no 401k, but instead a lot of school debt, and no real promise of ever making into my chosen career.
Another ten years looms in front of me--will things be different in another decade when I sit down in front of a computer to blog the years that brought me to 40? I don't know. Time is fleeting, and I want to be more than I am, but the dreams of family, career success, and economic security scare me so much that I have silently pushed them from my mind and replaced those thoughts with constant forced feelings of appal towards commitment, children, and people who settle into careers.
So thirty is the new twenty you say? I guess I stand on the brink of another set of expectations--another set of hopefulness that will drive the days of the next decade. Tomorrow is always another day, and thirty just another year on this planet of my existance. Maybe thirty will be suprising, maybe in this next set of years I will get to leave the chair behind the computer screen and find real joy and purpose somwhere. And so...this is 30.
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