Living with one's mother and working two jobs isn't really great for the social life and all. So how does a boomerang date?
It's an experiment I've actually decided to try.
A few months ago my mother decided to try her hand at online dating. She so enjoyed the attention that she suggested I try it. I used her match.com profile to see who happened to be trying the online thing in my area. I found tons of "eligible" bachelors in my age group, a bit of research showed that all of the folks on the internet are one of two things: Creepers and Gingers*.
It didn't take long for my mom to tire of her experience and offered up the end of her subscription to me. I took a look again. Still creepers and gingers, only this time I saw a familiar face. It was the brother of a guy I hung out with in high school and later dated briefly in college, newly divorced and looking. That sealed it. The internet is not for me.
My friends offered to set me up with someone, I agreed, but said blind date has yet to occur. I've been promised to meet this fellow no later than my fiends' wedding. And I look forward to meeting him and all but I am slowly ageing every day.
I go to the gym as a means of meeting people. I also do it for health and fitness reasons, which in someways makes the meeting people thing harder.
Everyone has suggestions. Everyone has solutions to the dating thing. And now I'm interested in a guy. And thats normal and all but everyone has suggestions ideas of how to make this work, not that it isn't working itself out. This guy and I, sort of. It's tricky but then again people my age don't really date well so tricky is ok. My favorite advice, other than I need to get over myself, was from my younger sister. She said, "Don't be too serious. You're still young." It is ironic advice. But good advice nonetheless.
Trial one (?) of this experiment is a go.
*Sorry Ginger friends, not a fan. I have enough sunburn in my life as it is.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Technology is Beginning to Frighten Me
I recently read Gary Sheytgart's Super Sad True Love Story and it sickened me, not the book itself, it was brilliant but the future that is portrayed in the book was frightening.Then yesterday I was reading the Wall Street Journal while work was slow and this article caught my interest.
It's awesome in the real sense what technology is doing. And as I worry about what information my technology is spewing into the world about me (though I am behind the times, my phone cannot reach the internet) I use it. Everyday I check the statistics of my blogs, this one and my cheekier one Invisible Pen and Ink, see who is reading what I write. Though I don't know exactly who without them leaving a comment, I know how many people read it, I know what country they read it from and I know what browser they used as well as what operating system they use.
I don't really know how this benefits me. This knowledge means very little in my hands, but, and it is one of those things that isn't likely to happen but, if I were marketing something, anything, I'd have a way to sift through my demographic.
But I'm not marketing anything. I'm just throwing my point of view out there and maybe not in the best fashion but it's something. So the technology works for me, and it takes over the world at the same time. Do we wait until the Super Sad True Love Story type apocalypse or stop before we get too close?
I'm considering becoming a hermit. It's either that or I buy and iPhone.
It's awesome in the real sense what technology is doing. And as I worry about what information my technology is spewing into the world about me (though I am behind the times, my phone cannot reach the internet) I use it. Everyday I check the statistics of my blogs, this one and my cheekier one Invisible Pen and Ink, see who is reading what I write. Though I don't know exactly who without them leaving a comment, I know how many people read it, I know what country they read it from and I know what browser they used as well as what operating system they use.
I don't really know how this benefits me. This knowledge means very little in my hands, but, and it is one of those things that isn't likely to happen but, if I were marketing something, anything, I'd have a way to sift through my demographic.
But I'm not marketing anything. I'm just throwing my point of view out there and maybe not in the best fashion but it's something. So the technology works for me, and it takes over the world at the same time. Do we wait until the Super Sad True Love Story type apocalypse or stop before we get too close?
I'm considering becoming a hermit. It's either that or I buy and iPhone.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
A Boomerang: The Diversity Seminar
My mother is a nurse. As a nurse my mother is expected to take so many credits per year to keep her education up to date and her certifications in order (I also have to update my certs every once in a while, I have four, count them four, in pants fit). Last night she came home after having a lunch seminar and explained that people are "so oblivious."
The seminar was a discussion of diversity, the area I live in is still quite homogeneous despite the huge growth it has seen in the last twenty or so years. The nurses and administrators discussed that on top of the language barriers that they deal with there are also education gaps and cultural differences. There was a discussion on the correlation between health and wealth (it's an obvious one, more money means better health insofar as better healthcare). People apparently couldn't understand why people who live below the poverty line or $15000/year have children, eat less healthy foods and have worse health issues than the majority of the people who, as it is the second richest county per capita this year with a median income of $112000/year, live above the poverty line.
But people aren't seeing past the Latino families that fit that picture and there are quite a few, but they see them as a blight something to put up with because if we didn't how would the grass get cut and the bathrooms get clean? But the reality is (with that stupid stereotype aside) the poor people in this area aren't just Latino. I live well below the poverty line and with the help of my mother I am not homeless or into illegal activity to get by. I am also white. Blond and blue eyed, white. I have health insurance. But this week I had to choose, an x-ray with a doctors visit with a co-pay of $50 or my student loans. My credit score suffers this month because of an accident. But my finger is not broken, rather it has a nasty bone bruise and I was right when last week I decided that broken or not I didn't have the money to take care of it.
When this was brought up during the seminar, and yes, my mom during a discussion said "I have a boomerang," before explaining my wiggle into diversity, some of the long time employees of the hospital were confused as to how a white girl could get into such a predicament, why didn't my mother help me out more?
Diversity isn't necessarily a racial/ethnic thing. Here, though understanding cultural differences couldn't help, socioeconomic diversity is the bigger issue. I am considered upper-middle class. I live well below the poverty line. My mother shares the same class distinction and makes a smidge more than half of the county median income. So why is our class so different than our income status? Maybe it's because hard work wins nice things or maybe it's because lucky us we live in a place where people don't see class as clearly as they do in other places. And it should be surprising that people who are well educated and work hard can't get ahead but it shouldn't be that surprising if you watch or read the news.
I am an example of what diversity training is for.
The seminar was a discussion of diversity, the area I live in is still quite homogeneous despite the huge growth it has seen in the last twenty or so years. The nurses and administrators discussed that on top of the language barriers that they deal with there are also education gaps and cultural differences. There was a discussion on the correlation between health and wealth (it's an obvious one, more money means better health insofar as better healthcare). People apparently couldn't understand why people who live below the poverty line or $15000/year have children, eat less healthy foods and have worse health issues than the majority of the people who, as it is the second richest county per capita this year with a median income of $112000/year, live above the poverty line.
But people aren't seeing past the Latino families that fit that picture and there are quite a few, but they see them as a blight something to put up with because if we didn't how would the grass get cut and the bathrooms get clean? But the reality is (with that stupid stereotype aside) the poor people in this area aren't just Latino. I live well below the poverty line and with the help of my mother I am not homeless or into illegal activity to get by. I am also white. Blond and blue eyed, white. I have health insurance. But this week I had to choose, an x-ray with a doctors visit with a co-pay of $50 or my student loans. My credit score suffers this month because of an accident. But my finger is not broken, rather it has a nasty bone bruise and I was right when last week I decided that broken or not I didn't have the money to take care of it.
When this was brought up during the seminar, and yes, my mom during a discussion said "I have a boomerang," before explaining my wiggle into diversity, some of the long time employees of the hospital were confused as to how a white girl could get into such a predicament, why didn't my mother help me out more?
Diversity isn't necessarily a racial/ethnic thing. Here, though understanding cultural differences couldn't help, socioeconomic diversity is the bigger issue. I am considered upper-middle class. I live well below the poverty line. My mother shares the same class distinction and makes a smidge more than half of the county median income. So why is our class so different than our income status? Maybe it's because hard work wins nice things or maybe it's because lucky us we live in a place where people don't see class as clearly as they do in other places. And it should be surprising that people who are well educated and work hard can't get ahead but it shouldn't be that surprising if you watch or read the news.
I am an example of what diversity training is for.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Impossibility of a Budget
It is no secret that I work two jobs and still have trouble making ends meet. This fact is the major reason behind my living at home. So last payday when both my checks landed in my account at the same time (not a common occurrence) I decided to create a budget. I laid it all out and included everything including potential spikes in gas prices.
Tomorrow I am going to the hand surgeon, I didn't budget for breaking my finger, and I didn't budget for it to be getting worse instead of better as time continues. I have two specialist appointments this month and am wondering how I'm going to afford them.
I've given up tons to try to get ahead. I found a new hair dresser, which doesn't sound like much but as I am not in a particularly sound place in my life hair cuts cause an extreme anxiety. I changed and it worked out, but the twenty dollars I saved there isn't even enough to cover half of my co-pay before x-rays and follow ups.
I have a green elephant on my dresser, this elephant could help me with my financial woes. It doesn't hold a ton of money because it is a specific savings fund, the elephant is for a new computer and the hope of a deposit for a school or an apartment. I add to it whenever I have the chance but it doesn't grow very quickly. I eye it every few weeks and consider how helpful it could be. But I won't break into it unless it is an emergency.
How do I budget for the unexpected when most days I worry paying my rent and phone bill? How do I save for the future, and I'm not really talking about the distant future, without causing my bills to go unpaid today?
Tomorrow I am going to the hand surgeon, I didn't budget for breaking my finger, and I didn't budget for it to be getting worse instead of better as time continues. I have two specialist appointments this month and am wondering how I'm going to afford them.
I've given up tons to try to get ahead. I found a new hair dresser, which doesn't sound like much but as I am not in a particularly sound place in my life hair cuts cause an extreme anxiety. I changed and it worked out, but the twenty dollars I saved there isn't even enough to cover half of my co-pay before x-rays and follow ups.
I have a green elephant on my dresser, this elephant could help me with my financial woes. It doesn't hold a ton of money because it is a specific savings fund, the elephant is for a new computer and the hope of a deposit for a school or an apartment. I add to it whenever I have the chance but it doesn't grow very quickly. I eye it every few weeks and consider how helpful it could be. But I won't break into it unless it is an emergency.
How do I budget for the unexpected when most days I worry paying my rent and phone bill? How do I save for the future, and I'm not really talking about the distant future, without causing my bills to go unpaid today?
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Chocolate and Depression
I recently read an article about chocolate consumption and depression. The article was based on a study that noted a correlation between depression and chocolate consumption. Now maybe I'm better versed in chocolate than the average person, or maybe my exposure to scientific studies helps me in this case but I was struck dumb that this was news worthy.
We have been programed to reach for sweets when we're feeling blue and, especially with dark chocolate, there are some "happy" chemicals that make this potentially unhealthy habit worth it. The article didn't even broach that part of the argument, rather it focused on an anecdote about a particular woman who felt guilt over the amount of chocolate she had consumed. Citing that she would feel immediate relief but later regret the thousands of calories she had consumed. It seemed as if there was an attempt to fault chocolate for her depression.
In all honesty I kind of laughed at the attempt. Semantics are a beautiful thing and a chocolate controversy would be a nice way to gain attention for a health web site but toying with people's emotions by using big words isn't fair. Chocolate does not cause depression, and though the article didn't say that was the case it strongly suggested it.
What the study found is that there is an awful lot of people who report being depressed and eating chocolate. That's not any big surprise chocolate, like exercise, releases endorphins and endophins make you feel good. Also chocolate is (mostly) cheaper than antidepressants so for those people who don't need a medical intervention why not have a chocolate bar, just don't over do it an end up like the subject of the anecdote feeling worse than when you started.
We have been programed to reach for sweets when we're feeling blue and, especially with dark chocolate, there are some "happy" chemicals that make this potentially unhealthy habit worth it. The article didn't even broach that part of the argument, rather it focused on an anecdote about a particular woman who felt guilt over the amount of chocolate she had consumed. Citing that she would feel immediate relief but later regret the thousands of calories she had consumed. It seemed as if there was an attempt to fault chocolate for her depression.
In all honesty I kind of laughed at the attempt. Semantics are a beautiful thing and a chocolate controversy would be a nice way to gain attention for a health web site but toying with people's emotions by using big words isn't fair. Chocolate does not cause depression, and though the article didn't say that was the case it strongly suggested it.
What the study found is that there is an awful lot of people who report being depressed and eating chocolate. That's not any big surprise chocolate, like exercise, releases endorphins and endophins make you feel good. Also chocolate is (mostly) cheaper than antidepressants so for those people who don't need a medical intervention why not have a chocolate bar, just don't over do it an end up like the subject of the anecdote feeling worse than when you started.
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Story of a Sad Shoe Shopper
I am a huge fan of shoes. I like ones in inappropriate colors best of all. With summer fast approaching I thought I'd try my feet at some TOMS. Keds are more traditional but the TOMS business plan (I supposed you'd call it that) just makes so much more sense to me.
After a search of the most bizarre patterns and colors I was ready to purchase. I read the quick description as I went to the drop down box to pick my very large shoe size. I was stopped by a single word. A word that most people wouldn't even consider. Wouldn't notice. A word that is inconsequential to something like 99% of the population. And all it said was that the arch support that TOMS lovers adore is made of latex. Latex. I, unfortunately, am not a member of the 99%. I am the allergic other.
My heart sank at that clump of letter. I want shoes that will give other people shoes. But because of some strange twist in biology I have to choose from the traditional set of summer shoes. Today the world seems less fair.
Thank you TOMS customer service. I'm glad you were so willing to answer my questions before I bought a pair of life threatening shoes. I will continue to proclaim their awesomeness to all! And may get a pair for my sisters on their birthdays.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Congrats!
I should congratulate those of my friends who have managed jobs away from home. Kudos to your anti-boomeranging.
DeLillo in a Day
My junior year of college, my second to last semester, the one I used to finish all my degree requirements, I took a class on the works of Don DeLillo.
I had read and enjoyed him before the class (and seemed much more engaging than a class on Blake or Shakespeare). I loved how each sentence is a mouthful of words being presented perfectly, spitting the ABCs out in perfect order while eating alphabet soup. My own yearning for word perfection laid out in front of me as a guideline. I have a goal in DeLillo.
As I am devouring books at the moment I hit the library with my three-year-old nephew on my day off to save some money. He isn't as I sort through titles so on this particular trip I grab Wuthering Heights, Saturday (which I got home and discovered I owned), and a few books by DeLillo. I picked up Point Omega during the day but never finished the first page. So Thursday at work I started over. And Thursday at work I finished it.
Fin. Done. Cover to cover. In one work day while working. And though I've read the book and enjoyed it more than most of the books I've read lately I don't think I understood it. I mean I did. And the words!
But in spite of my loving the words and kind of understanding the book I wouldn't, couldn't, write a review about it let alone an essay for fear of looking foolish.
This fear stems from the class I think. From only seeing some of what was being discussed, feeling intellectually dwarfed by hippies, thrift store junkies and film club presidents not to mention the Dude.
And other than the Dude, who was our esteemed professor, I'm not sure they were any more able to grasp the "stuff" in DeLillo than I was, am. But my hair was too neat and my eyes too clear to have the confidence to call B.S. on all of them.
So I try DeLillo again. I'll search the text, the words, my hear for orange juice and if nothing else breathe those words. Dwarf or not I allow myself the words. DeLillo's words are the closest thing to Synesthesia I have ever experienced. They taste good.
I had read and enjoyed him before the class (and seemed much more engaging than a class on Blake or Shakespeare). I loved how each sentence is a mouthful of words being presented perfectly, spitting the ABCs out in perfect order while eating alphabet soup. My own yearning for word perfection laid out in front of me as a guideline. I have a goal in DeLillo.
As I am devouring books at the moment I hit the library with my three-year-old nephew on my day off to save some money. He isn't as I sort through titles so on this particular trip I grab Wuthering Heights, Saturday (which I got home and discovered I owned), and a few books by DeLillo. I picked up Point Omega during the day but never finished the first page. So Thursday at work I started over. And Thursday at work I finished it.
Fin. Done. Cover to cover. In one work day while working. And though I've read the book and enjoyed it more than most of the books I've read lately I don't think I understood it. I mean I did. And the words!
But in spite of my loving the words and kind of understanding the book I wouldn't, couldn't, write a review about it let alone an essay for fear of looking foolish.
This fear stems from the class I think. From only seeing some of what was being discussed, feeling intellectually dwarfed by hippies, thrift store junkies and film club presidents not to mention the Dude.
And other than the Dude, who was our esteemed professor, I'm not sure they were any more able to grasp the "stuff" in DeLillo than I was, am. But my hair was too neat and my eyes too clear to have the confidence to call B.S. on all of them.
So I try DeLillo again. I'll search the text, the words, my hear for orange juice and if nothing else breathe those words. Dwarf or not I allow myself the words. DeLillo's words are the closest thing to Synesthesia I have ever experienced. They taste good.
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