Maybe not as funny as we thought…

I’m a girl, this is true, which means that I have most definitely gone to my fair share of chick flicks. You know, the genre that tells the beautiful romantic story about the perfect guy falling in love with the girl who may or may not have everything together but is most definitely hot. Usually I leave with a sigh over the loveliness of love, commenting with my girlfriends about the clothes and why we thought it was so good. Usually though too I leave with a sense of sadness, as many of my chick flick watching nights occurred while I was convincingly single.

Maybe these movies aren’t quite as “harmless” or “romantic” or even as “funny” as we had previously thought. As I was discussing movies with one of my friends last year, the point was brought up that this type of movie may be more destructive to our society than the most violent, hate-filled movie that you have seen yet, and should, I posit, garner our outrage even more than the recent release, Brokeback Mountain.

How is this so? Well, I think for a number of reasons romantic comedies mess with our heads (specifically the heads of women). They tell us that in order to be happy, we must have a man who will romantically care for us, who will take us out to dinner and bring us flowers, who we will most definitely have immediate sex with, and who will finally give us the meaning in our life that we have long been waiting for. I think this type of thinking takes away from so much of life, from single life and even from “relationship” life (i.e. married or dating). It says that to find another person is completeness, that one person alone is not “complete” or wholly acceptable to society as something of value. It says that women, just don’t quite have it figured out, and that a single woman, especially a single woman who is getting older, just isn’t quite good enough as she is when she is with a man. If fact, she is sort of a stigma, almost a pariah.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think relationships are great (I just recently entered a very long term one…) but I don’t think that a relationship is a source of absolute purpose in one’s life.

So maybe next time you see a romantic comedy, or hear a girl talk about seeing one, ask her how she feels after the movie. Most likely, there is a vague sense of discontent about life, especially if she is single, and this type of though pollutes the mind of women to no end.

Not so funny or romantic after all…

My brother wrote this story about meeting with a poor woman-it made me think a lot about how we interact and how we "should" interact with others...maybe it will make you think too?

She was in my path, I could not avoid. I was on my way out of the hospital after some tests. But averted eyes failed me as she began to talk, ask, and I acknowledged. Her teeth looked like they hurt, as she crunched on Cheetos. Age had born down on her, gray hair wiry straight, dark yes clouded, weathered skin, teeth worn, some missing. She spoke, but I could not understand. Again? She probably needed money. Little else makes me squirm inside like such questions, face to face, in the reality of the person. She said her mother had just died. Four hours ago, I later found out. She needed the bus, money for the bus. I stood there, mute. I listened, not comprehending. She said her name, and extended her hand. I shook it, saying my name. She explained she needed to get out to Ballston, to take the bus and the metro, where her brother and sister were staying in a hotel, to bring them back to the hospital. She said she hated being poor, that she couldn’t do anything, probably that she had to ask someone, me, for enough stinking money to take the bus home the day her mother died. She said she had to be strong, to carry the load, but she felt so weak. She didn’t know if she could do it, but she had to be strong. She grieved, but she didn’t cry.

She mentioned ten eighty several times, but I could not figure out if this was the bus line or the dollar amount. Wading through her words, through my reactions, the need for clarification did not long stay in my mind. Did her story made sense, yes, was she dangerous, no, crazy, no, but be careful. I was suspicious, and concerned. She appeared distraught. I stood there. Her mother was 80 and she died of congestive heart failure. The heart disease was not new. Gloria said praise Jesus, thank you Jesus when I stayed with her. So I asked if I could pray for her. She said of course. So I prayed a good prayer, with care, while trying to avoid my own insidious self-righteousness. I finished the prayer, and we continued walking, shuffling, to the bus stop. It was only twenty feet away. I ask her if I could give a ride, her there, them back. She said no, just the bus, and then to metro. She was walking slow, stopping, starting again, face downcast. I asked her if she was going to have a funeral. She said yes, that her mother had had insurance. She had to be strong, had to be strong, no one else would. She sat down at the bus stop.

I couldn’t tell if she wanted me to stay with her, so I stayed, standing. She beckoned me to sit down. I felt the eyes of others at the stop on me, then off as I glanced at them. Her voice was rough, scaly, and her words, still hard to understand. A phone rang. It was her mother’s, in her bag. She said to her brother, rasping as she did, that she was taking the bus back to the hotel. Her mother had lived in the hotel, she told me, and now her brother, sister, and she were staying there. In a mixture of pain, sorrow, she said they were staying in one room.

She asked if I had a phone. I said yes, expecting she’d ask if she could use it. She looked through her bag, gave me a pen with Cheeto dust on it. She gave me a piece of paper, and said, your number? I hesitated. She looked at me again. Again I hesitated. She gently took it back from me, with a look of sadness mingled with frustration. To invite you to the funeral, she said. We sat in silence.

Twice she said is the bus coming. Twice I looked over my shoulder, and said no. I asked her if she had the chance to talk with her mom before she died. She said yes. We waited. The bus came, and she said again said ten eighty. I only had three dollars in my wallet. I had just gone out to lunch. The bus was there. She said ten eighty, again ten eighty, and I understood. Later, I realized it must have been to cover the return trip of her, her brother, and her sister. So I gave her three dollars. Again, she spoke a sound of sadness mingled with frustration, and she got on the bus. I walked slowly away. I then realized I did not have enough to pay for parking, so I went to the ATM in the hospital lobby, and took out a twenty.

Jean Shopping with my brother
So I should preface this whole blog with the comment that the LARGEST fight my brother and I have ever been in occured just about a year ago before we were about to embark on a jean shopping expedition. My brother and I, both relatively level-headed people actually started yelling before we got to the GAP. All of this resulted from my insistance that my brother be willing to try on any pair of jeans that I gave him. Now, I'm not a fashion guru, but I do have my foot in the style door and my brother is a handsome guy who needed some jean updating. So we shopped. And we shopped. And we shopped. We successfully tried on EVERY pair of jeans in the entire store. In fact, we tried some of the pairs on two, and even three times.
On the third time that he tried this specific pair of jeans on he cried, "SUCCESS!" And the whole store applauded our efforts. (Well not really, but that is what it felt like...)

Today we embarked again on a jean shopping extravangaza due to his HUGE amount of compiled gift certificates and I'm proud to say that there was no yelling, although at one point in time, Judd boogied in his much too tight jeans (that he was trying on only to reject..) to the "hip" music piped into the Banana Republic store.
The final booty for the day? Two hours of shopping? Two stores? Money left over? But one very sweet pair of khaki pants for my hard to please and ever thorough shopper brother. It was a success indeed.
Also, question for any male reader, at what level do you wear your pants? i.e. # of inches below the waist? Just curious....

I've Been Tagged....

I got tagged so I thought this would be a good way to open my blog:

4 jobs i've had
1. camp counselor. $110/week for 24 hour a day 7 day a week fun.
2. grocery store deli worker complete with hairnet, blue apron, and a wicked eye for good headcheese.
3. babysitter. and yes, i did get puked on.
4. singer in choir. by far the best job. if i thought i could sing, i'd quit med school in a second~

4 movies i'd watched on repeat
1. Usual Suspects. Kaiser Soze is so smart!
2. Center Stage. you know you tried to do the dance moves after you watched it
3. Zoolander
4. sleeping beauty.

4 TV shows i like
1. Oprah. sigh...the makeover shows are the best
2. Lost
3. Simpsons.
4.Jeopardy. the best game show ever.

4 Vacation spots I would like to visit regularly
1. Cairns, Australia. scuba diving and trying to touch as many fish as i could.
2. Coast of ireland. took my breath away
3. Orcas Islands off Washington. Flying in an open air biplane listening to opera
4. Southern ITaly...blue blue blue water by Capri

4 websites besides blogs i visit daily
1. www.boredmark.blogspot.com. he's my husband. of course i'll comment
2. www.facebook.com hey-i'm still a student!
3. www.som.georgetown.edu gotta do some work.
4. no idea? thats all i could think of.

4 Foods I lust after:
1. Chocolate. of any kind. i don't discriminate.
2. Marinated pork tenderloin. preferably peppercorn.
3. French Fries. the crispy ones that good restaurents make. yum. i can feel my arteries clogging.
4. really good celery. i know. its strange. but fiber makes me happy.

4 Changes to my house I would make, if possible:
1. a window in my study
2. more kitchen counters!
3. piano corner (or even just electric keyboard....i'm willing to compromise)
4. bigger closet. due to my clothes hog nature

4 beers i love and people i would drink them with:
1. Guiness with my husband
2. ummmm
3. ummmmm
4. in a pinch? maybe shinerbach

4 things that should have been lists
1. 4 most regrettable outfits/fashion trends
2. 4 new band names
3. 4 favorite childhood memories
4. 4 ideal animals

4 Tags
1. Mikaela?
2. CAtie?
3. Judd?
4. JAquan?