A list, Part 1

The following things are no longer available to write songs about:

1. Loving someone whom is either a) unavailable b) not interested 

2. Reflections on a relationship which has passed and your feelings on it.

3. Inebriated reflections on a better time.

4. Loving someone to the point it becomes painful.

5. The following personal effects: blue jeans, boots, ponytails, trucks. 

6. Love being painful and/or making you crazy.

7. Quantification the degrees of "over" you are a person or situation.

8. Overt celebration of personal independence.

9. Living in a sparsely populated area v. living in a densely populated area.

10. How the Holy Trinity factors into your personal decision making process.

11. Having the most of the following things: chains, women, cars, homes or boats. 

12. Experiences with the following situations: being country, tailgates, being a VIP, being the apex of attention on a dance floor.

13. Personal experience with being over served by a bartender.

14. Women doing the following things: drinking wine, doing shots of tequila or overly elaborate girls' nights. 

15. Men doing the following things: Drinking beer, watching football, discussing their adolescent greatness. 

16. Celestial comparisons to ocular vesteges.

17. Any discussions of locations for begging, i.e., on one's knees.

18. Not being able to understand/control one's own emotions.

19. Precipitation and it's place in your life.

20. Your evening activities, when they start, when they end and the locations in which they take place. 

Thank You, 

The Management. 

Definition

The Sly Kitten and I exchanged back and forth texts today regarding the differing definitions of "inure" based on if you are utilizing the verb transitively or intransitively. The definitions vary based on if there is an object involved. The word appeared in my personal statement for my grad school applications, due largely to the Kitten's helpful editing. 

It is somewhat amazing how the same word can hold such different meanings. Transitively, to inure means to become accustomed too. Children in war torn countries are inured to violence. Intransitively, inure is an additional benefit. My masters degree will inure me to a potential employer. 

This, as well as an ongoing dialog with Spicy, has me thinking about privilege. More specifically, the discussion of "white privilege", which is a nasty little reality that so many of my fellow caucasians are anxious too absolve themselves of. 

White privilege rarely comes up as a topic without a significant response. Often, it's almost a knee jerk reaction for a white person to quickly indemnify themselves and explain the lack of privilege in their life. 

"I've worked for everything I have."

"No one has given me anything." 

Quick rebuttals intended to clearly show that they do not come from a privileged background. (Often implied in this conversation is "If I did it, so can anyone else."...but thats for another conversation.)

However, much like differing definitions of inure, privilege has differing definitions based on it's intended use. 

In the case of white privilege, it's not a discussion of a white person's work ethic or contributions to their own success. Discussing white privilege does not trivialize your moral character. 

In reality, white privilege has NOTHING to do with you, personally. 

White privilege is not being born rich or poor, with advantages or without. It's not about being able to attend college or needing to go directly into the work force. White privilege has nothing to do with possessions or lifestyle. 

It's about life. It's about making the assumption that someone is dangerous based on their skin color. It's about assuming that, upon being pulled over, a white man reaching to his glove compartment is looking for his registration and a black man is looking for his gun. (To quote Jay-Z, "are you carrying a weapon, I know a lot of you are.) It's to assume that a black child does not have two involved and caring parents or that the black woman who just entered your store is attempting to steal from you. 

No one checks their door locks when I walk by or stiffens through their shoulders and ensures that their purse is closed when I walk by. A cop is highly unlikely to assume that I'm a threat upon pulling me over. No one sees me moving into a new home and thinks "A single girl in her 30's? There goes the neighborhood." 

Stretch your vocabulary to allow for different definitions of "privilege".  Accepting that there are different definitions of the word does not negate the life you have built for yourself. It does not denigrate the obstacles you have overcome and certainly does not imply that you "had it easy." Accepting that there is a bias does not take away from your struggles. It simply acknowledges a different struggle. 

And let's not inure another generation of children to the bias of today.

Stuff I think is stupid, Vol 1 : Naming your kids stupid shit

Yeah, I get it. Everyone gets to name their kid what they want...yep...with you there. However, this does not mean that your choices in names does not leave you open for ridicule. 

The trend seems two fold, either name your kid something that sounds like an old New England last name (Grayson, Easton, Flanner, etc) or name your kid something and spell it in some obscure fashion. 

What ever happened to normal names? I'm all for originality and by own admission, cannot not stand my own first name. I'll also admit that my generation had A LOT of Jennifers, Ashleys, etc. However, if you look at the rosters for your average pre-school class, it's as though everyone is trying to be unique with their name choice and arrived at EXACTLY THE SAME NAME. I know 4 Graysons under 4 alone...

So let's talk about this, where are the Laurens? The Elizabeths? Can I get a Sarah up in here? A Jessica to save my soul?

I feel for these "eclectically" named children, for life will always be tough for them. Moxie is very cute for a 5 year old, but might be a little hard to run a boardroom with. Granted, if the child is going to run a boardroom, she's going to need some Moxie, but teaching her to have and giving her the name are different things entirely. 

There are also names that are just ugly. Certain names where, when introduced to their child I think "gosh, I'd name my kid that IF ALL THE OTHER NAMES IN THE WORLD WERE ALREADY TAKEN." Poor kids, life will always be tough. 

I pity the kids who are named for a character in a movie or a tv show, but at least they will always be able to say "well, mom was a really big True Blood fan." or "my dad really liked Game of Thrones" as sad as that may be. But the poor kids name after luxury items, I'm looking at you Lexus and Porsche...you poor little darlings. 

And then there are the special parents who name their children a seemingly normal name, but spell it with either a useless consonant or with a unique twist which ensures they will spend their ENTIRE LIFE spelling their name out for people. "It's Jessica, but with a K. Jessika" or the poor kid with the misfortune to be named Jaxson. 

One day, all the Graysons,  Eatons, Jessika and Jaxson's are going to go on their 8th grade trip to Washington DC and find themselves with their "spending money" at one of those schlock shops where you can buy a shot glass or a license plate with their name on it. 

And not one of these dear angels will be able to purchase one. While all the kids named Ryan or Jennifer or even Bethany will be able to choose between personalized items, poor Easton will be depressed and empty handed. 

And poor Moxie, she won't even be able to find something to buy. 

in case you don't feel lousy enough...

I've spent upwards of 6 hours on the phone with the Illinois Department of Employment Security; and for all that effort I don't feel any more secure. 

I feel like if I call back in 2 hours, it will be a different reason that they have been holding up my benefits for 5 weeks. A different thing I need to send them. 

And a different person who is going to be rude to me. 

Today was a breaking point, as when I called last week I was told a very specific document to send them, which I did. Today, I was told that the envelope and cover letter were scanned into my file. However, inexplicably, the actual document was not. 

As he was telling me that I would now need to FAX it to this different number and that it would take another week have it reviewed, approved and have the funds released. 

Another week? I melted into the rug in my bedroom. 

How is this reasonable and justified? How is this okay? How in the mother-effing world does someone expect you to a) live for 5 weeks without any money b)know the in's and out's of unemployment laws and c)spend hours upon hours of time on hold asking questions, when every time to you to a live person, there is a different answer?

I'm so fucking frustrated. I feel so defeated. I'm angry about this situation, chiefly, that I am in it in the first place, but then that the situation is so fucked up. I'm also so frustrated trying to figure out what to do next, where to go with my life.

So just incase I didn't feel awful enough, someone i've never met is telling me what I've done wrong. 

Makes me hate people. 

A wretch like me.

As violence unfolded last week, one of the first things I did was text Spicy and check in with her.

For all her "Spicy-ness" she's a tender soul and I knew that whatever emotions I was having, she was having more of them. She's a black girl raising a black girl. It was hard enough for me to verbalize my feelings, much less verbalize them and give them context and meaning and understanding from parent to child. 

And really, how do you explain racism to a little girl?I can't even explain it to myself. 

In the midst of our text conversation, Spice invited me to join her and her daughter at church on Sunday. 

My first thought? As a Catholic, we don't call it an obligation for nothin...and I like my Sunday morning sleep. But as soon as I was thinking about logical ways to politely decline, I thought, "here I am, trying to understand, to do better and be better...and someone is presenting me with an opportunity to do that."

...and I realized so amount of Sunday morning sleep was more worthwhile than Sunday morning in Church with Spicy. 

I think I could end up converting. 

Culturally, Black people talk an awful lot more about being blessed. My black friends are a lot quicker to give glory to God and talk about praise. 

I realize that not every Black American attends the same church, or worships in the same way. I understand that they are as diverse as Caucasians and worship as diversely. 

However, in my experience, I think I'd talk a lot more about #blessed, if I spent a lot more time in a pew with Spicy. It's freaking joyful. Black Americans were under fire this week, literally and figuratively, yet I sat in a building with 300 or so people, on the south side of Chicago and felt not only their pain, but their genuine joy. 

Full disclosure, it's pretty hard to not feel joyful while you are clapping your hands and singing along with the full band, the 50 or so choir members and a choir director that I could best describe as "Jesus's Hype Man". 

And to think that we Catholics tend to feel progressive with an acoustic guitar at a Saturday night Mass!

However, for all these blessings and all this praise, I was certainly the palest face in the audience. Of that I was hyper aware of. This is not to say that in my almost decade of friendship with Spicy, I haven't found myself as the representative Caucasian in any number of situations. 

However, this was a new feeling. Bringing someone to worship with you is a very personal experience. I realized at one point that it took more faith for Spicy to bring me to her church than for me to go. That's a humbling thought in to have in the midst of 300 people who have watched their culture and their race be torn apart on the Nightly News as recently as the day before. 

However, for as hyper aware of it I was, I doubt that half the people in the room noticed the shiny white face, blonde hair and blue eyes that sat among them. These people have serious things to pray for and not among them is "I hope this White person feels welcome." They made me feel welcome by making me feel ordinary. 

Having spent most of my adult life as a Catholic, I'm used to a very regimented service and using the bulletin to know what Catholic business are in the area. 

The Pastor chucking the script because his people needed individually prayed over, is somewhat out of my religious reality. Watching him move around the room, praying over his congregation personally, often by name, was humbling. I thought back to my early 20s when my Mass buddy and I would make bets on how long communion would take. Loser had to buy dinner. 

In the honest message that he delivered without a script and from the heart that followed, the pain and confusion of the world was evident. He addressed his people truthfully, with humility and admitted that he might not have all the answers. He stood before his congregation and admitted he was only human. That he felt anger and rage at situations. That he had felt devalued and vulnerable out in the world. That sometimes he lacked understanding. 

He acknowledged the anger his community had and validated it, but asked them to look for a broader perspective. He agreed with them that it's so easy to be furious and that they had a right to be, but pleaded for a greater understand and for the Black community to propagate it. 

In other words, he lead.

I felt the palpable pain of a room full of people, but felt their hope as well. In the midst of sadness, they prayed for love.

Without intention, they prayed for a wretch like me. 

We are no so different. We are not so the same, but we are not so different. 

Manners my mother didn't teach me...

Religion and politics are best kept out of polite company...or so we are told from the time we are old enough to have polite company. 

Keep controversy out of it. 

...and we do...for the most part...because as Ron White so famously stated in a comedy routine, "You can't fix stupid."

Which often means that we let stupid go on rants in living rooms and backyards around the country, while educated and thoughtful people sit quietly, realizing that they cannot, conceptually, change a moron. 

We've all done it. Let the person with the worst ideas and the loudest voice rant until someone pipes up at a downbeat in conversation, "So, do you think the Cubs will win the pennant this year?" (Or if you are the granddaughter of Eleanor, "Do you think the rain will hurt the rhubarb?")

We change the topic. We move on and hope that the person doing the speaking will get the hint.

The trouble is, silence is often confused with agreement. We change the topic and move as quickly as possible to a banal and meaningless topic. 

Sports, the weather, a movie, puppies, kittens...unicorns. 

ANYTHING which will get us past the uncomfortable conversation. 

This week, seven different times, someone took their last breath because, as a whole, we are a nation of people avoiding uncomfortable conversations. 

We've muzzled ourselves in the name of manners and in the meantime let intolerant and dangerous viewpoints to take centerstage. 

I'm still in the process of assessing my feelings about this week and working through the notions of my own privilege v. the notion that I'm muzzling my own voice on matters I care deeply about. I'll get back to that in another time. 

This week, as the bodies of 7 people grew cold, I thought about the muzzle I have put on myself and realized that if there is to be change, it's not going to be one huge sweeping change. We are not building an arc in preparation of 40 days and 40 nights of rain. 

Change will be minute, possibly unnoticed differences that average nobodies, like me, make. Change will be found in the small things we do differently and how those small differences add up. A penny's worth of change will eventually add up to a dollar...and from there...

So tonight, for the first time, I challenged polite company. At a gathering in which I knew no one but my friend who had invited me, the conversation went political and in the midst of a conversation over immigration, this weeks violence came up. 

I, who have sat quietly so many times and waiting for the conversation to change, stood up...quietly, as I did not want to make a scene, I stated, "I'm sorry, we can debate safe borders forever, but I cannot let you continue discussing this weekend violence without speaking up."

I did not raise my voice, I did not "fight fire with fire" and it was hard. Difficult because I wanted to take him down and expose him for the uninformed racist he appears to be, difficult because I was afraid that I was causing controversy in an unknown situation. 

But yet, confident in the knowledge that this small change was important to me. 

With an even tone I corrected his information. Politely, I let him know that the information he was referencing had been disproved. Respectfully, I told him that, I, indeed feel strongly that Black Lives Matter, but not because I feel that other lives do not matter. Indeed, because all lives matter, Black Lives have to matter as well...and right now, the universe is showing us in brilliant definition, that we have failed to reinforce that Black Lives Matter. 

We must do better. Skin color is NOT a weapon. A black mother should not be required to teach her child to be polite, respectful and stay alive. No mother should have to teach their child to keep their hands visible at all times, in the event of a brush with enforcement. 

Today, I made a small change and challenged the loudest voice in the room. Today, I utilized the privilege that I have been born into and challenged tacit agreement. Today, I did not change the conversation by discussing the weather, but rather by raising my voice in peaceful defiance. 

Today, I made a minute change and quietly hoped for a better tomorrow. 

Can we just STOP now?

If I unfriended everyone on my friend list who's posts I have found irritating lately, I'd have very few friends left. Emcee and the Kitten I find mostly entertaining or thoughtful, but half my friend list seems to have the intellectual capacity of a potato. 

There are some very scary things happening the world right now and we would all do well to slow our rolls a little and spend a little more time thinking and a little less time raising our particular flags. As a nation, I'd like to put us in time out. 

My first political memory is a Republican one. Putting "Reagan Round-Up" stickers on my bike back in '84. I voted for Bush, both times and while there were things I didn't agree with, I never doubted that, even misguided, he was doing everything with the best of intentions. Unfortunately, the best of intentions sometimes don't amount to a hill of beans and as I got older and my world view changed, so did many of my political notions. However, to be honest, I only voted for Obama once. I always liked him, but I was unsure back in '08 if his campaign was absolute and he would be a good leader for the nation or if millions of people were knee deep in the hoopla and not sure what HOPE they were backing. 

Happily, my fears were unfounded and I proudly cast my vote in 2012 and helped turn Indiana blue for the first time in as long as anyone can remember. I like the guy, I like the way he presents himself, I love the way he's handled himself both personally and as a leader. Some of his policies aren't the best, but they are a good and earnest start...and fuck people...we need to start somewhere. 

Doesn't hurt his wife is a badass as well. \

So it BOTHERS me, greatly, that segments of our citizenship feel that they can insult and downright degrade the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. You don't have to like him, but you do have to respect him. He is the PRESIDENT, for fucks sake. You don't tell the actual MOST POWERFUL MAN IN THE WORLD to "go back to Kenya" or wish him to have his daughter raped. You don't tell a 15 year old TEENAGER that her "real parents probably sold her." That is sick and twisted. 

To those people, I say, you are part of the problem. You're in time out. 

Some guy, for some reason we don't fully understand and may not ever fully understand, bought a high powered gun, a shit ton of ammo and felt brazen enough to walk in the middle of a club where people were dancing and kill 50 of them and injury 50 more. The fact that can even happen is seriously fucked up. 

Does it matter if he was a radicalized Muslim or a gay Muslim with a serious faith issue or just a pissed off crazy person? I say, no. It makes no difference, in this case. He was an American citizen, so Donald's whole idea of shutting down our countries doors to Muslims (which may seem like a good idea in theory, but we know how the internment camps turned out and I beg of our nation to not forget our own lessons)wouldn't keep this guy out. He was born in New York. 

The fact that he was a known entity, for whatever reason, to the FBI and there was no cause for pause when he suddenly needed a big gun and a lot of ammo...that's unnerving. Fight me on other things, but know that this is true: No one wakes up one morning, buys a high powered weapon and a ton of ammo that DOESN'T have bad things on his agenda. 

...and I'm tired...tired of the same old arguments from the same old gun owners. 

I say this as girl who spent many of her formative years living in Texas, where virtually EVERYONE was "casually armed". It was quite a shock to my mother at a Junior League meeting once to discover that she was the only un-armed person at the table. 

Guns are not going anywhere. They are not going to outlaw their ownership or demand you turn in your guns...and while I totally feel your "slippery slope" logic...we have to start somewhere. This is a fixable problem, but everyone is going to have to have to have a hand in and stop seeing just where their rights end, but where others' rights begin. You have the right to buy a firearm. I have the right to not get shot by one. 

Yes, criminals don't follow laws. But we have to start somewhere. Purchasing a weapon does not need to have an "instant gratification" element. Slow your roll. 

Assess yourself and realize the only reason to own a gun from the "AK" or "AR" collection is because you want to shoot a whole bunch of things very quickly...or because you think it makes you a little bit of a badass to have one. You are NOT purchasing this gun for your own safety to defend your home front, you're doing it with a delusion of grandeur. Check your cock at the door, you are not taking this gun hunting with the boys. 

I support your right to have your gun on your hip or in your purse or on your person. I did grow up in the south. But the fact that you have it makes me feel no safer in public. It actually does the opposite. I don't know you. I don't know if you're one xxanx away from a breakdown or a former military officer with years of training. I see your gun and (first think "god what a dipshit") think "I hope this guy is stable and doesn't get irate in the drive through...or we are all fucked."

To be completely honest, if your firearm is not accompanied by a uniform of some sort, I promise you, about 50% of the people you see on the street who see your gun, think you are some sort of dork, myself included. Fight me on this all you want...and if it makes you feel better, strap on that pistol, but know that instances where a "good guy with a gun" stops a "bad guy with a gun" are extremely rare. That's why we know about them at all. They are rare enough to be newsworthy. Just ask the guy in Tucson who almost shot the wrong person in the mayhem of a Senator being shot. It's Arizona, people are packin' heat...yet the one guy who tried to be a "good guy with a gun" almost killed an innocent bystander. That's more than a whoops. 

Miss me with your 2nd Amendment argument as well. Let's get some context around the situation and realize that our young nation had just fought to actually be a nation, so having an organized militia was of considerable importance, in case the Brits came back for another round. Times have changed, homeboy...the Brits aren't coming. And while you speak loudly of the "Obama boogey man" sneaking into your gunsafe under the cover of darkness...the "Lib-tards" aren't actually coming for your guns. Here's some shocking news. 

If Obama and his cronies are trying to jump in your left pocket, then the NRA is trying to jump into your right. Make no mistake, the very government you are trying to protect yourself from and you claim to be against, is very controlled by the NRA; an organization I presume you love. 

Governing is about choosing. About finding that place in the middle where everyone is a little uncomfortable and everyone gave up something. It's about me starting to walk your way, you start walking mine...to further quote Diamond Rio, "we'll gain a lot of ground, if we both give a little."

...and we have a lot of ground to gain. 

 

A Nation of Confused Girls

In a very macro sense, it's no great wonder why there is so much confusion regarding sex and sexuality for little girls, big girls, teenage girls...really anyone with a vagina. I was casually scrolling through facebook and noticing the sort of "memes" and other related messages that are getting out there. 

I'm confused too. 

Am I supposed to like sex and be ready to roll when I'm ready to roll, regardless of other variables with my partner? Or am I supposed to be chaste, a "good girl" and wait it out until he "deserves me."

Am I supposed to like it? Or is it something I'm just supposed to do. Can I tell someone what I like without sounding "slutty"? And what is slutty anyway?

I read things geared towards women of all ages regarding "embracing" ones sexuality and enjoying sex, presumably as "the boys" do. However, on the other sides of their mouth, these same people are saying "Wait, don't move to fast, he'll think less of you."

Now, I do think there is some nuance regarding if you are using sex as a weapon or as a tool. Sex won't make someone love you and when adding a sexual component to a relationship, invariably, you add a considerably high number of other factors to a relationship. Often though, I think we forget to tell girls how to tell the difference and give them the tools to decipher if they want to have sex for themselves or for someone else. We're not giving them much information there, it seems. A large amount of memes suggesting the actions of men who "respect" their woman and those of ones who do not. 

However, I'm not sure if I agree with "meme-ucation" and I think our girls deserve better. 

Today, a friend of mine, who has a daughter who is getting ready to turn 8 posted a meme saying "I'm going to teach my daughter the 7 B's. Books Before Boys Because Boys Bring Babies. 

While I think it's vital that anyone who is sexually active has a complete grasp on all the facets of a sexual relationship, which can include pregnancy and disease...I think it's important to also not make them terrified of sex or surround them with the knowledge that choosing to have sex means choosing to have babies or get a disease. Potentially and without knowledge, yes, but you can have a very healthy sex life without fear of either of these things. 

Yes, I realize the only 100% safe form of birth control is abstinence.  But it's also not a very realistic form of birth control for anyone with hormones. Abstinence only education does not take into account that the average age of marriage is continually being pushed back or that it's a largely accepted standard to progress from high school to college and possibly beyond. 

This means that most of people are not even LOOKING for a spouse until they are well into their 20's. Meanwhile, we are expecting them to ignore all hormonal developments in their ever changing bodies for the first quarter of their lives. Our parents and grandparents didn't even have this expectation for themselves. Previous generations were getting married at 18, right after high school and thus "allowed" to have sex. 

Now we are telling people, especially girls, "go get your education, go after your career...but stay away from sex. While you are ready to get an advanced education, possibly live away from home and handle money, you, my dear, are in no way ready to handle sex." 

A brief glance through the journal of my grandmother, which she kept when she was 20, had not met my grandfather yet and was in nursing school (and I'm sure did not expect her granddaughter to read one day) shows that even in those days, women we're purely abstaining from sex. They had the same urges and desires, but knew less about what to do with them, overall. 

But why are we giving girls these mixed messages. "You can be anything you want, but a sexual being." 

Why, in 2016, do fathers still feel compelled to post memes intended to scare away boyfriends. Did it scare you away when your father in law did that? Moreover, did it make you respect the guy more, when he said he had a gun and an alibi? Unlikely. You probably still thought he was a poor schlump who had not made peace with the fact that his daughter was growing up. 

I think it's far more valuable to invest this time into creating a relationship with your child that is open enough for them to be able to ask questions, for you to learn to provide them with relevant facts and education. Moreover, for you to show, as a parent, that you will love them, choices and all. 

Give your kids, but especially your girls, the knowledge to understand the difference between love and lust and the strength of character to be able to understand her own value. Let her learn that boys don't necessarily bring babies, but that is one of the risks. However, also address their own blossoming sexuality and help them be able to handle what is going on in their bodies...and that their bodies might betray their minds sometimes. 

But give them facts, not fear. Give them tangible tools, not a succession of memes. 

Internet Dating Experiment: Why your picture choices are a poor choice.

Eharmony.com is nice enough to flood my inbox with my "newest matches" and make me wonder why I can't just go to the app and look at them...and why they need to flood my inbox in the first place. 

Needless to say, I am curious. Internet dating profiles are somewhat akin to creating a resume for your personal life...posting it is like applying for a job. On your profile, its advantageous to highlight the best, most interesting, least weird version of yourself. 

Which, sidenote, seems to be a problem if you actually are a little bit peculiar. But I digress. 

It should come as no surprise that everyone on a dating website likes to laugh a lot, is looking for a "partner in crime" or a teammate. Everyone is easy going and laid back. Everyone's biggest influence is their parents, or grandparents...occasionally an offbeat teacher...but generally, the person who told them to "work hard and do good."

On the internet, everyone is a beacon of perfection and even-handedness No one gets mad when the trash doesn't get taken out or when the gas tank in the car is left on E, again. We're all wayyy to easy going and laid back. We all thing money is nice for financial security, but we aren't "into" it. We all like to go out for a nice meal and we all LOVE to travel. Everyone's thirsting for adventure and someone to share it with. 

And then there is a the pictures, oh the pictures that we choose. I'm not certain what pictures other girls are putting up, but I when choosing my pictures, I tried to give a realistic, even if somewhat prettied up, version of my life. I've tried to choose pictures that were all taken within the last year and give a decent cross section of my interests, experiences and possibly show my sense of humor. 

It appears that everyone has not taken the same spirit I have. Many pictures are, to put it lightly, interesting choices.

Interesting choice 1: You, in a group, where it's hard to figure out which one you are. 

If you're standing with 4 other dudes, holding a bike, in a full kit, helmets and sunglasses. It's hard to know who you are. Even if you say, I'm the one on the right, it's hard to guess. This also holds true for group pictures of a table full of people. I see that you are having a good time, but I may or may not have any idea which one you are. 

The other day a dude sent me the "first stage" of communication and when looking at his profile, he was in the same picture with the same guy several times. I came *this close* to asking if the other guy was single. 

Interesting choice 2: You, with a face close cropped out of the picture. 

It's been my experience that 9 times out of 10, this face is a chick. Probably your ex girlfriend. Why are you using this picture. Take a quick selfie. If the picture is somewhat current, it gives me the impression that you are recently out of a relationship, which isn't something I'm looking to mess with...if the picture is old...why are you using an old picture? Snap a few selfies, have someone take a few shots. Don't crop your ex out of the picture. 

Interesting choice 3: You, surrounded by a group of women, with no explanation. 

Unless you have 6 sisters, leave this one out. I'm looking for a boyfriend, not someone who spends his weekends up in the club drinkin bottles with models. I'm not looking to compete for your attention. 

On that note, leave the pictures of you in the club out altogether. We're in our mid-late thirties or early forties, who's kidding who about being up in the club. And that Affliction T-shirt looks ridiculous. 

Interesting choice 4: You, around the world. 

I love that you like to travel and have been places, I do! As previously mentioned, I think it's important that your pictures be of the "more recent" variety. (Although the guy who had a picture with the very clear date marker in the corner with 2007 as the year clearly disagrees with me.) 

Unless your job requires travel to exotic locations, I'm really not believing that you've hiked in the Alps, swam with dolphins in Fiji, toured the Colosseum in Rome and walked the Great Wall of China in the past year...or even, really, in the past two years. I'm sure you are attempting to show what a worldly person you are, but to me it just looks like "Look at me in a cool place! Pick ME...and in the next round of pictures you can be standing next to me in these cool places."

Which is not reality. 

I'd rather see pictures that manifest your actual life, not the one you show that you have on social media. Granted, it's going to be the prettiest version of that life, it's an interview after all, but showing me that you've traveled to all these places don't make me want to get to know you more. It makes me question why you are trying so hard. Save the world traveler information for our date. 

Other choices that made me laugh out loud: One guy in a picture that was clearly from HIS wedding. A guy who obviously did a professional photo shoot for his profile and used ONLY these pictures. (Guy at table laughing, guy casually walking in the woods, guy casually throwing a ball for a beautiful Golden Retriever...all in the exact same outfit) 

Or on the other side of the spectrum: The guy who took a low light, out of focus picture with his computer camera and that's the only picture. 

A little effort is nice too, dude.

Dating Scene: 2016

Over the summer I had a bit of a renaissance of myself. I was changing jobs and leaving the hotel industry, decided to get a handle on my fitness and overall health and eliminate some dead weight from my life in general. 

With all that change, I decided to boldly venture into an unknown territory and try on-line dating. 

Perhaps it was my inexperience or perhaps it is because I essentially jumped in with two feet, I found the experience overwhelming and  quickly abandoned the project. 

A few weeks ago, much to my anger and dismay, I discovered that my eharmony membership was on auto-renewal. Therefore, my quick foray into on-line dating inadvertently nailed me for another $140 bones...and those bastards wouldn't...give...it...back...

This shot a white hot bolt of anger through me...and I decided to "beat them at their own game." and use the damn service. 

Yes, I realize there is some sort of irony in that entire statement. 

However, as I will mention in other blogs which I can't seem to get around to finishing, I've recently decided to set up some parameters for my dating life...a few guidelines...some rules. 

I'm Catholic, we Catholics really enjoy clear sets of rules. At least we are fully aware of breaking them. 

This time, as I more "dip my toe" into online dating, I'm doing it with some guidelines and rules. 

Needless to say, the Sly Kitten, Gucci and Emcee have been involved in various discussions about these rules and it's come up several times that said gentlemen might be off-put by my parameters.

I have opted to go with it anyway. I don't think my parameters are overbearing, nor do I think I'm being bitchy, snobby or rude to have them and to follow them. 

If you think less of me or don't like it...it's okay...we're probably not a good match. 

I had the realization that online dating is not really a popularity contest, any more than receiving 200 likes on something you post on Facebook is not indicator of your overall influence in the world. I'm going through and ending conversations with people I don't think are compatible and sometimes that requires a split minute judgement on how they answered a question. Might I miss someone who I might have had a nice evening with? Probably. Might I also strengthen my chances at finding someone who I might be able to spend a few nice evenings with? Certainly. 

The main parameters are simple: 

I have decided that I do not text date. It's been my assessment that text messaging stifles actual conversation and actually getting to know someone. Therefore, I have decided that, at least with boys I'm potentially going to go on a date with, text message must be replaced with actual phone calls. Corollary: Text messaging is appropriate for sending the address of where we are meeting or confirming details. But otherwise, guess what: the phone makes calls too. 

Once you have called to ask me out, please create some sort of a plan. It projects at least a vague interest and subtly lets me know that you're at least somewhat for real. It's disheartening to be asked out and then asked to make the plans. 

You're not coming home with me. Don't ask. 

In the interest of full disclosure, I developed these parameters prior to this online dating fete, but honestly have not had the opportunity to put them into practice. It's now been a week and last night I had the first opportunity to give someone my phone number and tell them not to text me. 

Sly Kitten said "He's going to think you're WEIIIRRRRDDD!" 

I said "He probably will anyway, this is the least weird thing about me."

In the end, last night I had the opportunity to try it out twice. It was hard to phrase. The conversation goes like this. 

(Paraphrasing)

Him: Lets meet up! Here is my number!

Me: Great, I'd love too, Here is my number, and...

What do I say here? I don't text?  He's going to find out that's a lie. How do you phrase it to not sound standoffish. 

"I'd rather talk than text, give me a call"

"Here's the rub, I prefer not to text, looking forward to your call"

I've tried both of these out, now, last night.  

I had both results. One guy never responded and I looked into my messages and he's hidden himself. The other one called. 

We're meeting up for a cupcake tonight. He said he appreciated that I didn't want to text. We spoke for a bit last night. 

He's probably not "the one" he might not be anyone. But the fact that I requested to not passively communicate and told him I was down to meet up and take part in a plan that I did not create, he reacted too in the way, I presume, men do...

He just did it. 

Week one: Over and out.