Sharing secrets with Google
September 23, 2009
Are people more likely to share their secret thoughts and questions with Ms. Google rather than their own friends and family? The reliable search engine could be the world’s new confidante.
Personally, I don’t want to share a best friend. Jealousy ensues. Things get messy.
There must be some virtual vault in Google’s zainy mansion that captures our world’s most intimate questions. The treasure chest is free from judgment. It contains truth in the form of misspelled thoughts and mysteries. Vulnerability hides in the bottom left-hand corner.
As a multifaceted guru, Ms. Google has a variety of relationships with millions of people. Is your own exchange emotional or factual or perhaps something else? It takes time to fully develop.
I have a few favorite search phrases that have led people to my website:
“babies with really long necks” Yikes.
“toe wrestling” I’m glad I am not the only one interested in this sport.
“is there beer at medieval times?” Yes, lots of it. Enjoy the booze.
“why are balloons sexual?” I wonder how Ms. Google answered this one.
“i made him wear heels” Congratulations. I’m impressed.
“gchat etiquette” I don’t believe it exists, hence I signed off for good.
If you feel confident in your relationship with your search engine, send me a few of your best or most intriguing “exchanges”.
A tribute to all the awkward people
September 15, 2009
I suppose writing exercises improve one’s technique, but it usually makes me question certain aspects of my life. Let’s take the first free-writing topic in my creative class this evening:
Write about the last time you got into trouble.
Failure. Blank canvas. I don’t get into trouble. I haven’t. Why haven’t I? Total nerd. New weekend goal: Get into trouble.
And the second free-writing subject:
Write about the first awkward moment that pops into your head.
My head swells with clumsy conversations, inelegant exchanges, and floundering fumbles. And this is only from the past week. Names, faces, and a wave of anxiety collectively hit me and quickly fade into comic relief.
I like awkward. I live by it. It’s the only thing that really makes sense to me. I’d much rather live my days in a sticky dish over a polished one. By definition, awkward means difficult to deal with. Sounds like a challenge!
Linger outside of your comfort zone. Get out there, squirm, and learn.
If you’re reading this and you’re a bit clumsy at times, send me your best story. If you’re a troublemaker, I can learn a thing or two. Teach me your ways.
Expose Your Canvas
August 13, 2009
Mill at the River, 1900-1906, Source: The Yorck Project: 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei.
As Cézanne matured, he exposed his canvas.
We age. We evolve. Do we shed the layers? It is easy to slap on the extra paint, year after year, and hide behind it.
Weaknesses can be beautiful. After all, a person can love someone else for their vulnerability as much as their strength.
“What you can’t do is sometimes more compelling than what you can.” -The Girls’ Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank
Your biggest imperfection may be your new source of joy. Lighten the brush strokes and lose the layers. Expose yourself.
I’m easily amused
August 10, 2009
My stallion at Kennywood Amusement Park
The best gift I’ve received recently is a plastic toy.* I lit up as soon as I saw the striped animal waiting for me in my old bedroom.
I don’t need much. My parents have given me a lot already. During the holidays, my family bypasses extravagant gift exchanges.
We’ve simplified with no regrets.
Surprises are still in the game plan. Unbeknownst to me, my mom recognized my odd obsession with zebras. Giving me a zebra was her way of showing me maternal love. The toy cost less than five bucks, but it has already entertained me for endless hours.
I’m easily amused.
While we’re in the mood to give, I do need a name for this stallion. I feel like he will appear in a lot of photos as I venture out.
*The Barbie Dream House may top the list.
Balloons, Desire, and Sex and the City
August 6, 2009
Question: What do balloons, desire, sex and the city have in common?
Answer: Attraction. A gravitational pull. A force to be reckoned with immediately.
I'm the tall gal in the back. Sex and the City The Movie Credit: www.usmagazine.com
This week marked the beginning of the next chapter of Sex and the City The Movie (2). An open casting call brought out the ugly side of some of the prettiest people. Crazy fans cut in line more than I’ve ever seen anywhere … including elementary school. They needed their shot at the big-screen.
Here’s my deal: I’m not an actress. I do not want to be an actress. I would be dreadful, actually. I do like a challenge, and I am curious. I heard about the SATC open call 2 years ago, and I couldn’t resist. I was thrilled to be a part of the first movie as an extra. I felt like it was Take-Your-Daughter-To-Work-Day, but I wasn’t Cattral’s kid. I observed when I wasn’t “acting”.
Beyond the agony of wearing 3.5 inch-heels for a full day, I devoured every second of the opportunity. And frankly, I would have been blocked out of the final movie clip if I wasn’t wearing my supa-heels. No pain, no gain.
Despite my dislike of line-cutters, I am drawn to people that instinctively follow their compulsion. Yes, there are bad cravings (violence, cocaine, etc.), but I’m addressing the good kind: the trip you’re longing for, the mountain you need to hike, or the painting you need to create.
Larry Walters was a man who longed for flight. He strapped 45 helium-filled weather balloons to his lawn chair one day, and he flew. He did in fact pay violation fines afterward.
According to Wikipedia, Walters said, “It was something I had to do. I had this dream for twenty years, and if I hadn’t done it, I think I would have ended up in the funny farm. I didn’t think that by fulfilling my goal in life — my dream — that I would create such a stir and make people laugh.”
Larry makes me wonder whether our desires shape our dreams or our dreams shape our desires. Which is it?
Either way, don’t end up in the funny farm. Do what you need to do, but don’t cut in line.
Yes, I circled myself. Screenshot from the official Sex and the City The Movie Website
Quotes are silly
August 5, 2009
Sisters ... I'm on the right.
Quotes are wise. But pictures are the truth.
I could find a billion quotes from the most worldly women on this planet, but nothing compares to a simple photograph. This particular photo shows sisterhood beyond any written word whispered to me.
Aren’t we lucky that we can play with both words and images?
Mating call
July 28, 2009
His nose is loaded with lotion. My nose is hidden inside of a book.
I’ve been quiet.
The best feature of reading is re-reading. A favorite book of mine entered my realm post-College and pre-European Adventure. I needed a few “bus books” for the trip, and I stumbled across a good one: The Girl’s Guide To Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank.
The story follows Jane through her relationships with the most important men in her life: Father, Brother, First Love, Idealistic Love, Oodles of Lovers in Between, and the Real Love. The witty writing makes you light up, and the reality of truth, in the storyline, makes you dim down.
Bank reminds you of all that is “beautiful and funny and sad and true.”
Every time I re-read, I revel.
On the beach, Linda became her social-scientist self and said, “At the top of the social hierarchy is the blond man on the elevated white chair. The symbolic throne.”
“I believe the common term ‘lifeguard’ signifies his desire to copulate,” I said, “i.e., to guard the perpetuation of the species.”
“Note that he paints his nose white,” she said. “Not unlike the chiefs of many sub-Saharan tribes.”
The lifeguard stood up and blew his whistle.
I said, “Mating call.”
-The Girls’ Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank
Bat your Eyelashes and Lose at Tennis
July 16, 2009
“In the early 1960′s McCall’s has been the fastest growing of the women’s magazines. Its contents are a fairly accurate representation of the image of the American woman presented, and in part created, by the large-circulation magazines. Here are the complete editorial contents of a typical issue of McCall’s (July 1960):
1. A lead article on ‘increasing baldness in women,’ caused by too much brushing and dyeing
2. A long poem in primer-size type about a child, called ‘A Boy Is A Boy’
3. A short story about how a teenager who doesn’t go to college gets a man away from a bright college girl.
… 6. A short story about a nineteen-year-old girl sent to a charm school to learn how to bat her eyelashes and lose at tennis. (‘You’re nineteen, and by normal American standards, I now am entitled to have you taken off my hands, legally and financially, by some beardless youth who will spirit you away to a one-and-a-half-room apartment in the Village while he learns the chicanery of selling bonds. And no beardless youth is going to do that as long as you volley to his backhand.’)
… 8. An article on ‘how to overcome an inferiority complex.’
… 12. Four glamorous pages on ‘reduce the way models do.’”
-Betty Friedan, The Feminine Mystique
How much or little have women’s magazines changed in 2009? Take a look at the latest issues hanging around your desk, toilet, or bedroom.
Cut off the endorphins, please
July 14, 2009
Holly and I running in a high school cross country race. I'm on the right. Holly was about to pass me.
A lot of endorphins are swimming in my body. These e-friends of mine are playing Marco Polo and having a fabulous time. My endo-folk inspire me to thank the running goddesses for the gem of a sport. While on this high, I want to share a few symbols of why I think running is heavenly.
∞ Your legs will escort you on a tour of cities, greenery, humanity, and sound. It only costs you your joints.
≈ Passing other joggers on a trail is empowering. We all know it feels good. Blow past all of those slackers.
∑ Getting lapped around the Central Park Reservoir is purely humbling. The FDNY t-shirt guy flew by me three times today!
± Mud. Plunge into it. Rainy running days are sublime. Don’t be dainty. Get attention with the glob afterwards
√ Regardless of your frustration level, your suffering will decrease after a wistful run. Woes will not be cured, but you will feel a few centimeters happier.
¿ Runner’s High. You won’t get it any other legal way.
∩ I know it’s not considered a “team sport” per se … but I have always felt united with other runners. Speed doesn’t bond, but pain and passion does. We’re out there doing it. It hurts. And we unexplainably love it.
∂ Every single person can own it.* You can conquer the one-million mile race, and it’s your gift. You can be a novice and jog as slow as molasses for two minutes. It’s still your gift. No one can take that away from you.
¬ Running is a beautiful reminder that life is short. My body may not be able to run in thirty years or maybe in two years. I do not know. I will savor it while I’ve got it.
Holly Kearl, the runner I’m pictured with above, is the most passionate runner I have ever met. We trained together in high school, and she continues racing today despite various injuries along the way. Holly never ran for awards or popularity, she did it out of pure elation.
Running is in her blood. It always will be.
Holly and me = running buddies
Holly is the founder of Stop Street Harassment, a website that helps end gender-based public harassment and assault.
Share your passion for sports. Actually, share your passion for anything! I’d love to hear your story. Email TheMathematicsofGlamour@hotmail.com.
*Obviously, there are exceptions.
