Currently on "Repeat Play" in my Head...

Since I am a music junkie, I may do this from time to time. Here is the song I currently have stuck in my brain... by one of my all time favorite artists.

"You Don't Know Me" by Ben Folds

I wanna ask you;

Do you ever sit and wonder

Its so strange that we could be together

For so long and never know, never care

What goes on in the other one's head?

Things I felt but I never said

You said things that I never said

So I'll say something that I should have said long ago...

(You don't know me)

You don't know me at all.

You could have just propped me up at the table like a mannequin

Or a cardboard stand up and paint me

Any face that you wanted me to be

See, we're damned by the existential moment

When we saw the couple in a coma and

It was weakened with the cliche

But we carried on anyway

So, sure, I could just close my eyes

Yeah, sure, trace and memorize

But, can you go back once you know?

(You don't know me)

You don't know me at all.

If I'm the person that you think I am

Clueless chump you seem to think I am

So easily led astray, an errant dog

Who occasionally escapes and needs a shorter leash then

Why the f*@# would you want me back?

Maybe its because...

You don't know me at all.

So what I'm trying to say is

What I'm trying to tell you is

Not gonna come out like I wanna say it

Cause I only know you'll change it... (Say It!)

(You don't know me.)

You don't know me at all.

Can I See Some I.D.?

It is very apparent how our society defines identity.  People have been asking us the same question since we were old enough to answer – “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  Back in the days when my brain was still buying the whole “sky is the limit” mentality, my answers were always a point of pride. Whatever the latest ambition was (Princess! Teacher! President! Doctor! Actor! Psychologist!), I always felt it was the best me possible.  Seeking affirmation, I always hoped that those asking would see in me the qualities I imagined such a person would possess… and, if I was asking my Mom, she would 100% of the time. This is a woman who still, TO THIS DAY, would fully support my ambitions to become a world-famous model

(“I have always said you had the perfect nose for it!”) or even president (“We need someone like you!” – this makes me laugh because I can hardly even begin to name all the reason we absolutely DO NOT need anyone remotely like me as president).  She is, and always has been, truly blind with love.

So, why is that we have suddenly reached the age where we feel shame when we have to ask ourselves the famous question.  What DO I want to be when I grow up? – Is it so bad that I don’t fully know?   I guess people assume that come quarter-life (yikes!) you should know who you are… which apparently means knowing what you “want to be”…  which apparently means what you do for a career.   Thus…

Who You Are = What You Do

Now I've heard from time to time that "you are what you eat" (which has never really settled right with me -- no pun intended), but the idea of being what I do is somehow even more disturbing.    Or, maybe I’m only uncomfortable with this idea because I spend my days typing, making unwanted phone calls, and fake laughing at the jokes of a boss who seems

 to hate what he is doing (and, come to think of it, who he is as well) even more than I do.  Is that who I am?     (Please, please, PLEASE tell me that you are joining me in a rousing chorus of "HELL NO," because I can hardly bear the thought that even one person out there is thinking, “Why, yes.  Yes it is.”)

And, before you go wondering, “What kind of job can I get that’s going to show who I really am?”-- think again.    Cause, what I am starting to wonder is whether the question was ever right to begin with… or maybe it’s the way we answer that’s all

 wrong.  Why are we defined by our career?  Why do we answer with jobs when asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  It is like we are injecting into

 the tiny fragile brains of the next generation this idea that they will Be the job they Do. Which, quite frankly, is especially silly in a society where the success of the whole is dependent upon somebody being willing to work the unglamorous, thankless jobs (sucks for you Gary Garbageman, Wanda Waitress, Alan Assemblyline and Colleen Clerical).  Is the “backbone of America” destined for identity crisis?  And, really, if we truly are what we say we will grow up to be… then aren’t the only people feeling like their life matters the few who have jobs that actually touch/better/save the lives of others?    That can’t be right…

It seems to me that we all are due an identity crisis.  We need to step back, take 

off the colored lenses we filter our view of identity through, and start looking at ourselves for what we really are.   What are the parts of ourselves that are sincerely us… and, beyond that, who are we in Christ?  If we could start living out the truth of who we are called to be, perhaps we’d stop feeling so discontent with not having life figured out.   It would be ok to be a 24-yr-old without an answer to the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  Or, better yet, we could simply start answering something like – “Compassionate. Service Oriented. Informed. Committed. Loving.”

I'm Just Not That Into It

Since Jake and I are a bit anti-Valentine’s Day (not the sentiment… just the commercial aspect)we ended up making our plans the night before, long after 99.9% of Pittsburgh’s couples had booked their romantically overpriced candle-lit dinner reservations. As a result, we happily chose a late lunch date and an early movie. I had heard a lot of talk about “He’s Just Not That Into You” – I have several friends (to protect their identity we’ll call them “Janie, Kerryn, and Jilliann”) who have claimed this book a single woman’s manifesto – and I expected an easy going RomCom that took some comedic jabs at modern-day dating standards. Swept up in Val’s Day emotion, Jake miraculously agreed (normally, I have to create a three point thesis to sway the argument and win RENTING this type of movie).

Great actors + Great concept + Great book = Great Movie?
Not. So. Much.

I was so disappointed because I really wanted to like it, but I just could not get over how pathetic several of the characters came off. I literally felt AWKWARD in many of the scenes that were meant to be funny. Lets take a second and break down why these characters seemed like such sad sacks to me:

(Spoiler Alert: If you haven’t seen the movie and want to, DON’T READ.)

Exhibit A: Ginnifer Goodwin as the average girl. She is beautiful, kind-hearted, and successful… and yet she obsessively waits by the phone (stereotype, anyone?) and literally goes on stalker quests for guys she has met once. She ends up falling for a guy she originally said she was not attracted to only because she thinks he has fallen for her. She is wrong -- he brutally rejects her. Oh, no wait! She is right: he has a miraculous change of heart, throws his beloved bachelor lifestyle out the window, and they live happily ever after (or, at least we are led to believe so by how amazing they are playing Catchphrase/Taboo with their friends).

Exhibit B: Scarlet Johansson as the seductress. Flirts with and eventually falls for someone else’s “perfect husband.” At first he tries to resist, but her persistence to use his connections to further her career ultimately lead to major sexual tension (which, is normally present when a girl takes off her clothes in front of her male “friend”). Meanwhile, even though she has no interest in a relationship with him, she keeps another guy on the side (who legitimately loves her) for emotional affirmation. Later, Scar-Jo is in the middle of a sexcapade with the married guy when his wife knocks on the office door. She has to hide in the closet and listen to him have sex with his wife --- she is disgusted that he would do such a horrible thing [insert eye roll here] and breaks it off.



I think I’ll resist going off about the 3 other woman, but to sum them up: Jennifer Aniston is with a man against the idea of marriage, but in the end -- surprise! -- they get married. Drew Barrymore is a lovable romance misfit who finds love in her best friends ex (because its not weird AT ALL when your best friend has slept with your boyfriend). And, Jennifer Connelly is married to the guy sleeping with Scar-Jo (which she blames herself for) and ends up divorcing him not for his affair, but for his smoking.

Now granted -- I get that I’m being critical here. I fully realize that the movie was trying to weave a complex web of relationships, play up stereotypes, and even throw in a few surprises. But, I can’t help but feel like the movie is a bit, dare I say it, SEXIST. The women in this movie seem sad. And, the “guru” bartender (who ends up with Ginnifer Goodwin) is portrayed as intuitive and honest – and, yet, he speaks about the desperation/obsession of Ginnifer’s character as if is true for all women. This simply CANNOT be true for all single women.

Mentioning this to a friend at church (20-something, in a dating relationship), she came back at me swinging:

Friend: I loved that movie!

Me: Really? I just felt like it made women look so pathetic. I felt sad for those women!

Friend: Colleen, when was the last time you were even single?

Me: Um, I guess a pretty long time ago… I mean, Jake and I started dating when I was 18.

Friend: Ok, well, there it is. We don’t all meet our husbands when we are 12 and never have to be out there. So, don’t try to pretend you know what its like.


Ouch. And, you know what, maybe she is right. I don’t like to be made to feel I have to APOLOGIZE for having “found” my husband when I was young… but, maybe I just assume that dating dynamics aren’t that much different then when we were teens (which, admittedly, is flawed thinking). I may not be your average apron-wearing, “marriage is so wonderful”-proclaiming housewife… but, I have caught myself using “we” language from time to time (ew.). Perhaps I have fully overlooked how much having a husband clouds my ability to think about the dating world for what it is. I am on the outside looking in, which (lets face it) is never a great place to get the most informed view. My naivety scares me because I worry it makes my advice to my single friends irrelevant. And, even though they are candid with me about their dating relationships, maybe there is no way for me to really understand what navigating the dating world is like for a single woman my age. And, (though Im not happy about it) I get that.

But, my biggest fear is that my single friends buy into the lie that they have to play the game to score a husband. I hate the thought that they would believe they have to wait by that phone, go “run into him” to make things happen, try to be who he is looking for, or stay in a mediocre relationship because the risk of being alone is too great. Call me old-fashioned – but, I still believe that a strong, independent woman wins at the end of the day. And, that’s good news for “all my single ladies, all my single ladies.”

A girl can hope, right?

Hello, My Name is....

Revelling
Main Entry: 1 rev·el
Function: intransitive verb
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French reveler, literally, to rebel
1 : to take intense pleasure or satisfaction

Reckoning
Main Entry: 1 reck·oning
Function: noun
Date: 14th Century
1 : a settling of accounts
2 : a summing up

Rambling
Main Entry: 1 ram·ble
Function: verb
Etymology: Middle English, probably alteration of romblen, of romen to roam
1 a : to move aimlessly from place to place b : to explore idly
2 : to talk or write in a desultory or long-winded wandering fashion


For some time now I have resisted technology and the age of viral identity. Sure, I signed up for Aol Instant Messenger... but, by the time I did I found out my younger brother and all his friends already had accounts (not to mention 99.9% of all my peers). When my mom bought me a 1st generation iPod for Christmas 2002... it was such a mystery that it sat in a desk drawer for months while I carried around my Sony Disc-Man and 2 lbs of CD's. While I relish the convenience of cell phones... my friends will tell you I quite frequently never pick mine up (I, myself, don't really know if this is simply lack of ringtone/vibration awareness or intentional ignorance). When friends or family send me e-cards... they are usually deleted as quickly as junk mail with the subject "Seeking Enlargement Today?" Myspace creeps me out... Facebook is the web-based equivalent of "TMI" 24/7 (I really DONT care to see 112 photos of you at your cousins bat mitzvah or the candid shot of your war-weary face in the midst of child birth). And, perhaps most fervently of all... I always swore I would never, EVER have a blog.

And, yet, here we are.... the day of reckoning.

It all started when my good pal, the tech-savvy Jamie Debell (http://www.misstomaamblog.blogspot.com/), started her own little HTML diary. I found I enjoyed reading hers so much that I wondered if there was some value in the process. Mentioning this to my husband one night, fully expecting him to scoff at the whole blog community, I discovered that he too was already a blogger -- albeit, he had only been web-published for about a day(http://www.imsurebut.blogspot.com/). My brother... a blogger. My best friend from camp... a blogger. Suddenly, the wool was lifted from my eyes and I realized that I could be the last one on the planet to jump on board and give blogging a shot.

So, here it is -- My attempt at posting for the world (Or, more accurately, the 2-3 people that ever view this) my internal reflections. And, as a guide for the reader... my title states my intentions (modest, though they may be) with a more than likely emphasis on the latter.