I’ve long been teased for appearing to be of Oriental descent. I fit the (often wrong) stereotype: tiny, dark hair, and eyes that disappear into slits when I laugh.
The other day we were talking about iPods and I got to thinking about Josh’s that Pat and Jan gave me…and how it refuses to function. It keeps showing me a picture on the iPod of an iPod with a frowning face.
So, what does my iPod have to do with China? It’s the fact that a broken iPod is disposable. The only thing separating me from another one is a scant 2 or 300 dollars; NOT the fact that there are no more iPods being produced. The fact that this generation can easily run out and replace whatever is broken is a departure from the generations before us. Back then there were limited quantities. Now we are in an over-saturated market with very little concern of exhausting our resources, and we are losing our ability to place value on things.
And that idea made me think about people. Since when did we start buying into the notion that the people in our lives are disposable? The idea that we can use them, manipulate them, change the original way they came to us to fit our likes and dislikes, and can toss them aside when we’re done with them (should we lose them, break them, or just flat wear them out)? I’m afraid that the notion that everything we want in a person can be found in an Oriental Trading catalog – to fit our mood, our season, in a plethora of colors and more of them than we could ever want – has seeped in.
Do we REALLY value the people in our lives? I’m pretty sure there are no other Tina’s like me. I didn’t have a twin (even if I did, we’d have different personalities), there’s not a robot-version of me (I’m not a craaaazy Stepford wife) and I’m pretty sure if you got rid of me, there’d be a Tina-shaped hole in your life that no one, no matter how much better or worse then me they are, will fill.
This idea goes both ways. For example. I will forever have an Aaron shaped hole in my life. Even if and when I move on and find another relationship, he came into my life and changed the landscape of it – and his departure will leave a mark.
I occasionally feel non-existent or replaceable in other people’s lives, and I feel like my friendship is of so little value to some people that it and I can be tossed aside whenever I’m not performing right or being right or fitting their ideal; but what really saddens me is that I did those same things to him.
PAUSE
& HEAR ME NOW: I do not want him back. We didn’t work and that’s ok. What’s not ok is that I had this unrealistic man in mind. I was broken and even though I said I didn’t, I expected him to be the ideal. He couldn’t. I wanted to take the man and change him, beyond the line of what is normal. I wanted to tailor him to the catalog specifications. However, I couldn’t, and there’s only one of him.
Now. This too goes both ways. He replaced me in his life. When he was done with me he would move on to the next thing (and trust me, that list was lengthy). The little plastic toy that our relationship had become, the one that was picked up and put down with ease, is also the one that will leave a memory or two; hopefully some of them fond. I was remarkably dispensable but still left a hole because he allowed me into his life for relationship with him.
And so, I look at our broken relationship in which we each bear responsibility and at the other relationships in my life. How many more people am I doing the catalog search on, in which I order them as the product and then insist on changing them, instead of valuing their normalcy, their flaws, and their brokenness? How many people will I see as replaceable, and how many will leave a hole that I won’t even realize the size of until they are gone?
What in society has caused us to think this way? Why can’t we [all just get along] all just accept the people in our lives for who they are – even when they don’t know who they are? Why play games and try to change everyone and then toss them aside when they aren’t meeting our standards?
Why not do the following: give them room for their bad moods, their stress, their hurt and pain? Why not treat them like they are the only one (because they are) and cherish that while we have it? Why not cherish each relationship at whatever stage it’s at – because some will grow, but some will disappear? Why not stop looking at everyone as use for our selfish gain, our play-thing, our person to create and mold and instead simply commit to relationships, even when they SUCK?
If we are Christians, isn’t that what we’re taught to do anyways (in kinder, gentler words and with scripture notation)?
Why not embrace the real and the limited and value it like we know we should?
Maybe no one else in society thinks this way, and I’m just engaging in the classical game of transference. But, maybe not.
**Yeah – THIS mindset drives me CRAAAZY: The Onion’s New Device, Old Device
In keeping with Alice Roosevelt’s seminal (eewwww on the alternate definition of this word) quote of “if you haven’t got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me”, here is a gorgeous bit of prose discovered in Cornelia Read’s The Crazy School.
We couldn’t stand each other, but I hated her more. She was so shallow she couldn’t even dislike people properly.
In a decidedly listless week, these simple lines has brought me untold joy. I could absolutely buy Nora Charles tossing them off while consuming martinis in The Thin Man (If you haven’t seen The Thin Man, well shame on you, and I hope we can still be friends. It is the bee’s knees.) How Hemingwayesque is the structure here? Two sentences-straight, colloquial, to the point. Not bad for an ex-debutante with only two strange little thrillers under her belt.
And apropos of nothing, here are some of the best gin-soaked moments from Nick & Nora. Enjoy & happy Friday!
Sorry for my appalling lack of creativity these days-as best illustrated by the fact that I’m completely lifting this post idea from NPR. But this is the most languorous, gorgeous and yes, downright sexy arrangement of Gershwin’s Summertime you will ever set your ears to so I suggest you listen up. There are two ways to handle a muggy summer in the south: you can dream of Christmas and the cold weather to come or you can embrace the sultriness of it and enjoy the novelty of being able to wander around half-dressed, glistening with sweat. Days like this always put me in mind of Harper Lee’s passage from To Kill A Mockingbird.
I think Maggie from Tennessee William’s Cat On A Hot Tin Roof had the best coping strategy for summer in the south. Slink around in a gorgeous silk slip (with matching pumps, of course), imbibe copious amounts of Mint Juleps and sweet tea, and try to persuade Paul Newman to sleep with you. Smart girl, that one.
I received one of the best verbal spankings I’ve had in a while on Monday, courtesy of Sarah.
In talking to her we were discussing my favorite topic: Me and my amazing level of narcissism.
One of my all time favorite things to sheepishly say when I admit to being obnoxious is “LOVE ME”, which I threw out in the conversation.
Without missing a beat she replied “You do”.
It stung, but well done Sarah. Well done.
We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming of churchy musings, life as we know it, random references to Kings of Leon (Ha! Like right now. Did you see what I just did? That just happened!), and movies I’m dying to see to bring you this extra special bit of fabulousness from Sunday night’s Tony Awards. Yep, I know it’s all over the internet, but after watching it at least 28 times yesterday, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this never stops being funny. So I’m putting it here so I can watch it anytime I want.
You know, Bret’s right. It don’t get better than this. Alright, please continue.
“…I’m going so fast I can’t slow down” (California Waiting, Kings of Leon) yep, that’s how I feel around this time of year.
In regards to camp we move an extraordinary number of paper and online registration forms around. For the most part (insert laugh and giggle here) the online is easy; we just “dump” them into the database. Well, in my dream-world that happens….but my fantasy land is neither here nor there.
One of my favorite things (aside from the actual week of camp itself) is keying in the applications because people will tell you some of the most ridiculous things.
Below are a few of my favorites that made me chuckle while mindlessly keying in data for this week:
1. Parents: Jack & Diane. (If you don’t get why that made me smile you need a class in pop-culture; and this is coming from a chick who likes the Statler Bros)
2. When asked about a cabin mate request, a boy put a girl. Sorry that’s not the kind-of camp we run, although it might increase attendance if we did.
3. A child most definitely filled this out…”Allergic to: water melon and carrots”.
4. I just keyed in an entry with a child’s last name that when all the letters were lined up, I’m not sure it amounted to anything even pronounce-able (and I have room to talk, try growing up with Schwandt – which is the sound most people make when they sneeze). It looked something like this: schuxdqjikaprtbmcsa. Then to top it off, the kid uses his first, middle, and last name for his email address. Does he EVER get any email?
5. I’m not one to judge names because I don’t go by my real one and nobody trusts my abilities since I want to name a boy Fletch – but I do get sidetracked while keying in entries regarding interesting names. So far the winners are Drusilla and Kitty (in this day and age should anyone really go by this? Sadly it’s not the 1950′s anymore).
6. I enjoy finding that there are cities I never knew existed, such as: Birdsnest, Chuckatuck, Fishersville, Fort Defiance (now that I know about it, I think I live there most days), Ladysmith, Opal, Orange and Oyster (all very original), and Saltville (that same creativity carried over and they got ambitious by adding ‘ville’ to the end).
And for kicks and giggles, here are a few more of my favorite things:
(I hope the sarcasm is dripping through your screen on this small list of 4; Lord knows I was pouring it on pretty thick.)
YAY Camp: 30-some odd WORK DAYS away.
I’ll resurface from this office sometime in August.
Sunday was a particularly bad day for me, for reasons that really don’t need to be discussed. Just one of those days where nothing went right.
When I get that insanely overwhelmed feeling, like on Sunday, I tend to shut down; although I had the energy to throw myself the biggest pity party ever. Party of One.
I clean a church in my spare time, and while fussing to myself over life and somewhat just wanting to give up, I turned on my Christmas music (it’s usually the only thing that centers me) and decided to make a list the opposite of what I was feeling: Reasons Why the Past Year Hasn’t Sucked.
1. Through the counsel of friends, family, life itself and a good counselor, I’ve experienced more personal growth in a 2 year time span than in my entire life. I repeatedly hear “you’re not the same person you used to be.” In the beginning, when change was the hardest, I mourned the person I was. Now I’m content to never return.
2. My priorities in life have changed drastically. I had a calendar and self-made (impossible to reach) time line and goal list for my life. Some of the goals are still the same; however they’ve all changed places. That time line pushed me at a frenzied pace, but now the time line is gone. (Well, almost). I work to accomplish what I can minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. It’s amazing what that mindset will do if you worry – it virtually erases it.
3. I used to be an ‘island’. I did my best to toughen up and not let anyone else in; nor to depend on them. Now, honesty and vulnerability have come into my life. I didn’t realize that by not being those things to myself, I didn’t and couldn’t extend them to anyone else. Now those are the hallmarks of what I want out of relationships in my life.
4. Independence is a great thing. It gets a little scary (financially, loud unaccounted for noises, uncertainty for the future) but I’ve also seen that when it’s just me I can pull myself up and make it: mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. Being independent has also made me braver. When it comes down to sink or swim, you better learn to swim. Even if you didn’t know how before. One of my new life outlooks has become what mom used to tell me about vegetables: You don’t know until you TRY.
(Even though it seems like it contradicts #3, it doesn’t. Independence from one person frees you but we were made to exist in community.)
5. By allowing myself to accept life as it was with it’s immense amount of pain, I’ve come to see the flip side of that. Sinking to the lowest low makes the highest high that much more enjoyable. Before life was very one dimensional. Now I’m Tina in 3-D.
6. This one makes me cry every time I think about it: Every single thing that got taken away has been returned in some form or fashion. It doesn’t look like what I think I should, I can’t explain it, and I’m ok with both.
I have family that live in Louisville KY and every year my internal homing device starts sending out signals that it’s time for a visit. We used to go every year at Thanksgiving, and while the alarm is sounding quite loudly come November, it also sends out slightly weaker signals around May.
My grandfather was not saved for a majority of his life, and every year had a knack for picking the Kentucky Derby winner. In watching them parade around the track, he’d name the top runners for the first, second and third spots. Every freakin year he was dead on. As a kid I used to beg mom to take us to the track so we could make some money. At that point in my pentecostal life I hadn’t figured out why betting was wrong.
I’m not a fan of horses. I rode one at Reboot and it was slightly less than enjoyable. I know nothing about horses or racing, but none the less one of my dreams in life has been to attend the Preakness, Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes, in hopes of seeing a horse win the Triple Crown. (Other secret desires that are related: to have a mint julep, wear a big hat and sing My Old Kentucky Home while being in Kentucky).
My grandfather has since passed on, and with the Derby being held every Mother’s Day weekend (and it being her father who excelled at gambling) I tend to get a little nostalgic around this time of year.
Enough of the sensitive stuff. I am a Mental Floss junkie. This morning they had an article relating to the Derby, and more specifically for naming horses. No one trusts my naming abilities (since I want to name a boy Fletch) and I’ve always been intrigued with the names that fly around the track and make millions.
While reading about the restrictions in naming the horses (only 18 characters, including spaces and punctuation!) I read the following, and have laughed and laughed. Then laughed some more:
And so, I raise my Mint Julep (ahem…McD’s tea, I’m at work) to Mental Floss for the laugh, Kentucky for the beauty and the sport, Mother’s Day for the nostalgia, and my grandfather – who I wish I’d known better as a youngster…because it’s now that I’m beginning to see how cool he was.
I had had a couple of margaritas when I twittered this. I think maybe also I ran out to the parking lot like a child looking for Santa’s sleigh.
eric said there was a tiny nun in our parking lot, but she disappeared before i could see her. it’s a shame because i love nuns.
I truly wasn’t aware of my overwhelming fondness for nuns though until reading through my old twitters (I refuse to call them tweets because that just sounds stupid. Twitter is so much more sophisticated). On retrospect, the most delighted I have ever been was when I saw a vanload of nuns at a Rest Stop. So I guess I really do love nuns. And Hassidic Jews.
(ETA When you google image search “nun”, you mostly get sexy nun costumes. That’s just wrong.)
