Contrary to my beliefs

I realize it's a contradiction to love Californication and hate men that don't have their shit together.

That's all.

Conviction: a fixed or firm belief.

The other day I was out with some colleagues for lunch. It was a half day so we had a nice leisurely, beer included, midday meal. There were about five guys and five girls of varying ages. Because of the time of the year, the conversation among the men eventually turned to fantasy football teams. That got my boss started on her own son who is on his high school football team. That begot a conversation about players and the stories that were leading Sports Center the night before. That is when someone mentioned the name Brett Favre.

Now I am a Wisconsin girl, born and raised, and therefore am intrinsically tied to the Packers and the organization. My mother and her mother before her made sure to instill in me a deep commitment to this team when I was a very young girl. Honestly, it is the most committed relationship I have been in at this point in my life. What I mean by that is I was a fan during the Magic years. The Chris Jackie years. The years that every Chicago Cubs fan can sympathize are the worst years to love a team. The words fair weather don't exist in my vocabulary when it comes to football. You're either are a fan or you aren't, and I am.

I am not vocal about my relationship with the Packers to everyone, because I know that especially in the past few years due to my geographic location, I will be poked and prodded about my opinion. I also know that I can often times sounds like a psychotic crazed maniac that has an irrational emotional connection the team. Yes, I will admit that upfront. I also will admit that I'm not the most educated when it comes to sports or when it comes to the franchise. However, I am a passionate person when it comes to my team even if I don't know what I am talking about. You would be too after 26 years of ups and downs.

I digress. At this particular luncheon, I was asked for my opinion. I don't remember who the guilty person was, but someone asked what I thought about all this Brett Favre business. The table got quiet and everyone looked at me. My work partner mumbled under her breath "Oh here we go."

So with everyone listening I stated by opinion calmly. In summary what I said went something like this, "I think he is a jackass." Now normally if there are other Packer fans at the table I would expect a lively debate about the subject after a comment like that. However, I was with a bunch of people from Detroit and Chicago and not a single person had an investment in this man or my team. However, everyone had an opinion, even my soft spoken partner.

It's fine to have an opinion, even though you are wrong. But here is the thing. Don't compare him to Michael Jordan. Don't compare him to Joe Montana. This is different, and I made sure they knew I thought so. In what I am sure the others would describe as a 20 minute diatribe, I explained in great detail how Brett Favre broke my heart. They all made arguments that probably made complete sense, but when you are talking to someone who is blinded by their passion and anger about something, it is futile.

I digress again. I do that.

My point is. I always thought that I was one of those people who was sort of passionless when it comes to activities, events, music and a long list of other things. I mean I enjoy things, but I don't have a whole lot of conviction when it comes to specific things. I guess at the end of the lunch when I got up and walked home, I thought about what had just happened. I literally sat at a table of my peers, soap boxed the hell out of the situation and felt good about it. Having been one of those people who has filled out 26 years of surveys that included the words, list your favorite activities or things you can't live without, with a level of indifference, Brett Favre made me realize that I do have conviction. So if nothing else I can thank him for reminding me that I do have a fixed or firm belief in some things and it only just starts at the quarterback position.

Happy. Simply.

I am just happy. There is no one thing, person or event that has caused this happiness. It is almost empty but in a glorious way. I am simply happy. I can't remember the last time that happened. The kind of happy that has you smiling for no reason. Acting goofier than an adult is supposed to (especially in her office). Singing along with a song on the bus and not realizing til it's too late happy. (Sorry to the two others in the back of the 33Express this morning) It is basic. Reptilian even. Like this morning my DNA decided to wake up on the right side of the bed. My contacts had morphed into rose colored lenses. This is unusual.

Don't get me wrong I am not a person prone to fits of depression. I have my moments of course. I am female, after all. My hormones are often out of my control. But I am not about to write a personal edit of The Bell Jar. I am just a realistic, idealistic, hopeless romantic, pragmatic, imagination activated female and those personality traits don't usually result in a life soundtrack that includes heavy play of "I'm Walking on Sunshine". Sure it's in there every once in a while...but my mixed tape is pretty light on the 80's pop. Except when I was a child and that is all I heard. Wild Wild West and Whitney Houston. Now that was great. Sort of like today. It was just great, and I am going to do everything in my power to just enjoy it. No questions, no answers, just a smile on my face and the faint sound of a synthesizer in my ears.

I am not a cutter.

But Jesus Christ. Cinnamon gum tears my tongue up...I swear to God. It hurts and not in the good way. The crystals or flavor bursts, or whatever they are are like shards of glass that not only cut but then they sting. It is like giving yourself a paper cut on your tongue and then rubbing something directly in the cut right afterwards. Just like Ricky Bobby says. Fuck Big Red....or something like that.

Ouch.

Seasonique.

If there is no medical reason for a woman to her special time, according to the Seasonique commercials, then why is having it four times a year that great? They basically say you don't have to have one at all. That makes the four times a year seem pretty inconvenient.

Advantages of the purse

If your guy gets an attitude or acts like an asshole, there is a good chance that carrying a purse means his car keys are inside it.

Hate the Game not the players...

How can you hate the players when the game clearly works. When you ignore someone, suddenly they pay attention. When you are available, suddenly they are no where to be found...and with today's technology that is quite a feat. You can't hate the players, bad or good. It's the game that causes tears, sleepless nights, and broken hearts. Hate the game people. Hate the game.

Eavesdropping

It’s my favorite thing to do, next to people watching. The best part is eavesdropping and people watching go hand in hand. The thing is...I am starting to do it with my own group of friends. Which, to be honest is a bit awkward when I am trying to be engaged with the new group. For example, lately I have found myself restless in social situations, which is very unlike me. I can be having a perfectly nice conversation with someone, and I find myself eavesdropping on the conversation next to me. How can I expect to get to know anybody if I don’t listen to anyone? I used to pride myself in listening, and now I can’t seem to focus. It’s like I have a hierarchy of people I want to get to know, and if I am spending time talking to one person, but a person higher up on the list is sitting next to me talking to someone else, I try and wiggle my way into their conversation. It’s ridiculous and disingenuous. Being new to a group is not easy for me, but I should know you can’t become part of a group’s history over night, or ever...really. It is too difficult. All you can do is keep hanging around, creating your own memories with people. Eventually, you are part of the group by default. I just need to recognize that I can’t listen to or rank my way into a group of people. I just need to be myself and the rest will come. God knows it has already gotten a lot better. It just takes time.

Entitlement

I was listening to an NPR broadcast the other day and someone had done a piece on the young generation, that I guess I am considered a part of, and how we were born and socialized to believe we are entitled to certain things, no questions asked. They were using examples with the context of higher education. A younger professor was getting a lot heat from students and parents alike for his grading system. Students thought that if they did all the required reading and attended classes on a regular basis, they should receive an A. The teacher argued these were the requirements for the class, resulting in a C. C is average and when you do just the required elements, students shouldn't be rewarded with a higher grade.

When I thought about it, that is totally true. When I was in school I was always disappointed when I wasn't given an A for what I thought was a good effort. The thing is, I am not sure there are still those students who ask for extra credit, or even know what or how to go above and beyond what is in the curriculum. I don't even know that grades are packaged that way anymore. I don't think packaged is the right word... but you know what I mean. I was a 3.5 GPA in college and I don't know that I did more than I thought I needed to do for those grades. The thing is I also studied abroad in college and my GPA suffered for my semester overseas. I wonder if it is not only a generational thing, but a ethnocentric thing as well.

However, I was conflicted because I did agree with the teacher. As a rule of thumb, in life, rewards come when they are earned. They shouldn't come because they are expected. However, with the first year of my professional career behind me and no ladder climbing to speak of... I am starting to wonder if I feel like I have done more than I have, and I in fact haven't done enough. I don't by any means think I am entitled to a pay raise or a title bump if I haven't earned it. I wonder what grade I am getting?

My generation, generally speaking, does have an entitlement problem. I am just not sure we can be broken of it like biting our nails or smoking. Sex within the first few dates seems to be an expectation. Higher salaries starting out seems to be an expectation. Cars at 16, affordable health care, student loans...all of it. Fill out a form and you shall receive. I wonder how this will affect the world when our generation starts having kids. Will we instill the same expectations to them, or start the pendulum swinging the other way?

Love Hurts

I have on many occasions said that I get irrationally involved in things that take place on stages and screens, but it has recently come to my attention that the feeling I long for more than any in the world is to be in pain. Not real physical pain, but the pain that comes from being hurt by someone you care about so much, that you feel like you are dying inside. I know this feeling has been over romanticized by the medium aforementioned...but the thing is... it's also real. I have felt it before in my teens and my twenties and for some masochistic reason, I want to feel it again. There is something pure and unabated about the desperation that cannot be replicated by other heart-wrenching events. It is vulnerability and strength. It is control and the loss of it. It is beautiful.

Yawning

A friend of mine told me her theory on why yawning is contagious and I think it is the best one I have heard yet.

People by nature are selfish or at least survivalists. When you see someone yawning, your brain registers it as someone else stealing the air you are breathing. So it is an involuntary reaction to try and get it back.

Makes total sense to me.

T-shirt.

I think someone at threadless or palmer's cash or whoever makes t-shirts soon have ones that talk about the economy.

My best idea so far.

I'll stimulate your package.

Gross. I know.