It's Saint Patrick's Day. And I am in a terrific mood. Yes, it's a Monday morning and it's much colder than I would prefer. But I'm smiling. I went to the temple this morning, I'm healthy and happy...
I don't know how to explain the tendency we have (myself included) to dwell on the negative in blog posts. Perhaps this is the perfect outlet for venting. Perhaps we're all just more negative than we should be. I don't know. But I'd like to be positive here today...
I am so happy to be a student at a university studying something I love. I am so grateful that I can wake up happy every morning and excited to go to class. I'm grateful that I live a life that is grounded in the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and that I have that anchor to hold me strong through the storms of life. I'm grateful for friends who wish I wasn't always at rehearsal and for a family that misses me when I'm gone. I'm so glad that I live in this nation of peace and prosperity (relatively speaking, of course) where we are in a position to lift and assist others less fortunate than we. (Not a comment on current foreign affairs, mind you.) I'm happy to have a body that (usually) does what it's supposed to and access to medical care to fix it when it doesn't. I'm happy to have new couches in my apartment that I like even more than my own bed and the ceramic horse that guards us against evil spirits and vicious thieves. And I'm happy that my roommate went on a strange rampage last night securing all our windows and doors from potential break-ins. He cracks me up sometime...
In short, life is good. Let's all smile. And wear green today. Or I'll probably punch you. What a wonderful day...
Monday, March 17, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Running
I went for a a run. A jog. No, I'm not speaking metaphorically. I mean, I put on my sweats, grabbed my iPod, and hit the streets. Surprised? Me too.
I got back from my mission a year ago. Most people close to me know the story: I came home early, tried to get healthy, got no definitive diagnosis, and ended up being released after about four months of limbo. (See the "A Personal Essay" post for more insight into the delightful story...) I've clawed my way up from that demoralizing position over the last year and am happy with where I am in life. Things are going well. Much better than last year, at least. But my mysterious "condition" still holds me hostage, so to speak.
I am incapable of exercising for any period of time because of, well, complicated medical issues that I don't really want to go into. I've been seeing a lot of furrowed brows and hearing a lot of I-don't-knows in doctors' offices for the past year and have all but given up on the hope that the medical community could possibly offer me any answers. I've wondered if I'll have to resign myself to an inactive lifestyle for the rest of my days. Life is going well, but this particular situation was looking bleaker than ever.
Then I realized: I am not powerless! I alone have control over my body and I'm going to get back to normal or die trying. I'm not going to sit back and shrug off missed opportunities and deflated self-esteem due to some unquantifiable disorder that has baffled the best medical minds of Brazil, Sacramento, and Provo. If I can't nurse my body back into health, I'll beat it into submission. So, I went running. The run was short distance-wise but took a pretty long time, I must say. I only threw up a little and despite the clutching my side and gasping for air, I felt like the strongest man alive when I arrived again at my doorstep. Yeah, it sucks. But I'll do it tomorrow. For longer. And the next day. And the next.
I want my life back.
I got back from my mission a year ago. Most people close to me know the story: I came home early, tried to get healthy, got no definitive diagnosis, and ended up being released after about four months of limbo. (See the "A Personal Essay" post for more insight into the delightful story...) I've clawed my way up from that demoralizing position over the last year and am happy with where I am in life. Things are going well. Much better than last year, at least. But my mysterious "condition" still holds me hostage, so to speak.
I am incapable of exercising for any period of time because of, well, complicated medical issues that I don't really want to go into. I've been seeing a lot of furrowed brows and hearing a lot of I-don't-knows in doctors' offices for the past year and have all but given up on the hope that the medical community could possibly offer me any answers. I've wondered if I'll have to resign myself to an inactive lifestyle for the rest of my days. Life is going well, but this particular situation was looking bleaker than ever.
Then I realized: I am not powerless! I alone have control over my body and I'm going to get back to normal or die trying. I'm not going to sit back and shrug off missed opportunities and deflated self-esteem due to some unquantifiable disorder that has baffled the best medical minds of Brazil, Sacramento, and Provo. If I can't nurse my body back into health, I'll beat it into submission. So, I went running. The run was short distance-wise but took a pretty long time, I must say. I only threw up a little and despite the clutching my side and gasping for air, I felt like the strongest man alive when I arrived again at my doorstep. Yeah, it sucks. But I'll do it tomorrow. For longer. And the next day. And the next.
I want my life back.
In defense of men
Heard in Fast and Testimony Meeting:
“We men, we’re idiots. The women are smart and spiritual and have it all together. They condescend to be with us and I’m grateful for that. We men really don’t have anything going for us and there’s no way we could ever deserve our wives.”
Heard at work:
“The I.Q. of the room gets lower with every additional man who comes in.”
Heard in class:
“You can’t blame him. I mean, he’s a guy. Of course he’s stupid. What do you expect?”
Yes. They’re for real. You have undoubtedly heard the same kind of statements. And yes, all of these come from the mouths of modern, American, Mormon men. What do we learn from these astonishing remarks? (Other than the fact that I’m strange and compulsively write down the conversations of those around me…Beware!) That there is a vicious and destructive tendency toward the demoralization of men. To put it plainly: sexism.
What astonishes me, though, that this discrimination seems to be perpetuated principally by the men. Sure, “man hating” women may spout off similar slander, but I think we see more often than not that men continue to demean themselves. It is, as the king of Siam would say, a puzzlement.
Perhaps this tend comes from the “reparations phenomenon,” the idea that men, having subjected women to thousands of years of discrimination, oppression, and general inequality, that somehow equality will be achieved by turning the tables and allowing the men to become the punching bags. We see this idea manifest in many forms, notably the prevalence of “white guy” jokes in the media. If this were truly the cause I could let it roll off my back. If this reversal is what it will take to develop true gender equality I can let things like “According to Jim” go. However, I’m not convinced this is the case. First of all, the idea that further polarization will help us live together in peace is flawed in logic. Second, this “anti-male” sentiment is so widely embraced and actively furthered by the “victims” of its claims. And third, when it comes down to it, it isn’t the women, but the men, who benefit in the long run from this widely-circulated myth.
What’s to be gained by a man who undercuts the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual capacities of his sex as a whole? A great deal of slack. Though few would admit it, the “I’m a guy” line is something of a cure-all for a lot of women. Why even try to communicate with your girlfriend when the simple fact that you’re a guy and the admission of that simple fact will make any oversight okay? Why try to live a Christlike life when we can sit in Elders’ quorum and muse on how inferior we are to the Relief Society sisters and how hopeless it is to try and measure up? Sure you’ve got to swallow your pride for a moment but that’s a small price to pay for the universal antidote you’ve been given courtesy of the genetic lottery you won as soon as the doctor said “It’s a boy.”
Nowhere are we taught superiority or inferiority of one sex over another. No verse of scripture or discourse of modern prophets or apostles even hints at the fact that some of God’s children are better or worse than others based on gender. Different? Yes. Better? Absolutely not. Sorry to burst your bubble, my fellow “insensitive,” “forgetful,” “negligent” men. But the time for excuses is over. Let’s live up to what we as PEOPLE are capable of.
“We men, we’re idiots. The women are smart and spiritual and have it all together. They condescend to be with us and I’m grateful for that. We men really don’t have anything going for us and there’s no way we could ever deserve our wives.”
Heard at work:
“The I.Q. of the room gets lower with every additional man who comes in.”
Heard in class:
“You can’t blame him. I mean, he’s a guy. Of course he’s stupid. What do you expect?”
Yes. They’re for real. You have undoubtedly heard the same kind of statements. And yes, all of these come from the mouths of modern, American, Mormon men. What do we learn from these astonishing remarks? (Other than the fact that I’m strange and compulsively write down the conversations of those around me…Beware!) That there is a vicious and destructive tendency toward the demoralization of men. To put it plainly: sexism.
What astonishes me, though, that this discrimination seems to be perpetuated principally by the men. Sure, “man hating” women may spout off similar slander, but I think we see more often than not that men continue to demean themselves. It is, as the king of Siam would say, a puzzlement.
Perhaps this tend comes from the “reparations phenomenon,” the idea that men, having subjected women to thousands of years of discrimination, oppression, and general inequality, that somehow equality will be achieved by turning the tables and allowing the men to become the punching bags. We see this idea manifest in many forms, notably the prevalence of “white guy” jokes in the media. If this were truly the cause I could let it roll off my back. If this reversal is what it will take to develop true gender equality I can let things like “According to Jim” go. However, I’m not convinced this is the case. First of all, the idea that further polarization will help us live together in peace is flawed in logic. Second, this “anti-male” sentiment is so widely embraced and actively furthered by the “victims” of its claims. And third, when it comes down to it, it isn’t the women, but the men, who benefit in the long run from this widely-circulated myth.
What’s to be gained by a man who undercuts the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual capacities of his sex as a whole? A great deal of slack. Though few would admit it, the “I’m a guy” line is something of a cure-all for a lot of women. Why even try to communicate with your girlfriend when the simple fact that you’re a guy and the admission of that simple fact will make any oversight okay? Why try to live a Christlike life when we can sit in Elders’ quorum and muse on how inferior we are to the Relief Society sisters and how hopeless it is to try and measure up? Sure you’ve got to swallow your pride for a moment but that’s a small price to pay for the universal antidote you’ve been given courtesy of the genetic lottery you won as soon as the doctor said “It’s a boy.”
Nowhere are we taught superiority or inferiority of one sex over another. No verse of scripture or discourse of modern prophets or apostles even hints at the fact that some of God’s children are better or worse than others based on gender. Different? Yes. Better? Absolutely not. Sorry to burst your bubble, my fellow “insensitive,” “forgetful,” “negligent” men. But the time for excuses is over. Let’s live up to what we as PEOPLE are capable of.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Reeee-JEC-ted!
I just got rejected. Yeah, it happens. A friend of mine was sitting on the slab within listening distance and undoubtedly paid rapt attention to the whole conversation. Had I been in her position, I would have cringed for a second then quickly reached for my moleskine notebook and written down the whole ordeal. It would have ended up in one of the "romance is ridiculous" plays I so enjoy writing and I would have laughed at the high drama so readily found in every corner of the HFAC.
It sucks to get shut down. That doesn't really need to be said. In the last month I've suffered two pretty major disappointments in the relationship arena. I don't say this to complain; like I said, it happens. The two situations were pretty different and my reaction surprised me to be honest. The first girl had been sending all the right signals and all signs pointed to yes. It was about to the point when I was going to embark on the inevitable DTR when she pulled a u-turn and sent the message loud and clear that she wasn't as interested as she had let on. I suppose at one point the idea to act like a child and blow me off seemed like a good way to "let me down easy" but somewhere along the way it got lost in translation. On the upside, the whole ordeal made her entirely unattractive and, thus, pretty easy to "get over." Obnoxious, yes. But heartbreaking? Not so much.
I wouldn't say I'm "heartbroken" right now. Just...disheartened. The second girl also was sending all the right signals. More so than perhaps any other girl I've taken on a first date. Somewhere along the line between then and now, though, she changed her mind. I asked her out a few minutes ago and she was very frank and honest about her lack of interest. I smiled and told her we should just hang out sometime then. As friends. She smiled in response and we left it on a good note. Or so she thought. My friend sitting five feet away certainly had a pretty good idea of the hurt behind the cordial acceptance of defeat. But what else could I do, right? The funny thing is how much more it sucked this time. I couldn't hide behind the frustration, irritation, and dismissal of the ridiculous behavior I met with the last girl. This time there really wasn't anything to cushion the painful realization of one more "no" to add to the pile. Okay, it was ONE DATE. It really shouldn't matter this much. And it isn't the shattering blow I may have made it out to be. It just sucks. I'm grateful though for a mature girl who's classy enough to come right out and say what's going on. No games. No manipulation. Just plain unadorned rejection. And to think I said I would prefer it this way...
It sucks to get shut down. That doesn't really need to be said. In the last month I've suffered two pretty major disappointments in the relationship arena. I don't say this to complain; like I said, it happens. The two situations were pretty different and my reaction surprised me to be honest. The first girl had been sending all the right signals and all signs pointed to yes. It was about to the point when I was going to embark on the inevitable DTR when she pulled a u-turn and sent the message loud and clear that she wasn't as interested as she had let on. I suppose at one point the idea to act like a child and blow me off seemed like a good way to "let me down easy" but somewhere along the way it got lost in translation. On the upside, the whole ordeal made her entirely unattractive and, thus, pretty easy to "get over." Obnoxious, yes. But heartbreaking? Not so much.
I wouldn't say I'm "heartbroken" right now. Just...disheartened. The second girl also was sending all the right signals. More so than perhaps any other girl I've taken on a first date. Somewhere along the line between then and now, though, she changed her mind. I asked her out a few minutes ago and she was very frank and honest about her lack of interest. I smiled and told her we should just hang out sometime then. As friends. She smiled in response and we left it on a good note. Or so she thought. My friend sitting five feet away certainly had a pretty good idea of the hurt behind the cordial acceptance of defeat. But what else could I do, right? The funny thing is how much more it sucked this time. I couldn't hide behind the frustration, irritation, and dismissal of the ridiculous behavior I met with the last girl. This time there really wasn't anything to cushion the painful realization of one more "no" to add to the pile. Okay, it was ONE DATE. It really shouldn't matter this much. And it isn't the shattering blow I may have made it out to be. It just sucks. I'm grateful though for a mature girl who's classy enough to come right out and say what's going on. No games. No manipulation. Just plain unadorned rejection. And to think I said I would prefer it this way...
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