I hope that everyone had a great winter break. There were a variety of ways to enjoy our three weeks of sanity. I am sure several of you hit the slopes to enjoy the gallons of snow dumped over our beautiful state, while others of you may have chosen a more comfortable alternative and stayed inside, forgoing the bitter cold by reading a nice book under bundles of blankets, or sipping hot cider by a warm fire.
As for myself, I was in California, so I didn't experience the winter blizzards, but I enjoyed my fair share of precipitation. With torrents of rain pouring over my house, I decided to stay inside, and to keep from succumbing to cabin fever, I played video games. Okay, maybe they aren't your traditional video games, I was never any good at games that required extraordinary thumbs and extensive digit muscle memory, but I am good at Guitar Hero World Tour, and Wii games are never too far out of my reach. However, after touring the world for several days, and rising to stardom in the comfort of my living room, I ultimately returned to the typical musings of my mind, which of course are always revolving around my column, and the fascinating world of dating.
Last semester dating was a little rocky and a little bit dull as well, it was up and down and never where I wanted it to be, and I certainly had no do-overs and it was never something I had significant control over. So over the three weeks of nothingness, I had a lot of time to ponder, and with video games invading my days, I began to wish that dating were like a video game.If dating were a video game, I am convinced we would all be a lot happier.
For starters, you get to play by levels, slowly working yourself up from level one garden gnome, and don't have to worry about starting and failing at level 72 warlock. I have found that one of the reasons a relationship fails, is that people are often on different levels. If dating were a video game you would have the option to choose the level, you could stay there for as long as you wanted, and when you were prepared, then you could move from Guitar Hero level easy to medium, and then from hard to expert at your own pace, and most important when you were ready.
Next, if dating were a video game you would have a pause button. When mommy is calling you down for dinner, or when you need to go outside for a minute of fresh air to jump on your trampoline or play jump rope with Skipper, you could simply push the pause button. There are times in my relationships I wish I could push a pause button. Step back from the situation, give myself a break, and think about what I really wanted, or where I wanted things to go. I know some of my dating failures were due to the fact that I needed a break, not that I didn't like the person, but that I simply needed to step away from the situation for a week or two. Breaks are not allowed in the real world. Life moves on and no matter what you do or how hard you try, there is no pause, and if you force a pause, life moves on without you, which can be even worse.
Third, if dating were a video game you would get extra lives. Your girlfriend would forgive you for that awful fight you had the other day, your boyfriend would understand when you crash his car, you would get a second chance to impress the parents or the friends, and you would get that second chance on that first date where you were so nervous you threw up in your date's lap. It would be like Groundhog Day, just start the date over with new knowledge and the confidence to make it better than the last. You could just keep trying until it worked out.
Which brings me to our next point. If dating were a video game, ending things would be easy. When things got boring or hard or were just not our type of game, we could simply select the end button. It would be easy, it would be clean, and there would be no hard feelings. There would be no reason to explain ourselves or to have the awkward "it's not you it's me" conversation, you would simply move on and so would they.
Lastly, if our dating lives were going to be like video games we would all have super cool moves and powers. We would be able to handle any dating situation that came our way, or at least impress our dates with our nunchucks, mad guitar super stardom, and our other skills, because everyone knows, as Napoleon Dynamite put it, "Chicks dig guys with skills."
Yes, if dating were like a video game I dare say it would be a lot easier for all of us to handle, maybe even more fun for those of us who have had several hits in a row. Even when you fail at a video game you still had a fun time, and it is easier to remember the time we made it to level 72 and failed with fondness, instead of the bitterness that too often consumes us after the break-up of a long and meaningful relationship.
But while this analogy sounds nice, it is still only one of those many "what ifs" that we as humans conjure up. While dating would be nice as a video game, it would also be a lot less exciting, and a lot more predictable. I am sure many of us would be sharing cheats and tips to help us all get to level 72 with ease and in a breeze, but we would miss the adventure along the way. It is the pitfalls that add the contrast to our triumph, and without the bruises and bumps we would never appreciate when things go well.
Dating isn't a video game, and life isn't easy. We can't just enter a code and have everything be okay, but it is better that way, and more meaningful. It is my New Year's resolution to appreciate every tiny aspect of dating, savor every bumpy part of the road, and realize that it isn't so bad as I make it out to be, oh and I have also resolved to play Expert on Guitar Hero, but that's for another day.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Silent
I know I cannot write about Gay Marriage
My religious views condemn me doing so
For it's taboo to feel the way I do now
So I'll just shut my mouth about the vote
Everyone's behind the proposition
Everyone it seems except for me
They say that being gay is plain immoral
But I believe it happens naturally
For why would someone choose to be an outcast?
disowned, reviled, by family, kin and friends?
And if they didn't choose this different lifestyle
Then how can we in "rightness" condemn them?
I was taught to help and love my brother
But now you say that this exceptions fine
I'm so confused in everything I stand for
the contradictions cutting through my mind
My mother said the Devil is within me
that he's persuading me to feel this way
I hid my tears and fled the room she stood in
and cried beneath my bed for half a day
I still believe that families are forever
And that everyone can gain eternity
But if families are so central to this purpose
Then why would God confuse sexuality?
It seems unfair to tell these "lost" church fellows
That because of their "confused" identity
They'll be denied what I as someone "normal"
Can have and gain in all morality
I thought by staying quiet I'd avoid this
the pressure to conform with all my peers
In picketing on California corners
with Yellow signs that promote honks and cheers
And as my friends all gather at this crossroads
to band together, fight this moral war
I resign an outside apathetic nature
while secretly desiring to do more
Cause, in a world so thickly lined with malice
How could any love be bad at all?
There's a fine line between whats right and moral
And it is not our right to make the call
Ode: The Rain
I know I cannot write about Gay Marriage
My religious views condemn me doing so
For it's taboo to feel the way I do now
So I'll just shut my mouth about the vote
Everyone's behind the proposition
Everyone it seems except for me
They say that being gay is plain immoral
But I believe it happens naturally
For why would someone choose to be an outcast?
disowned, reviled, by family, kin and friends?
And if they didn't choose this different lifestyle
Then how can we in "rightness" condemn them?
I was taught to help and love my brother
But now you say that this exceptions fine
I'm so confused in everything I stand for
the contradictions cutting through my mind
My mother said the Devil is within me
that he's persuading me to feel this way
I hid my tears and fled the room she stood in
and cried beneath my bed for half a day
I still believe that families are forever
And that everyone can gain eternity
But if families are so central to this purpose
Then why would God confuse sexuality?
It seems unfair to tell these "lost" church fellows
That because of their "confused" identity
They'll be denied what I as someone "normal"
Can have and gain in all morality
I thought by staying quiet I'd avoid this
the pressure to conform with all my peers
In picketing on California corners
with Yellow signs that promote honks and cheers
And as my friends all gather at this crossroads
to band together, fight this moral war
I resign an outside apathetic nature
while secretly desiring to do more
Cause, in a world so thickly lined with malice
How could any love be bad at all?
There's a fine line between whats right and moral
And it is not our right to make the call
Ode: The Rain
Nothing can quite reflect so accurately
my secret emotions like the rain.
The clouds bottle up their insides
and only release when the weight is too much to contain
The clouds bottle up their insides
and only release when the weight is too much to contain
they have to burst. Down the wet beads
purse against my window, leaving iridescent trails
that intertwine and combine and finally dissolve-
until tiny, minute streaks stain the once spotless pane.
I stare at the descending dew drops,
the steam as it rises from the stony ground,
and the clouds, as they gather together
for their marshmallic convention
My weatherman and my 'til death do I part' lied to me
forecasting spotless sensual skies ahead for
season after season. He smiled at me
stroking my sun streaked hair, and I knew he'd
be gone by morning
I prayed for the precipitation today
for this kindred spirit of vertical condensation
and as the tears pour down my crab apple cheeks
I am comforted by the empathetic weather
I reach for the fluffy white tissues
sitting in their too perky for today yellow box
while salty tears burn crimson trails,
Leaving an emotional war zone on my face
Mascara smudges splattered around my eyes
Resembling a terribly depressing Polluck painting
And snotty residue dries on my upper lip
As I grab the brass door knob and step outside
until tiny, minute streaks stain the once spotless pane.
I stare at the descending dew drops,
the steam as it rises from the stony ground,
and the clouds, as they gather together
for their marshmallic convention
My weatherman and my 'til death do I part' lied to me
forecasting spotless sensual skies ahead for
season after season. He smiled at me
stroking my sun streaked hair, and I knew he'd
be gone by morning
I prayed for the precipitation today
for this kindred spirit of vertical condensation
and as the tears pour down my crab apple cheeks
I am comforted by the empathetic weather
I reach for the fluffy white tissues
sitting in their too perky for today yellow box
while salty tears burn crimson trails,
Leaving an emotional war zone on my face
Mascara smudges splattered around my eyes
Resembling a terribly depressing Polluck painting
And snotty residue dries on my upper lip
As I grab the brass door knob and step outside
Irony of Optimistic Satire
My Dearest Mandy,
Last night, during our weekly bubble bath ritual
We sat tightly together
Clad in summer swimming suits
While we vented and ranted, spit and spat
About the current crap consuming our lives.
We concluded, that this semester could only get better.
What could top demanding professors,
Tedious jobs, 16 hour work days, supernatural weight gain,
monstrous moms, drug-using brothers, clueless co-workers who
use and abuse our skills and greedily keep over
95% of the nights tips because they are servers
and you my dear are a mere busser,
Vegas editing system, 3 a.m. lab nights,
Losing friends, over accentuated self revelations and regrets,
flaky boyfriends who conveniently covet other chicas,
claustraphobia inducing wanna-be-boyfriends,
The obnoxious and oblivious male race, budget cuts,
Slashed mashed and dashed dreams, and not
Getting asked to country dance when we spend five hours
Six minutes and twenty seven seconds primping
And scrimping and proving that we are hot sexy
Mamas?
What maniacal, awful, sadistic cosmic force
Decided that we sucked so much that we needed
To have our eyes, thighs, elbows, ear lobes, pelvis, and ankles,
Thrown into the swirling vortex
Of fire and brimstone-
Like pseudo gladiators, fed to the lions piece by piece
As the crowd cheers on, begging for the monotonous torture to continue.
Yes, last night we decided that there was no way,
No PB and J chance that our lives
Could possibly get any worse.
12 hours later you had to go and get hit by a bus.
Hit by a bus, that is the type of excuse you use
When you want to get out of a date
With the guy who lives next door-
You know the one- nose-picking, loafer wearing
Theodore with the bad breath and nasal spasms?
HIT BY A BUS- it sounds ridiculous
I laugh just thinking about it, my best friend nearly killed
By the bahemouth of vehicular transportation.
You walk across the street, ten feet from your house
(You know they do say most accidents happen
Within one mile of your home)
And you get smacked by the shuttle
The stupid campus loop
Turning left, and you fly 10 feet.
Abrasions, contusions, vicadin
All the new words I learned today
All because we had to insist that
There was no possible way
This semester could get any shittier.
With all the love I can muster,
Lindsay
P.S. I am glad that you are O.K.
Last night, during our weekly bubble bath ritual
We sat tightly together
Clad in summer swimming suits
While we vented and ranted, spit and spat
About the current crap consuming our lives.
We concluded, that this semester could only get better.
What could top demanding professors,
Tedious jobs, 16 hour work days, supernatural weight gain,
monstrous moms, drug-using brothers, clueless co-workers who
use and abuse our skills and greedily keep over
95% of the nights tips because they are servers
and you my dear are a mere busser,
Vegas editing system, 3 a.m. lab nights,
Losing friends, over accentuated self revelations and regrets,
flaky boyfriends who conveniently covet other chicas,
claustraphobia inducing wanna-be-boyfriends,
The obnoxious and oblivious male race, budget cuts,
Slashed mashed and dashed dreams, and not
Getting asked to country dance when we spend five hours
Six minutes and twenty seven seconds primping
And scrimping and proving that we are hot sexy
Mamas?
What maniacal, awful, sadistic cosmic force
Decided that we sucked so much that we needed
To have our eyes, thighs, elbows, ear lobes, pelvis, and ankles,
Thrown into the swirling vortex
Of fire and brimstone-
Like pseudo gladiators, fed to the lions piece by piece
As the crowd cheers on, begging for the monotonous torture to continue.
Yes, last night we decided that there was no way,
No PB and J chance that our lives
Could possibly get any worse.
12 hours later you had to go and get hit by a bus.
Hit by a bus, that is the type of excuse you use
When you want to get out of a date
With the guy who lives next door-
You know the one- nose-picking, loafer wearing
Theodore with the bad breath and nasal spasms?
HIT BY A BUS- it sounds ridiculous
I laugh just thinking about it, my best friend nearly killed
By the bahemouth of vehicular transportation.
You walk across the street, ten feet from your house
(You know they do say most accidents happen
Within one mile of your home)
And you get smacked by the shuttle
The stupid campus loop
Turning left, and you fly 10 feet.
Abrasions, contusions, vicadin
All the new words I learned today
All because we had to insist that
There was no possible way
This semester could get any shittier.
With all the love I can muster,
Lindsay
P.S. I am glad that you are O.K.
A Strangers Apathy
(An Elegy Poem)
-
The water's been running for hours.
Steam engulfs the hollow room
And a deep fog settles in
Penetrating all sight.
I blindly grope for the nearest wall
Tripping over a hairbrush.
Reaching the counter instead
I grasp the welcoming edges
of the cool ivory,
fighting to maintain consciousness.
This vicious virus of violent thought
has slowly eaten away at me,
spreading maliciously from stem to bow
like mold on the banana sandwiches of
yesterday.
My last ounce of will evaporates,
And I succumb to the pain-
To the horror of the last year-
from losing my family for loving him
to losing him to mother earth.
I embrace the metamorphosis –
the "It" I have become.
I do not wish to fade away,
But I cannot weep any longer.
I take one last look in the mirror,
realize the reflection is unrecognizable,
and resign, waving the white flag,
signaling defeat.
My shoulders collapse.
Losing identity I shudder.
Silently, the glue dissolves, I shatter.
The ground welcomes
the stranger -
the “It" I have become.
Reaching the waters edge,
“It” slips into a decrepit insanity.
Decaying, “It” lets the water consume my body whole.
Opposing Seasons
I wear my Gauntlet, as Webster puts it
"a dress glove extending above the wrist"
(An Elegy Poem)
-
The water's been running for hours.
Steam engulfs the hollow room
And a deep fog settles in
Penetrating all sight.
I blindly grope for the nearest wall
Tripping over a hairbrush.
Reaching the counter instead
I grasp the welcoming edges
of the cool ivory,
fighting to maintain consciousness.
This vicious virus of violent thought
has slowly eaten away at me,
spreading maliciously from stem to bow
like mold on the banana sandwiches of
yesterday.
My last ounce of will evaporates,
And I succumb to the pain-
To the horror of the last year-
from losing my family for loving him
to losing him to mother earth.
I embrace the metamorphosis –
the "It" I have become.
I do not wish to fade away,
But I cannot weep any longer.
I take one last look in the mirror,
realize the reflection is unrecognizable,
and resign, waving the white flag,
signaling defeat.
My shoulders collapse.
Losing identity I shudder.
Silently, the glue dissolves, I shatter.
The ground welcomes
the stranger -
the “It" I have become.
Reaching the waters edge,
“It” slips into a decrepit insanity.
Decaying, “It” lets the water consume my body whole.
Opposing Seasons
I wear my Gauntlet, as Webster puts it
"a dress glove extending above the wrist"
Mauve, fuzzy, and fingerless
Wool and woven in a swirling pattern
Gloves to cover the wrist and forget the digits
Functional for movement,
But useless in preserving warmth
A ladybug lands in my itchy palm
And nestles for warmth in the crotched crevices
That a hasty knitter overlooked.
The insect is a Cache Valley surprise,
An oddity in the thirty degree weather.
The ladybug invades my Gauntlet, which Webster also defines as
"a glove worn with medieval armor to protect the hand"
I remembered something about you then
This unexpected figure in my life
Born of springtime, rare and magnificent,
Trying to force yourself into the holes of my history
Into the icy depths of my wintertime soul.
Your presence is encroaching
Ladybugs are not meant to survive
in this frigid atmosphere,
and I refuse to let your springtime love,
into my glacial heart.
You issue the Gauntlet, defined by Webster as
an open challenge (as to combat)
You, my wishful lover, are
Hopeful that with your round red cap
And sunny spirit, you can somehow change me
That you can mend my amaranthine fray-ments,
And fix the holes I’ve overlooked.
Wool and woven in a swirling pattern
Gloves to cover the wrist and forget the digits
Functional for movement,
But useless in preserving warmth
A ladybug lands in my itchy palm
And nestles for warmth in the crotched crevices
That a hasty knitter overlooked.
The insect is a Cache Valley surprise,
An oddity in the thirty degree weather.
The ladybug invades my Gauntlet, which Webster also defines as
"a glove worn with medieval armor to protect the hand"
I remembered something about you then
This unexpected figure in my life
Born of springtime, rare and magnificent,
Trying to force yourself into the holes of my history
Into the icy depths of my wintertime soul.
Your presence is encroaching
Ladybugs are not meant to survive
in this frigid atmosphere,
and I refuse to let your springtime love,
into my glacial heart.
You issue the Gauntlet, defined by Webster as
an open challenge (as to combat)
You, my wishful lover, are
Hopeful that with your round red cap
And sunny spirit, you can somehow change me
That you can mend my amaranthine fray-ments,
And fix the holes I’ve overlooked.
ORIGINALS
A Strangers Apathy
(An Elegy Poem)
-
The water's been running
Steam engulfs the room
A deep fog settles in
Penetrating sight
I grope for the wall
Tripping over a hairbrush
Reaching the counter
I grasp the edges
of the cool ivory
A scream
A swiping motion
Desperate to reveal my reflection
on the damp glass
Swipe after swipe
there is no progress
My image is lost
Dam the water!
Make it stop
let a cool breeze in
Clear this fog,
let vision reinsue.
Please, I beg you.
Do not cause me to weep longer-
My tears have clouded
everything I've known.
No one answers.
My shoulders collapse
I am defeated
I can no longer see myself
hopelessness is by far
the very worst
purgatory. losing identity.
I shudder.
Silently, the glue dissolves,
I shatter.
The ground welcomes
the stranger- the It- I've become.
What was left, if anything, has vanished.
Reaching the waters edge,
It slips into a decrepit insanity.
Decaying, It lets the water consume my body whole.
Marias Comments: Make it more clear what is happening, is this a metaphorical loss of identity, or an actual suicide? Add more specifics, create the scene more. Describe why this is happening. Like the hairbrush reference.
Marias Comments: Make it more clear what is happening, is this a metaphorical loss of identity, or an actual suicide? Add more specifics, create the scene more. Describe why this is happening. Like the hairbrush reference.
Ode: The Rain: Thinking out loud about the water cycle--cool! I especially liked the phrase "unexpected baptism." I wonder if you could hint more overtly at what the rain, and its potential, might mean, metaphorically, to your life right now? I good model for this mixing of internal/external re: weather is Shelley's "Ode to the West Wind," probably available online with a quick Google.
Ode: The Rain
Nothing can quite reflect so accuratly
my secret emotions like the rain.
The clouds bottle up their insides
and only let go when there is too much to contain
they have to burst. Down the wet beads
purse against my window leaving irradescent trails
that intertwine and combine and finally dissolve-
until tiny, minute streaks stain the once spotless pane.
Umbrellas are not trendy, and I tend to go without
their protection, because no harm can come from
this unexpected baptism, this opportunity
to wash away the dirt and try a new start.
I revel in the moisture, as it seeps onto my shirt
Creating damp poka dots that spread into
colorful puddles, which eventally fade, the longer
I stand and let myself become drenched.
One soaking disaster, I trudge through the puddles-
the glorious meeting spot of all the droplets,
as they rejoin with kin after the long journey
of falling through space and time and the vast
expanse of sky. I wonder if they miss before
the fall, when everything changed.
Do they like their transformation?
Did they enjoy the trip?
Or can they simply not contain themselves,
praying for the sun to come out-
to start the evaporation cycle
so they can return home to the big grey
clouds, that wrap them in billowy folds,
that hug them tightly and encase them
in white love that never lies-
Until the clouds open their eyes
and let their tears fall, as I cry too
wrapped in my fluffy white comforter,
pleading to be held and understood
by the clouds, to be carried up
into the heavens, with the empathetic rain drops.
To rest, from the secret plagues
and the rage, and the discontent
of being left here when the rain evaporates again.
Nothing can quite reflect so accuratly
my secret emotions like the rain.
The clouds bottle up their insides
and only let go when there is too much to contain
they have to burst. Down the wet beads
purse against my window leaving irradescent trails
that intertwine and combine and finally dissolve-
until tiny, minute streaks stain the once spotless pane.
Umbrellas are not trendy, and I tend to go without
their protection, because no harm can come from
this unexpected baptism, this opportunity
to wash away the dirt and try a new start.
I revel in the moisture, as it seeps onto my shirt
Creating damp poka dots that spread into
colorful puddles, which eventally fade, the longer
I stand and let myself become drenched.
One soaking disaster, I trudge through the puddles-
the glorious meeting spot of all the droplets,
as they rejoin with kin after the long journey
of falling through space and time and the vast
expanse of sky. I wonder if they miss before
the fall, when everything changed.
Do they like their transformation?
Did they enjoy the trip?
Or can they simply not contain themselves,
praying for the sun to come out-
to start the evaporation cycle
so they can return home to the big grey
clouds, that wrap them in billowy folds,
that hug them tightly and encase them
in white love that never lies-
Until the clouds open their eyes
and let their tears fall, as I cry too
wrapped in my fluffy white comforter,
pleading to be held and understood
by the clouds, to be carried up
into the heavens, with the empathetic rain drops.
To rest, from the secret plagues
and the rage, and the discontent
of being left here when the rain evaporates again.
Silent: Good job using blank verse! Your metrical and stanzaic awareness really holds the poem together, aesthetically. Your rhyme scheme might make the language too forced when you write, "I shut the world out, bottle up my mind"--that line trips me up, since the whole poem seems to be about an opening of the speaker's (your) mind. I like the sense, overall, that the poem is an example of thinking out loud, weighing counter-arguments and making tentative evaluations.
Silent
I know I cannot write about Gay Marriage
My religious views condemn me doing so
For it's taboo to feel the way I do now
So I'll just shut my mouth about the vote
Everyone's behind the proposition
Everyone it seems except for me
They say this it is simply too immoral
But I believe it happens naturally
For why would someone choose to be an outcast?
disowned, reviled, by family, kin and friends?
And if they didn't choose this different lifestyle
Then how can we in "rightness" condemn them?
I was taught to help and love my brother
But now you say that this exceptions fine
I'm so confused in everything I stand for
I shut the world out, bottle up my mind
I still believe that families are forever
And that everyone can gain eternity
But if families are so central to this purpose
Then why would God confuse sexuality?
It seems unfair to tell these "lost" church fellows
That because of their "confused" identity
They'll be denied what I as someone "normal"
Can have and gain in all morality
Everyone deserves some love in this world
It seems too hard to go at it alone
And if you're made to love a same sex person
I still don't see why that is so so wrong
In a world so thickly lined with hate and malice
How could any love be bad at all?
But my church seems to see it very different
And my opinions strictly frowned upon
And people tell me I'm a bad church member
Because I won't go canvas for the cause
But I don't understand in any season
Why a kind God would make people gay at all
I know all trials are not created equal
But banning love just seems to go too far
I cannot see how everyones so gung-ho
Behind this newest ban gay marriage law
I know I cannot write about Gay Marriage
My religious views condemn me doing so
For it's taboo to feel the way I do now
So I'll just shut my mouth about the vote
Everyone's behind the proposition
Everyone it seems except for me
They say this it is simply too immoral
But I believe it happens naturally
For why would someone choose to be an outcast?
disowned, reviled, by family, kin and friends?
And if they didn't choose this different lifestyle
Then how can we in "rightness" condemn them?
I was taught to help and love my brother
But now you say that this exceptions fine
I'm so confused in everything I stand for
I shut the world out, bottle up my mind
I still believe that families are forever
And that everyone can gain eternity
But if families are so central to this purpose
Then why would God confuse sexuality?
It seems unfair to tell these "lost" church fellows
That because of their "confused" identity
They'll be denied what I as someone "normal"
Can have and gain in all morality
Everyone deserves some love in this world
It seems too hard to go at it alone
And if you're made to love a same sex person
I still don't see why that is so so wrong
In a world so thickly lined with hate and malice
How could any love be bad at all?
But my church seems to see it very different
And my opinions strictly frowned upon
And people tell me I'm a bad church member
Because I won't go canvas for the cause
But I don't understand in any season
Why a kind God would make people gay at all
I know all trials are not created equal
But banning love just seems to go too far
I cannot see how everyones so gung-ho
Behind this newest ban gay marriage law
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
COLUMN: Complexity in dating
Published: Monday, October 6, 2008
A few weeks back you will recall my article “Being single is no walk in the park.” Since that time, I can only think of one thing that is worse, and that would be dating.
Dating is one of the most torturous events anyone can go through. I am not talking about those stable happy relationships, but rather actual dating, the no commitment, getting-to-know-you phase.
First you see someone, and you think they are attractive, but you can’t just go up to them and tell them that, because then you would be classified as a creep. See, our society does not value honesty in this circumstance.
Rather, it is socially acceptable to pretend you don’t even care for the other person that way. You have to play the game, and you have to do it well. To play the game you need to play it cool. There is no just walking up to the person and asking them out. You need to accidentally bump into the person, or have a friend introduce you. That way you gain credibility.
Why? Why do we no longer value honesty, why can’t you just walk up to someone and tell them what’s on your mind? We all find people attractive, we all like other people, why is it so unacceptable to tell a person that you think they are beautiful or amazing? Shouldn’t a person be flattered by these comments instead of creeped out? Apparently not. So right from the beginning everyone is nervous about being classified as a creep.
The next step, if you are introduced in the acceptable manner, is to figure out how to get to know the person better. You could attempt to get their number, but what if they reject you? That would just be plain awkward.
It has been my experience that the best way is to figure out through a little investigation how you can “bump” into each other again. Perhaps a little Facebook stalking? Don’t tell me you have never done it. Facebook is the new, and almost preferred, dating medium, and there is no harm in adding your new interest as a friend.
Pardon the reiteration, but why? Why are we so communication retarded? When did we as a generation lose interest in communication skills? People break up over text and e-mail all the time. I have been asked out on more than one first date by an e-mail, and let me tell you, those first dates went absolutely nowhere. Why are we more comfortable with writing each other a message than talking to a person? I personally think it is plain silly and issue all of you a challenge. Try using a phone sometime. It is not that horrible.
OK, moving on. You’ve done the initial second pseudo interaction. Now what? An actual interaction. How do you get to see them again? At this point I am reaching either apathy toward the whole situation, or am feeling a little bit discouraged. I begin thinking, “There is no way this guy would ever be interested in me. He probably has a girlfriend. There is no way we would ever get along. He is going to think I am crazy. I am probably going to hate his personality. I bet he is gay, etc. etc. etc.”
The whole dating task seems nearly impossible at the beginning, and it is so much easier at this point just to give up than exert the energy to move forward, but like good little boys and girls we are all ambitious and thirsty for the next step, and most of the time we pursue it.
Now you have to lay your pride on the line. This step I have heard from most of my guy friends is the hardest, the actual date asking. Will she say yes, and if she does, is she just being nice?
We really work dating up to be such a big deal, when, c’mon, it does not to be the end all of everything. If the person says no, so what? Are you going to go home and cry? Maybe, but honestly, this is not going to destroy the rest of your life.
Also, for the people who get asked, just because a person is asking you on a date does not mean they want to marry you. Dating, yes, can lead to marriage (that sounds like an surgeon generals cigarette warning, “smoking cigarettes may lead to cancer”), but it doesn’t always, especially at the beginning.
Yet, despite all of these rationalizations, it always ends up being a big deal. We get nervous at this point, with sweaty palms and dry lips we walk up to that person and hope with all our might that something will work, and when it does, you embark on the first date, the start of your journey toward the ever coveted “relationship.”
If you continue dating, there are pit-stops on the way to an actual relationship. The always awkward first hand hold or first kiss. The first kiss cracks me up, and I never do it well. I always give nervous giggles in between kisses, thinking to myself, “I have no freaking clue what I am doing.” Why didn’t anyone ever think to teach a class on kissing?
I have been kissing for years, and every first kiss I think that same thing, and I doubt I will ever really know what I am doing. Getting back to the subject, though, initiating these physical manifestations of love are very difficult, and if not overcome with a minimum amount of grace, can doom any potential relationship. I do not need to emphasize again how scary dating is, you all already know that, but this particular event is one of the hardest. I once dated a boy who it took eight months to initiate the hand-holding stage, it took him nine to ask me to be his girlfriend, and I can tell you, he was scared.
Finally, if you get there, you have a “DTR” or “define the relationship” talk. In my last relationship I had to initiate it, because he just wasn’t going to go there. I was terrified. We had been dating for a few weeks, and we had never discussed anything remotely close to what we were and where we were going. I was way confused on top of already being a confusing person – not a good combination. To be honest, my brain was a pile of mush. I turned to my girlfriends for advice and support, and they told me it was obvious he liked me, I should just ask him what he thought of us. I finally did, but it was really hard, and even after the talk I was left confused about what we were.
Here is the point: why does something that is supposed to be wonderful intimidate us all? Why have we all made it so hard for one another? What group of people got together and decided to write our societal norms? If I ever find out what committee was in charge of the dating segment of norms, I am going to write them a very nasty letter. I swear they must have sat around some prestigious table laughing their heads off writing the dating constitution and any of its amendments.
Regardless of how they came about, however, I guess I still don’t understand why dating in its entirety has to be so complicated. Yet, dating is what it is, and I don’t think it is going to change anytime soon, no matter how many columns I write.
Dating is messy. It can hurt like heck. I know this one all too well. Even after you think things are stable and that the other person truly does care for you, the rug can still be pulled out from under you.
We all take the risk, and we all will, at some point, get hurt. Dating sucks – there is no doubt about it – but we still do it. I have fresh wounds from my latest dating endeavor, and getting back on the horse seems more bleak than ever, and yet I can’t wait to do it again.
Is the human race compiled entirely of sadistic individuals? Perhaps, but there is a high that comes from dating, from finding someone to share everything with, that you can’t find anywhere else, and while most of the time it seems we fall flat on our butt, there are occasions when things work and they are wonderful.
When you finally find the person who gets you, and who wants to spend all the time in the world with you, all of the bumps and bruises will be worth it (or at least that is what I hear).
I haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing that just yet, but I maintain hope that it does work like that at some point. I can’t wait until I can cash in all of these scars for someone who happens to like the mangled emotional carcass I have become because of my awful dating past.
Maybe I will even find someone who can heal me completely. In the meantime all I can do is hope, and keep playing this awful game of dating that truly, truly, truly sucks.
A few weeks back you will recall my article “Being single is no walk in the park.” Since that time, I can only think of one thing that is worse, and that would be dating.
Dating is one of the most torturous events anyone can go through. I am not talking about those stable happy relationships, but rather actual dating, the no commitment, getting-to-know-you phase.
First you see someone, and you think they are attractive, but you can’t just go up to them and tell them that, because then you would be classified as a creep. See, our society does not value honesty in this circumstance.
Rather, it is socially acceptable to pretend you don’t even care for the other person that way. You have to play the game, and you have to do it well. To play the game you need to play it cool. There is no just walking up to the person and asking them out. You need to accidentally bump into the person, or have a friend introduce you. That way you gain credibility.
Why? Why do we no longer value honesty, why can’t you just walk up to someone and tell them what’s on your mind? We all find people attractive, we all like other people, why is it so unacceptable to tell a person that you think they are beautiful or amazing? Shouldn’t a person be flattered by these comments instead of creeped out? Apparently not. So right from the beginning everyone is nervous about being classified as a creep.
The next step, if you are introduced in the acceptable manner, is to figure out how to get to know the person better. You could attempt to get their number, but what if they reject you? That would just be plain awkward.
It has been my experience that the best way is to figure out through a little investigation how you can “bump” into each other again. Perhaps a little Facebook stalking? Don’t tell me you have never done it. Facebook is the new, and almost preferred, dating medium, and there is no harm in adding your new interest as a friend.
Pardon the reiteration, but why? Why are we so communication retarded? When did we as a generation lose interest in communication skills? People break up over text and e-mail all the time. I have been asked out on more than one first date by an e-mail, and let me tell you, those first dates went absolutely nowhere. Why are we more comfortable with writing each other a message than talking to a person? I personally think it is plain silly and issue all of you a challenge. Try using a phone sometime. It is not that horrible.
OK, moving on. You’ve done the initial second pseudo interaction. Now what? An actual interaction. How do you get to see them again? At this point I am reaching either apathy toward the whole situation, or am feeling a little bit discouraged. I begin thinking, “There is no way this guy would ever be interested in me. He probably has a girlfriend. There is no way we would ever get along. He is going to think I am crazy. I am probably going to hate his personality. I bet he is gay, etc. etc. etc.”
The whole dating task seems nearly impossible at the beginning, and it is so much easier at this point just to give up than exert the energy to move forward, but like good little boys and girls we are all ambitious and thirsty for the next step, and most of the time we pursue it.
Now you have to lay your pride on the line. This step I have heard from most of my guy friends is the hardest, the actual date asking. Will she say yes, and if she does, is she just being nice?
We really work dating up to be such a big deal, when, c’mon, it does not to be the end all of everything. If the person says no, so what? Are you going to go home and cry? Maybe, but honestly, this is not going to destroy the rest of your life.
Also, for the people who get asked, just because a person is asking you on a date does not mean they want to marry you. Dating, yes, can lead to marriage (that sounds like an surgeon generals cigarette warning, “smoking cigarettes may lead to cancer”), but it doesn’t always, especially at the beginning.
Yet, despite all of these rationalizations, it always ends up being a big deal. We get nervous at this point, with sweaty palms and dry lips we walk up to that person and hope with all our might that something will work, and when it does, you embark on the first date, the start of your journey toward the ever coveted “relationship.”
If you continue dating, there are pit-stops on the way to an actual relationship. The always awkward first hand hold or first kiss. The first kiss cracks me up, and I never do it well. I always give nervous giggles in between kisses, thinking to myself, “I have no freaking clue what I am doing.” Why didn’t anyone ever think to teach a class on kissing?
I have been kissing for years, and every first kiss I think that same thing, and I doubt I will ever really know what I am doing. Getting back to the subject, though, initiating these physical manifestations of love are very difficult, and if not overcome with a minimum amount of grace, can doom any potential relationship. I do not need to emphasize again how scary dating is, you all already know that, but this particular event is one of the hardest. I once dated a boy who it took eight months to initiate the hand-holding stage, it took him nine to ask me to be his girlfriend, and I can tell you, he was scared.
Finally, if you get there, you have a “DTR” or “define the relationship” talk. In my last relationship I had to initiate it, because he just wasn’t going to go there. I was terrified. We had been dating for a few weeks, and we had never discussed anything remotely close to what we were and where we were going. I was way confused on top of already being a confusing person – not a good combination. To be honest, my brain was a pile of mush. I turned to my girlfriends for advice and support, and they told me it was obvious he liked me, I should just ask him what he thought of us. I finally did, but it was really hard, and even after the talk I was left confused about what we were.
Here is the point: why does something that is supposed to be wonderful intimidate us all? Why have we all made it so hard for one another? What group of people got together and decided to write our societal norms? If I ever find out what committee was in charge of the dating segment of norms, I am going to write them a very nasty letter. I swear they must have sat around some prestigious table laughing their heads off writing the dating constitution and any of its amendments.
Regardless of how they came about, however, I guess I still don’t understand why dating in its entirety has to be so complicated. Yet, dating is what it is, and I don’t think it is going to change anytime soon, no matter how many columns I write.
Dating is messy. It can hurt like heck. I know this one all too well. Even after you think things are stable and that the other person truly does care for you, the rug can still be pulled out from under you.
We all take the risk, and we all will, at some point, get hurt. Dating sucks – there is no doubt about it – but we still do it. I have fresh wounds from my latest dating endeavor, and getting back on the horse seems more bleak than ever, and yet I can’t wait to do it again.
Is the human race compiled entirely of sadistic individuals? Perhaps, but there is a high that comes from dating, from finding someone to share everything with, that you can’t find anywhere else, and while most of the time it seems we fall flat on our butt, there are occasions when things work and they are wonderful.
When you finally find the person who gets you, and who wants to spend all the time in the world with you, all of the bumps and bruises will be worth it (or at least that is what I hear).
I haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing that just yet, but I maintain hope that it does work like that at some point. I can’t wait until I can cash in all of these scars for someone who happens to like the mangled emotional carcass I have become because of my awful dating past.
Maybe I will even find someone who can heal me completely. In the meantime all I can do is hope, and keep playing this awful game of dating that truly, truly, truly sucks.
COLUMN: Easy to strike out in dating when blind-folded
Published: Monday, November 3, 2008
So I finally decided to talk about it. “They” say that talking helps you move on. Who are “they” anyway? Teachers, the government, health experts, Greeks? The world may never know, but that is beside the point. Regardless of who said what, I am going to try this standard piece of advice and let these awful memories out.
Every time one of these particular dating opportunities arises, I think to myself, “OK, Loo, just give it a shot. Maybe this one will be different, maybe this one won’t be a 30 year old, a twangy air-headed cowboy or an ambition-less, minimum-wage earning young man.
Every time this happens I try to look on the bright side, maybe normal people get set up on blind dates too, it happens, right? I mean look at me, I have been on plenty of blind dates and I am completely normal ...”
OK, look, stop laughing. Maybe I am not completely normal – I do write a very honest dating column in The Utah Statesman – but doesn’t that make me extraordinary? Shouldn’t I be blind dating other extraordinary people?
I guess that all depends on your definition of extraordinary and the people who set you up on the dates definition of that particular adjective.
Well, in my case, whoever sets up the date always seem to define this word wrong, and just to clarify, I did set myself up on one of these dates in a way. In my life, I really can be my own worst enemy.
But, in defense of my awful decision to set myself up, I think we all have this optimistic Hollywood-esque perspective on blind dating. I think we all want to live the “You’ve Got Mail,” scenario where Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan set themselves up over the Internet on a blind date and it just happens to work out magically. I must suppose that I have a Meg Ryan aura about me, because I did this same stupid thing.
For my last column I got hundreds and hundreds – number may be slightly exaggerated – of fan e-mails and five or six date invitations, even though I specifically said in the dating sucks article last month, that asking people out over e-mail is bad.
For most of these date invites, I politely skirted around the topic of a date, but one in particular seemed very sincere and complimentary toward me and really, really wanted to take me out. I couldn’t resist the idea of someone being so madly in love with me after only reading my article and had to find out if it was possible that this person could be a James McAvoy and not a Michael Scott. What was the worst thing that could happen? The date could go badly, I could have one of the worst nights of my life, I could gain yet another stalker to my all too scary and full list or he could try to murder me on our date.
On the flip side, what were the very slim chances that maybe he could be my knight in shining armor? The odds were too good. I just had to take this chance and say yes.
I know, I know, what in the world was I thinking? Who in their right mind – I am obviously in my left – would ever accept such an absurd, crazy proposition? In the world we live in today, where people meet 50-year-old psychopaths off of MySpace, how could I have ever accepted?
Well I did, and the rest is history. I am still alive and you all have the intense pleasure of hearing about my awful experience on your dreary, school-filled Monday morning.
It should be noted that I have censored this date and have not included names or too many details that would link it back to the person I dated. This is also the Reader’s Digest version of my date and is severely watered down in content. Pieces of the date have even been entirely left out, but that is what you get when you are writing on a word limit. The entire account of this date could easily fill an entire spread of The Utah Statesman.
So, back to the story. My initial reaction to this overly zealous e-mail was to ignore it, but something compelled me to respond. I decided I would play the safe route and opt to meet at the Quadside for a cup of hot chocolate before one of my Friday classes. This way we could meet and I could see if I had hit the jackpot or if I had crapped out, which occurs in most gambles.
Unfortunately, he was unavailable to meet at that time and suggested we go out Saturday evening. Now I was caught. I had already made contact, he was already planning on meeting me, I was stuck and found myself on a bonafide date.
Well, Saturday arrived and I finally met my secret admirer. Without going into too much detail, he was not a James McAvoy. He picked me up at 3 p.m., and we decided to go golfing.
In all honesty, golfing was fun. I love golfing because it is something I can be competitive at and I love competition. I love people who challenge me.
After we went golfing we went to go eat dinner, which is where things started to get ridiculous. For the entire date this kid had been agreeing with me on everything I said. I felt as if my identity were being Xeroxed before my eyes. There was no way that we had everything in common, so, in my slightly ticked-off state, I decided to test him.
When he asked me the next question, “What kind of movies do you like?,” I responded with, “I hate all movies, except for chick flicks. I won’t watch anything else.” Absurd and ridiculous statement, right? What guy in their right mind would agree with that? Well, he replied, “I see where you are coming from.” “No, you don’t.” I wanted to yell across the table.
Next he asked me if I liked sports, I replied, “I think sports are a canker on the academic institution.”
Not only did the question and answer session continue in this ridiculous manner, but I started spouting ridiculous political opinions at him, trying to exaggerate to the very left side, my liberal wing ideologies. This didn’t seem to bother him either, he too, coincidentally, agreed with all of my socialistic policies and ideals.
After dinner and a brief, awkward drive up the canyon, he dropped me off at my apartment and drove away. I had been in my room for about 10 seconds when my phone buzzed.
It was a text. How quaint. I slid open my phone to reveal the following message from our uncouth friend, “So, how do you think that went?”
I am an honest person. I tell it like it is. I spent the next 10 minutes explaining to him, that I had a very fun time, he was very nice and polite, but that I did not have any feelings for him in that manner and would be declining a second date.
He accepted this and I was relieved. The world could go back to normal ... for three days.
Yes, three days after this date, I received the following text message, “So I’ve been thinking, and I decided that I don’t think it was fair that you judged me like that after one date ‘cause really, how can you know if you have feelings for someone after one date? So I think I deserve one more chance because I am a good guy.”
I was blown away. Sending something like that takes nerve. Well, I spent the next hour, yes, hour, explaining to him that it would not be fair for either of us to go on a second date, it would just be a waste of our time, because I knew already that I would never be able to like him in that manner.
He persisted to pester me and when I wouldn’t give in to a second date, began to get angry. He said I was a mean person, that I hold men to impossible standards, and that I will end up sad and lonely in life. I laughed, then replied that he probably shouldn’t text me anymore, in fact I insisted upon it.
So, James McAvoy? I think not, and, this is only one of my awful blind date experiences. I have never had a good blind date, I can’t recall hearing of anyone who has had a good blind date experience and yet I maintain hope each time a new blind date opportunity arises that I will finally get my Meg Ryan moment.
Are we as humans sometimes too naively hopeful? Is it foolish of me to believe that one day I might be able to have a romantic evening that can compete with the best fictional creations Hollywood has to offer?
Despite striking out several times with the blind date method of finding love, I refuse to give up hope that I could meet someone spectacular. Karma owes me big time in this dating category, and I am sure one day the universe will reward me for the vast amount of bad luck I have encountered.
So, yes, in answer to the question on your mind, I will continue to blind date in the future.
I don’t know what my next blind date holds in store for me, but I do know one thing: I would be willing to bet very good money that it will be exponentially better than the one I just had.
So I finally decided to talk about it. “They” say that talking helps you move on. Who are “they” anyway? Teachers, the government, health experts, Greeks? The world may never know, but that is beside the point. Regardless of who said what, I am going to try this standard piece of advice and let these awful memories out.
Every time one of these particular dating opportunities arises, I think to myself, “OK, Loo, just give it a shot. Maybe this one will be different, maybe this one won’t be a 30 year old, a twangy air-headed cowboy or an ambition-less, minimum-wage earning young man.
Every time this happens I try to look on the bright side, maybe normal people get set up on blind dates too, it happens, right? I mean look at me, I have been on plenty of blind dates and I am completely normal ...”
OK, look, stop laughing. Maybe I am not completely normal – I do write a very honest dating column in The Utah Statesman – but doesn’t that make me extraordinary? Shouldn’t I be blind dating other extraordinary people?
I guess that all depends on your definition of extraordinary and the people who set you up on the dates definition of that particular adjective.
Well, in my case, whoever sets up the date always seem to define this word wrong, and just to clarify, I did set myself up on one of these dates in a way. In my life, I really can be my own worst enemy.
But, in defense of my awful decision to set myself up, I think we all have this optimistic Hollywood-esque perspective on blind dating. I think we all want to live the “You’ve Got Mail,” scenario where Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan set themselves up over the Internet on a blind date and it just happens to work out magically. I must suppose that I have a Meg Ryan aura about me, because I did this same stupid thing.
For my last column I got hundreds and hundreds – number may be slightly exaggerated – of fan e-mails and five or six date invitations, even though I specifically said in the dating sucks article last month, that asking people out over e-mail is bad.
For most of these date invites, I politely skirted around the topic of a date, but one in particular seemed very sincere and complimentary toward me and really, really wanted to take me out. I couldn’t resist the idea of someone being so madly in love with me after only reading my article and had to find out if it was possible that this person could be a James McAvoy and not a Michael Scott. What was the worst thing that could happen? The date could go badly, I could have one of the worst nights of my life, I could gain yet another stalker to my all too scary and full list or he could try to murder me on our date.
On the flip side, what were the very slim chances that maybe he could be my knight in shining armor? The odds were too good. I just had to take this chance and say yes.
I know, I know, what in the world was I thinking? Who in their right mind – I am obviously in my left – would ever accept such an absurd, crazy proposition? In the world we live in today, where people meet 50-year-old psychopaths off of MySpace, how could I have ever accepted?
Well I did, and the rest is history. I am still alive and you all have the intense pleasure of hearing about my awful experience on your dreary, school-filled Monday morning.
It should be noted that I have censored this date and have not included names or too many details that would link it back to the person I dated. This is also the Reader’s Digest version of my date and is severely watered down in content. Pieces of the date have even been entirely left out, but that is what you get when you are writing on a word limit. The entire account of this date could easily fill an entire spread of The Utah Statesman.
So, back to the story. My initial reaction to this overly zealous e-mail was to ignore it, but something compelled me to respond. I decided I would play the safe route and opt to meet at the Quadside for a cup of hot chocolate before one of my Friday classes. This way we could meet and I could see if I had hit the jackpot or if I had crapped out, which occurs in most gambles.
Unfortunately, he was unavailable to meet at that time and suggested we go out Saturday evening. Now I was caught. I had already made contact, he was already planning on meeting me, I was stuck and found myself on a bonafide date.
Well, Saturday arrived and I finally met my secret admirer. Without going into too much detail, he was not a James McAvoy. He picked me up at 3 p.m., and we decided to go golfing.
In all honesty, golfing was fun. I love golfing because it is something I can be competitive at and I love competition. I love people who challenge me.
After we went golfing we went to go eat dinner, which is where things started to get ridiculous. For the entire date this kid had been agreeing with me on everything I said. I felt as if my identity were being Xeroxed before my eyes. There was no way that we had everything in common, so, in my slightly ticked-off state, I decided to test him.
When he asked me the next question, “What kind of movies do you like?,” I responded with, “I hate all movies, except for chick flicks. I won’t watch anything else.” Absurd and ridiculous statement, right? What guy in their right mind would agree with that? Well, he replied, “I see where you are coming from.” “No, you don’t.” I wanted to yell across the table.
Next he asked me if I liked sports, I replied, “I think sports are a canker on the academic institution.”
Not only did the question and answer session continue in this ridiculous manner, but I started spouting ridiculous political opinions at him, trying to exaggerate to the very left side, my liberal wing ideologies. This didn’t seem to bother him either, he too, coincidentally, agreed with all of my socialistic policies and ideals.
After dinner and a brief, awkward drive up the canyon, he dropped me off at my apartment and drove away. I had been in my room for about 10 seconds when my phone buzzed.
It was a text. How quaint. I slid open my phone to reveal the following message from our uncouth friend, “So, how do you think that went?”
I am an honest person. I tell it like it is. I spent the next 10 minutes explaining to him, that I had a very fun time, he was very nice and polite, but that I did not have any feelings for him in that manner and would be declining a second date.
He accepted this and I was relieved. The world could go back to normal ... for three days.
Yes, three days after this date, I received the following text message, “So I’ve been thinking, and I decided that I don’t think it was fair that you judged me like that after one date ‘cause really, how can you know if you have feelings for someone after one date? So I think I deserve one more chance because I am a good guy.”
I was blown away. Sending something like that takes nerve. Well, I spent the next hour, yes, hour, explaining to him that it would not be fair for either of us to go on a second date, it would just be a waste of our time, because I knew already that I would never be able to like him in that manner.
He persisted to pester me and when I wouldn’t give in to a second date, began to get angry. He said I was a mean person, that I hold men to impossible standards, and that I will end up sad and lonely in life. I laughed, then replied that he probably shouldn’t text me anymore, in fact I insisted upon it.
So, James McAvoy? I think not, and, this is only one of my awful blind date experiences. I have never had a good blind date, I can’t recall hearing of anyone who has had a good blind date experience and yet I maintain hope each time a new blind date opportunity arises that I will finally get my Meg Ryan moment.
Are we as humans sometimes too naively hopeful? Is it foolish of me to believe that one day I might be able to have a romantic evening that can compete with the best fictional creations Hollywood has to offer?
Despite striking out several times with the blind date method of finding love, I refuse to give up hope that I could meet someone spectacular. Karma owes me big time in this dating category, and I am sure one day the universe will reward me for the vast amount of bad luck I have encountered.
So, yes, in answer to the question on your mind, I will continue to blind date in the future.
I don’t know what my next blind date holds in store for me, but I do know one thing: I would be willing to bet very good money that it will be exponentially better than the one I just had.
USU scientist studies chemicals in Cache Valley air
Published: Friday, September 19, 2008
USU scientist Phil Silva has spent the last four years studying what conditions and chemicals in Utah’s atmosphere cause air pollution and inversions, in particular, the chemistry behind the pollution, and what sources cause particular chemical emissions.
“We live in this small little bowl,” Silva said regarding Cache Valley’s geographical structure. “It’s the combination of having the agricultural emissions with the urban emissions, and then in winter when we get cold temperatures, the inversion has no place to go. It’s like putting a lid on a pot.”
Silva said he started doing sampling in Cache Valley two years ago to figure out what types of particles made up the bad air.
“We did a couple air samplings during the years when we had really bad inversions, 2004 and 2005,” he said. “The major component is a mixture of ammonium nitrate, which comes from the combination of the ammonia in agriculture and nox from vehicles.”
The state government has drawn from Silva’s earlier work in analyzing the air, and have been using it as a baseline for how to address air pollution, Silva said.
“The state of Utah is now been declared a non-attained and over the next couple years the state and the local body here, the Board of Health, have to come up with plans on how to meet the standards in the future,” he said.
The Board of Health regulates air pollution because there are links between poor air quality and poor health affects, Silva said.
“There has been a lot of work done to try to figure out what the health agent, but there is still a lot of debate as to which compound is the culprit. All we know is that there is a statistical correlation between levels of particular matter and observed affects, not just short-term affects, but things like asthma,” he said.
The first step towards better air is to look at the emmissions from vehicles and try to find ways to reduce harmful emissions from them, Silva said. The agricultural side is harder to figure out how to reduce, he said, because it is more difficult to address.
Silva said he is working with a team of graduate and undergraduate students, who take regular air pollution samplings, as well as samplings at USU’s agricultural facilities, “so that we can study the chemistry of the chemicals out there and try to understand them better.”
Silva said he is has been collaborating with the University of California the last two years to observe this particular research regarding “some other constituents that are not the main pollutants, but from the standpoint of a chemist, are interesting because the chemistry had not been studied very much.”
“Basically we have been trying to understand the chemistry in Cache Valley, we have a pretty good idea of what the important chemical compounds are, and so that gives us an idea of what issues need to be addressed in order to address pollution levels,” he said. “However, we have gone off in this different direction because the question of some of these agricultural emissions have a broader impact, that these might be important compounds to look at.”
Silva, who has now been researching Cache Valley air quality for four years, said he will be continuing his research because, “as is the case with science, as you try to answer questions, you typically come up with more questions.”
USU scientist Phil Silva has spent the last four years studying what conditions and chemicals in Utah’s atmosphere cause air pollution and inversions, in particular, the chemistry behind the pollution, and what sources cause particular chemical emissions.
“We live in this small little bowl,” Silva said regarding Cache Valley’s geographical structure. “It’s the combination of having the agricultural emissions with the urban emissions, and then in winter when we get cold temperatures, the inversion has no place to go. It’s like putting a lid on a pot.”
Silva said he started doing sampling in Cache Valley two years ago to figure out what types of particles made up the bad air.
“We did a couple air samplings during the years when we had really bad inversions, 2004 and 2005,” he said. “The major component is a mixture of ammonium nitrate, which comes from the combination of the ammonia in agriculture and nox from vehicles.”
The state government has drawn from Silva’s earlier work in analyzing the air, and have been using it as a baseline for how to address air pollution, Silva said.
“The state of Utah is now been declared a non-attained and over the next couple years the state and the local body here, the Board of Health, have to come up with plans on how to meet the standards in the future,” he said.
The Board of Health regulates air pollution because there are links between poor air quality and poor health affects, Silva said.
“There has been a lot of work done to try to figure out what the health agent, but there is still a lot of debate as to which compound is the culprit. All we know is that there is a statistical correlation between levels of particular matter and observed affects, not just short-term affects, but things like asthma,” he said.
The first step towards better air is to look at the emmissions from vehicles and try to find ways to reduce harmful emissions from them, Silva said. The agricultural side is harder to figure out how to reduce, he said, because it is more difficult to address.
Silva said he is working with a team of graduate and undergraduate students, who take regular air pollution samplings, as well as samplings at USU’s agricultural facilities, “so that we can study the chemistry of the chemicals out there and try to understand them better.”
Silva said he is has been collaborating with the University of California the last two years to observe this particular research regarding “some other constituents that are not the main pollutants, but from the standpoint of a chemist, are interesting because the chemistry had not been studied very much.”
“Basically we have been trying to understand the chemistry in Cache Valley, we have a pretty good idea of what the important chemical compounds are, and so that gives us an idea of what issues need to be addressed in order to address pollution levels,” he said. “However, we have gone off in this different direction because the question of some of these agricultural emissions have a broader impact, that these might be important compounds to look at.”
Silva, who has now been researching Cache Valley air quality for four years, said he will be continuing his research because, “as is the case with science, as you try to answer questions, you typically come up with more questions.”
Students get creative with needle and thread
Published: Friday, November 7, 2008
Stockroom Fashion, a new local clothing company, had an open house Thursday night to showcase their recycled and personalized clothing.
USU students, brothers Nate and Ben Wood and Kate Clark, who refer to themselves as the “Mozart, Bach and Chopin of fashion,” run their business out of a room in the basement of their house, named the stockroom.
Marsupial T-shirts, bleach-spotted shirts, key necklaces, fish jackets, cowgirl boots and sequined jackets are among the items sold at Stockroom Fashions.
The three designers have been personalizing clothing since they were teenagers. Clark said she started making clothing in high school, Ben said he started “drawing peace signs on shirts” in eighth grade and Nate said he started making headbands in seventh grade.
“We are expressing ourselves through clothes,” Clark said. “We love what we do.”
Nate said he believes fashion follows skateboarding trends while Clark said she draws inspiration from Audrey Hepburn and Andy Warhol, and Ben said he tries his best to create shock value with his clothing.
“We try to do something you wouldn’t expect to see, like any other piece of art,” Clark said.
Nate said, “We each have our own style. My life is a game of dress up. I would say my style is eclectic. We each have our own specialty.”
Ben agreed and pointed out some differences in their styles.
“Kate is retro-ey, and softer, and I would call myself a Jack-of-all-trades,” he said.
“Everything is one of a kind, and we put a lot of emotion into the things we make, we aren’t making things to sell them, we care about what we make and each piece is special,” Clark said.
Nate said they buy old stuff and modify it.
“We get a good portion of our stuff from the D.I.,” he said.
Nate said they would all ideally like to make clothing for a living, but the current business’ success is necessary before that can happen.
“People have to buy stuff first,” he said. “If I could make clothes and jewelry for a living, I would be the happiest man on the planet.”
The price range varies depending on the piece and the work put into it, but the more a customer purchases, the better deal they get.
“I think the most expensive thing we have is the beaver top hat and that is about $100,” Ben said. “Custom clothes are really expensive, so comparatively we are really cheap.”
Nate said many people do not yet know about their clothing, but things are looking up as they have recently acquired new customers in Alaska and Texas.
Stockroom Fashions currently sells clothing through their Web site at www.myspace.com/stockroomfashion, but Clark said “we have a different Web site being made where you can pay with credit card, but for now people just message us if they want a piece, and send us a check in the mail, and we mail them the piece back, or they can come and pick it up from our house.”
For students with similar goals, but who are wary of starting their own business, Clark was encouraging.
“Go for it, do it, you can think about it think about it, and never do it, so just do it,” he said. “There isn’t a wrong way to do it.”
Photo by Britney Brent
‘The Apprentice’ winner gives business advice to students
Published: Friday, October 10, 2008
Anything can be used as a brand name or trademark to promote a business or person, including a hairstyle, said Sean Yazbeck, winner of the 2006 season of Donald Trump’s reality TV show, “The Apprentice.”
Yazbeck gave the keynote speech at the 18th annual USU Partners in Business Customer Service and Marketing Seminar, on “lessons in sales and branding.”
Yazbeck kicked off the seminar by telling attendees of his experience on “The Apprentice.”
“It’s nerve-wracking, one of the most stressful things I’ve done in my whole career,” Yazbeck said.
One million people applied to be on the 2006 season of “The Apprentice,” Yazbeck said, “It’s like ‘American Idol’ auditions except instead of screaming girls you have a bunch of professionals standing around trying to look business like.”
Yazbeck said during auditions he was first sent to a board room with twelve other people where they were asked “heavyweight questions” like, “How do you feel about the war in Iraq?”
“All of us were trying to scream over the top of each other, and finally I said to everyone that we should do it in an organized manner, and that’s what got me to the next round,” he said.
After that, Yazbeck said he was flown to Hollywood with 50 other people and given a psychological examination for two days.
“They ask you literally thousands of questions, which at the time were really random like, ‘Do you talk to yourself?’ But at the end of the two days they were able to tell me things about myself that were spot on,” he said.
His strategy, Yazbeck said, was to “keep my head down, let all the stupid people get fired, and then half way through I said, ‘OK, I could really win this,’” and he did.
Yazbeck has now worked for Trump for two years, and said through that experience was able to start a successful new company, WAVSYS, by “leveraging the Trump brand name.” Yazbeck said he started WAVSYS with $10,000, but is now invoicing over $1 million a month.
Yazbeck said he attributes his quick success with his association with The Apprentice has opened many doors for him.
“I can call up the COO of T-mobile and say, ‘Hey, this is Sean Yazbeck, the apprentice, phoning from the Trump Organization,’ and they will say, ‘Oh yeah! C’mon over, we’ll have lunch,’” he said.
Yazbeck even told attendees the secret of Donald Trump’s hair-do trademark.
“I asked him, ‘Mr Trump, what’s up with the hair?” He said, ‘Do you know why I do it? Because people talk about it,’” he said.
Yazbeck told the seminar attendees that brand names and trademarks like the Trump coif lead to success, and anyone can market themselves, they just need an original trademark.
“I’ve always been the English guy, and I’ve always milked that,” Yazbeck said. “ I know my time as ‘The Apprentice’ has a shelf life, so when it expires, I will just go back to being the English guy.”
During the rest of his speech, Yazbeck gave four tips to being a good salesman.
First, he said, people like to do business with their friends, “it’s not who you know, it’s who knows you.”
Second, talk friendly, not professionally, Yazbeck said.
“If you’re not likable then you shouldn’t be in sales,” he said.
His third piece of advice was sales people should also be able to adapt like a chameleon, and lastly, he said to never make cold calls, give good service, and then rely on referrals from satisfied customers.
As his final comment, Yazbeck offered two pieces of advice particularly for students, on how to succeed in the job market.
“Do something you are passionate about, and do something you know,” he said.
Photo by Britney Brent
Art department celebrates 100 years
Published: Wednesday, October 8, 2008
USU’s Caine School of the Arts’ Department of Art is celebrating their 100-year anniversary, kicking off the celebration with a faculty art exhibit in the newly renovated Twain B. Tippetts Gallery, located in the Chase Fine Arts building.
Carolyn Cardenas, head of the art department, said the art department is “a fabulous program all across the board.”
The art department has eight areas of emphasis for 350 undergraduate students, and a graduate program with 22 current students, who Cardenas said are the “hardest working students” at USU.
“The BFA (bachelor’s of fine arts) and MFA (master’s of fine arts) are professional degrees, so you can’t fool around,” Cardenas said. “We have the best students in the whole university, because they have to put in the kind of hours you would expect from a medical or law student, because what they are making is a labor of love, representing the deepest parts of themselves, so it is very time consuming, sometimes over 100 hours for one project.”
The art department was founded in 1908, Cardenas said, after the first department head, Calvin Fletcher, had gone to New York and studied with Robert Henri, a great famous American school painter.
“It all really started with painting,” Cardenas said. “They had come back from New York and were painting landscapes in the area, and it just sort of bubbled up from there until it became a college.”
Since 1908 the art department has grown from a four-teacher faculty to a broadly trained 19, Cardenas said.
“The faculty come from all over,” she said.
Cardenas said she is from Ohio, and other professors are from Nebraska, Mississippi, Yale, Rhode Island, Ruckers, Oregon and even Korea.
“What makes this department unique at the moment is its history. All of the people who have lived and worked here over the last 20 years, their commitment has been about their craftsmanship, but they are also tied to the land. Many of the people are here because of the land, there is a connection between the land and every single person that is here,” Cardenas said.
Ashley Cottle, junior majoring in graphic design, who attended the faculty gallery opening Monday night said, “This is beautiful work, the faculty are all very talented and passionate about their art. I want to have that same kind of passion.”
Cottle has been a part of the art department for three years and said she has been pleased with her experience.
“I am very impressed and happy with the education I am getting,” she said.
Cardenas said all of the majors are competitive, but the most competitive program is the graphic design program.
“We actually turn away graphic design students because it is such a highly demanded major, and we don’t have enough teachers to teach it,” she said.
Cardenas said during the next few years graphic design will be even more cutting edge, with 3-D motion design.
“We have a great graphic design program, we have alumni that are working for Pixar, we have alumni who worked on a section of ‘Lord of the Rings.’ Our graphic design guys really know what they are doing about motion design, so that’s what we are going to do the next few years with that,” she said.
As for other emphasis areas, Cardenas said the ceramics program is “one of the top in the country.”
“We have students who come from all over the world to study ceramics,” she said.
Cardenas said the photography program is also expanding.
“Our photography program is taking off into digital, but we are also focusing on the past, with 19th century photography,” she said, “because it is also about handing down from master to apprentice, but we are stepping into the next dimension with technology.”
Cardenas said she is excited about the future of the department, and hopes to accommodate many more students who are “propelled by the creative energy.”
“There is something inside all of us that demands that we respond to the creative spirit, and art is the easiest thing because it just takes something in your hand to make a line,” she said.
“This year during admissions, there is a form you can fill out that asks what you would like to take at the university, and 2,000 students bubbled in drawing,” Cardenas said. “If the university would give us more faculty we would take as many students as would come.”
Cardenas said the faculty exhibit for the 100-year anniversary will be on display Oct. 6 – 30, and everyone is invited to come look at the “talented faculty artwork.”
Photo by Cameron Peterson
USU introduces more hybrids to fleet of cars
Published: Friday, October 24, 2008
As part of USU’s sustainability efforts, eight new hybrid sedans have been added to the university fleet, bringing the number of university-owned hybrids to 10.
Kevin Phillips, manager of USU’s fleet and resource recovery, said the first university hybrid car was purchased in 2006, the second in 2007, eight more in 2008 and anticipates adding a few more in 2009.
“We should be getting 15 new vehicles next year and we hope that a few of them are hybrids. It’s an incremental process each year as we continue to transition in hybrid cars,” Phillips said.
Three of the new hybrid cars have been added to the central fleet, which is composed of 70 cars, and can be rented by any university department, Phillips said, and the other five new cars are owned by individual departments including the natural resources department.
“We applaud the departments who have taken this innovative step, and hope other departments will take their lead,” Phillips said.
The eight new cars cost $22,000 each, which is $4,000 to $5,000 more than comparable vehicles, Phillips said.
“The hybrids are more expensive, but with the price of gas I feel it is a good investment,” he said.
The new cars are warranted for up to 100,000 miles, which Phillips said lasts about five years, at which point the university will sell the cars and purchase new ones.
Phillips said renting a hybrid car from the central fleet is “slightly more expensive, 35 cents per mile versus 32 cents for the standard because of the $4,000 to $5,000 cost difference, but you also have to pay for your own gas, so it pays off in the long run.”
Phillips said the hybrid cars average 40 to 50 miles per gallon, while comparable cars average 23 to 24.
Phillips said there is also new plug-in technology for hybrids that has been researched in California for the last year, which will increase the current range of 40-50 miles per gallon to 80 to 100, and speculates this plug-in feature could come out as soon as 2010.
“We are constantly looking to upgrade to the most efficient and sustainable technology available,” Phillips said. “Departments looking into buying hybrid cars for next year must place their orders now.”
Phillips said with the new budget cuts placed on higher education he does not anticipate departments will make big sustainability efforts.
“If it comes between losing a faculty member or keeping the old car around for a few more years, they will always keep their staff,” Phillips said. “I hope every organization will make the outlay to buy hybrids if they get the chance.”
Photo by Cameron Peterson
True Aggies set new school record
Published: Monday, October 27, 2008
Thousands of students gathered by the “A” Friday evening to break the school kissing record and ring in the 90-year anniversary of the True Aggie tradition in style.
In 2000, two thousand students all kissed at midnight, setting the old record, said Megan Darrington, Student Alumni Association traditions vice president.
“This year our goal was to beat that, and I have no idea how many people are here, but we had people counting, and we definitely handed out more than 2,000 stickers, so I’m calling it and just hoping they all kissed at the same time,” she said.
To keep track of how many students were kissing at the “A,” every couple was given a matching number sticker set, Darrington said.
Regardless of record, Darrington said, “This is the biggest True Aggie turnout we’ve seen in years, so this was a success for us. We just wanted to get the tradition out there.”
Darrington said the True Aggie tradition was started in 1917 by the Beno Club, who “constructed the ‘A’ block, which has been around forever. The A was moved around a lot, but finally landed its spot here on Old Main.”
To become a True Aggie, Darrington said, “You have to kiss someone that is already a True Aggie on a full moon, that’s once a month, but on Homecoming and A-Day it’s free game. You can kiss anyone you want.”
Amanda Maughan, senior majoring in biology, was one student who took advantage of the opportunity to become a True Aggie.
“This was my first time becoming a True Aggie, and it’s also my first, and probably last Homecoming, so it was magical,” she said. “I got to kiss this really great guy, and becoming a True Aggie was really great.”
Another first-time True Aggie, Justin Stocking, sophomore in accounting, said, “I am very glad about my decision to become a True Aggie. It was life changing, one of the funnest things I’ve done all year.”
Stocking said he was glad to be a part of the USU record breaking event.
“I’ve felt I have set a higher bar now for future students at Utah State,” Stocking said.
True Aggie nights are held once a month every full moon, the next being held Nov. 13, Darrington said.
“It’s an awesome tradition, it’s been around since the school’s been here, so it’s way cool, I hope everyone gets a chance to experience it,” Darrington said. “Tonight’s event was really a last minute thing, but it turned out awesome. I just want to thank the students for coming out and supporting this tradition, this was awesome.”
Photo by Debra Hawkins
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