so you think you want to date online

• maybe when you're a man over 60, mentioning to me in your first email that you are looking for a woman of child bearing age isn't the best idea.
• you are 40. surely you can find a picture more recent than your senior portrait.
• my dad is 52. if you are closer to his age than mine, i'm sure he'd love to hang out with you.
• asking for pictures of me in a bikini (or less) the first time we chat is a big no-no. at least wait until our second chat. (i jest. don't ever ask, pervert.)
• this isn't hornypeople.com. so please never use the phrase "give it to you like a porn star" in your correspondence.
• hey, 21-year-old college junior, telling me that you're looking for a cougar isn't a good pick up line.
• another pick up line that you should avoid is:  "so what kind of baggage do you bring to the table?"
• if you're going to ask me on a date, plan to pay for it...or at least for your half.
• i am 5'7".  if you only come up to my eyes, you are not 5'10".
• i know you're a doctor.  i remembered from the first 63 times you mentioned it.  
• "lol" and "jk" are not only stupid, they don't make your disrespectful comments any less rude.
• your = pronoun indicating possession by you or yourself. you're = you are.

don't worry though, at least my mom's on your side. she says i should give you a chance even though you have difficulty stringing words together into a coherent sentence.  she says that maybe, although every email i get from you is boring and you have never once made a joke or anything resembling a joke, you might be funny in real life.  she says that maybe you chose the picture that makes you look like a mouth breather (you know, the one with your mouth hanging open) because it honestly didn't occur to you to consider that people would actually be looking at this picture.  good thing i've learned not to listen to deba.

i can do hard things!!!

one of my daydreams is being a concert violinist (where i wear a long black dress. also, in this daydream, i'm thin. well, actually, in all my daydreams i'm thin.) and i play some very intricate piece and jiggle my wrist a lot. a few years ago, i joined my school's orchestra. i mean, i was supposed to just help out but i had ulterior motives. i was going to secretly learn the violin, just by watching the instructor teach the students. however, thanks to two incredibly generous families, i obtained my very own beautiful violin and free violin lessons. i took one year of lessons before my teacher had to stop and though i never intended to, i stopped playing. boo.

fast forward to this summer.

todd, the musical director of the summer programs, knew that i had, at one time, "played" the violin. so he asked me to play with a group to accompany the boys choir. todd failed to mention (because he knew i'd say no if i knew) that i was the only violin in the group and there were only 3 other musicians. that was pretty daunting for someone who took a year of lessons and had never performed publicly before. he asked me on tuesday, the performance was friday and i hadn't picked up a violin in over 2 years. it was terrifying, but todd is dangerously convincing and my daydreams are alive and well. so, while imagining myself in that black dress and smiling demurely at all that applause, i said yes. this was my chance. i even had a black dress, but a year of boarding school cafeteria food ensured that "thin" would not be part of my reality.

i practiced non-stop for three days, by myself and with todd on the piano. todd is a musical genius and wrote a very simple part for me, which we ended up further simplifying, just for fun. but no matter how simple it was, i couldn't stop the shaking of my bow hand. then there was a surprise dress rehearsal friday morning and we played in front of all 120 middle schoolers AND all the teachers. i was so scared and my hand shook so bad that the bow bounced like a pogo stick, but i survived. that afternoon, we had another dress rehearsal, this time all the counselors were there, too, but i was finally starting to master my shaky hand.

and then, before i knew it, it was time for the performance. i was wearing a purple dress (my black dress was rendered useless when i discovered i couldn't zip it up anymore.) but i was ready for my daydream to come true. i walked out there pretending like i knew what i was doing, pleased in the knowledge that NONE of these parents and most of my co-workers had no idea that i was a total poser. todd fueled my illusion by having me play a note and pretend to tune my violin before we started. (yeah right, as if i knew how to tune a violin and as if he hadn't tuned it for me just a few minutes before.) then i played. and those boys sang their hearts out. because they practically shouted their angelic melody, i had lots of false confidence and i bowed the heck out of that violin and swayed, just like a real violinist. we were stars. i know we were because we got claps AND whistles AND shouts (i'm not sure how much of that was in my head.). i wasn't great and my part was simple, but my grin was so big it hurt my head because my daydream had come (kind of) true and i had conquered a fear. and i had done it without the help of the anti-anxiety drugs that my dealer (andrea, the clarinetist) was pushing on me. my colleagues were lovely and supportive and complimentary and impressed that i was so humble that i had never told anyone that i was a violin star. (luckily, the boys sang loud enough that no one will ever know that it was not modesty, but lack of skill that prevented me from ever claiming the violin as one of my talents.)

i realize this picture proves nothing
 other than that somebody takes very blurry pictures.

the next night, todd hosted a wine and cheese party to honor all the people involved in the arts program. there, he toasted us and gave me my own special shout out for being brave and said how proud he was to see the beginning of my career as a concert violinist (todd is obviously quite dramatic.) and people cheered and said "yea, sweetpagene!" and it was so exciting to have my own toast and it wasn't even my wedding.

but the point is: you can get away with a lot if you pretend you know what you're doing (just look at most politicians).

also, the point is: i can do hard things!!!

also, the point is: i have got to lose some weight so i can fit back into that black dress.

fact: i am not a dog person.

or even a pet person.  so i am not sure how i became the sole guardian of tola for the next 10 days.  tola is a pit bull.  despite my limited knowledge of dogs, i do know that pit bull is latin for "savage man-eating beast"  so when i met jason and he told me that tola was a pit bull, i was scared of a repeat of the day i got rabies.  "don't worry," he said.  "tola is a gentle dog, don't let his size or breed scare you.  tola's never bitten anyone"  well, it was quite the honor to be chosen as The First Person Ever Bitten By Tola.  i walked in, he ran up to me and tried to eat my knee.  i jumped away and shouted, "OH MY GOSH!! CAN I USE YOUR BATHROOM!?!"  i'm pretty sure that jason thought i wet myself, but i had just drunk a lot of root beer at dinner.  since then i've always been a little nervous around tola and i was more surprised than jason was when he asked me to dog-sit tola for the week and i said yes.  i tell you what, the things i'll do for money.  i don't even want to know what's next for me, if this joblessness continues.  (probably hooking.)

so yesterday, i went to visit tola so he could get used to me again and not go into attack mode after jason left.  we all went on a jolly walk and i saw a white dog (breed: mutt, according to jason.  according to me: gross, drooling dog) get hit by a car!  thanks to hundreds of hours of law and order, i immediately memorized the license plate so i could report the hit and run to the police.  i told jason this and he pointed out that it wasn't really a hit and run because the car had stopped and the driver was checking to see if the dog was ok, which was the right thing to do even though i was a tiny bit disappointed.

white dog was fine because the next thing we knew, he and tola were engaged in some sort of slobbery wrestling match.  white dog had a 6-inch strand of booger drool hanging from each side of his mouth.  during the match, one strand somehow made it tola's face and was stretched between his eyes.  tola didn't like that sensation, so what did he do?  he shook that slime right off his face and onto my bare leg.  i nearly cried, but tried to play it cool.  play it cool in this situation meant secretly searching for a twig or pebble to scrape the snot off, while keeping my gag reflex under control.  no suitable twig or pebble was found so i had to let it dry, at which point, it flaked right off.  easy peasy.

tola warmed up to me very quickly this time.  so much so, that when i used the bathroom, even though i asked him nicely for some privacy, tola firmly refused and accompanied me to the bathroom.  today is my first day of feeding tola all by myself.  hopefully, all will go well, once i get over the stench of his food and become accustomed to my new layer of fur.  but, if you hear of a story on the news of unidentifiable human remains being devoured by the world's gentlest pit bull, it'll be your turn to be a good citizen and let the appropriate authorities know it's me.

tola plotting his attack.
don't let his timid look fool you.
he is already mentally feasting on me.

a pictorial list of crime shows or "unemployment leads to couch potatoitis."

yeah, i really need a job. but until that happens, this is what i'm going to do.

my favorite crime shows (in order of preference):

the crime show that i hate more than anything in the world because the two young guys are dopes and are always flicking each other and the israeli girl is such a smug know-it-all and yeah right, they'd let that gothic girl dress that way at work:




rationale (because i've got the time):

i love everything about criminal minds except agent derek morgan's eyebrows.
i love everything about svu, but it is less exciting than criminal minds.
i have a major crush on jack malone. he is so smart.
cold case makes me cry happy tears and they always provide closure for the victim's ghost who randomly appears throughout the show.
the other law and order shows are just back-ups if my favorites aren't on.
the csi shows have some ridiculous puns and i hate that horatio caine is ALWAYS looking sideways over his sunglasses. sometimes he'll put his sunglasses on JUST so he can look sideways over them. ugh.

ok, now i'll go be productive.

the amazing race: food bank style

the other night i helped the food bank deliver food boxes to needy people downtown. my partners were don and klayne who were really serious about team huddles and cheers and racing the other teams. at first i thought they might be cool until don said "fantastic" for the 785th time. also, one of them had b.o. i think. maybe it was my car. but i'm pretty sure it was one of them. AND they kept talking about how much they liked each other. they were nice guys.

but anyway, we had 6 people to visit. dolores had a million ailments and even more contraptions to help her deal with her ailments. she will never be healthy and will never leave her wheelchair, but she is one happy lady and cracked herself up several times in the ten minutes we were there...we chuckled politely. yolanda was a katrina refugee who'd fallen in love with the city and decided to stay. peter was a blind, nearly deaf man. he lived in darkness (literally, it was pitch black in his apartment) and we spent 20 minutes there helping him put his food away and watching him organize it by touch and sound (he shook the cans to know what was in them). he carried a card warning people of his inappropriate tendencies.

they all lived in small, very dirty apartments, most had some sort of physical or mental disability, and more than one had obviously at one time been a hard core drug user. and all i could think was "why am i so blessed? why do they have to face life with these burdens and i don't?" it was humbling to realize again just how good and rich and odor-free my life is. i have no right to complain. it's true what they say, that the best way to forget about your own problems is to help people with theirs.


plus it was good to see what's in those food boxes, because unless someone hires me, i'll be getting my own delivery one day. there was a ton of corn. and i hate corn.

man, i need a job.

thanks to you, there is now "hope for anna" AND we know the origin of "the bird"

it's time to choose the winner of our "hope for anna" giveaway!!

is the anticipation killing you?

and the winner is...

b and i are so excited about your prize!! (which is equal parts lame and awesome!!)

yes, those are my strawberry shortcake pjs and yes, it was 3:37 in the afternoon.

so, everyone, thanks for humoring me.  let's play again some time.

ps. courtney, send me your address so we can start what i know will be a beautiful friendship.  when can i come visit?

it's come to this.

today, while law and order was on commercial break, i picked up my brother's math book and started flipping through it to see what's new in the world of calculus:

"since polynomials are easy to integrate, (of course they are.) the problem of integrating rational functions is really that of integrating proper rational functions. (duh.) but can we always integrate proper rational functions? (this question keeps me up at night.) in theory, the answer is yes, though the practical details may be messy. consider first the integrals of f and g above."

"It is a remarkable fact that any proper rational function can be written as a sum of simple proper rational functions like those illustrated in examples 1 and 2." (really? remarkable? is that the right word here? i mean, i think the unfortunate success of lady gaga is remarkable. proper rational fractions? not so much.)

here's my favorite part:

"we found their values by 'brute force' (that probably means "without a calculator") but there is an easier way. (thank goodness for that.) blah, blah, blah more boring math words that i don't understand, blah, blah, blah....you have just witnessed an odd, but correct, mathematical maneuver." (it's like magic!)

i know, it reads like a novel, but that's not my point. actually, i'm not sure what my point was, because i'm mostly thinking that i'm kind of embarrassed that i spent all that time typing from a calculus book.

i marvel that b takes this class on his own free will. do you know why? he is a math major. he chose to pay money to learn about this stuff. and you know what really kills me? as if majoring in math wasn't enough to suck all the life out of you, he decided to add another boring major. he's a dual major in math and--NO! you guess.

(ha ha, robin, you can't google this.)

CHEMISTRY!!! (were you right?)

i dare you to think of something boringer. you can't.

man, b is so dumb. well, no, that's not true. he's quite smart, obviously, because he actually understands this stuff. and all this from my brother who recycled a bunch of brand new notebooks because "i don't need 'em." and missed his flight (while he was sitting at the gate) because he forgot about time zones and thought he was one hour early.

i'm having a giveaway. it's called "hope for anna."

i'm calling it that in honor of my friend, anna, who HATES giveaways.  and she hates giveaways because she detests generosity and goodwill and brown paper packages tied up with strings  (she probably also loathes white, fluffy bunnies and rainbows.)

just kidding.  anna is one of the coolest, realest people i know.  plus, she reads lots of books, which i can also do, now that i am a stay-at-home mom without kids.  she is the mother of my former student, lucy, whom i adore with my whole heart, so she is extra cool.  anna won't enter because it's against her principles, but that's ok, i'm going to send her a giveaway prize ANYWAY!!!  

ok, so here's the deal.  i'm going to give away...something.  i'm not crafty at all, so i don't know yet what it will be, but it will be awesome.  and if it's not, i'll put some cash in the package to make up for the lack of awesomeness.  now, i know you're thinking, "i'm not entering this giveaway because it's like going to the dollar tree and buying one of those bags that say 

 and inside there is a broken yo-yo, gift bows, dried-out play-doh and some little plastic army guys and i don't need that kind of junk at my house."  but i can assure you that you will not receive those items because i don't have them.  but it could be similar junk, like a keychain from disneyland with my name on it.  or it could be a really great package that you will want to tell your friends about and that will make you so glad that i am unemployed and have the time to do ridiculous things like this.  you just never know.  but that's a risk you should be willing to take.

so.  now.  you should comment below.  but do not mention the giveaway or you will be disqualified.  in your comment you should tell one fact about england, like "because of the signing of the anglo-portuguese treaty in 1373, portugal is england's oldest ally."  (we are doing it this way because anna loves learning and she loves england and so we will all learn about england.)  and then i will choose a number out of a hat (i know, there are random number generators, but there is nothing like the suspense of pulling a number out of a hat and hoping it's yours and then being really sad when it's not.)  and then i will ANNOUNCE THE WINNER!  and you will send me your address secretly, so all the perverts can't stalk you and i will send you a package that will maybe be better than a dollar tree surprise bag!  

the deadline to enter this surprise giveaway is whenever i remember that there's a giveaway going on, so hurry.  and i only have four readers (one of whom won't enter), so your chances are really, really good.

in the interest of full disclosure i hate giveaways, too, but that's probably because i never win anything. except spelling bees.

do you know these guys?

because if you don't, you should. but you probably already do. i only learned of them this year because i have a tendency to be at least a year behind on pop culture. in fact, just last week i had to look up "the kardashians" that i'd been hearing so much about and see what made them so famous. as far as i could tell, the answer to that is: nothing. also, recently i learned to identify justin bieber in pictures and then i heard one of his songs and my friend said "that's justin bieber" and i said "no way" because he sounds like a girl! i realize this is probably not news to you, but no wonder people make fun of that poor kid, whose girlfriend is selena gomez, according to all my students. (i haven't a clue who selena gomez is.)

ANYWAY.

i didn't come here to talk about the kardashians and justin bieber, i came here to share some actual talent with you. i love lots of songs and like a lot of bands. however, my list of favorite bands is short because in order to be a favorite, i must be very familiar with most of their discography and i have to be willing to pay money to see them in concert. there are very few bands that meet these criteria, therefore, my favorites are:

the beatles (duh)
cake (also, duh)
pink floyd
squirrel nut zippers
bob marley
jimmy cliff
my man friday


BUT.

i can now add mumford & sons to that list. oh my word, they are so good it makes my belly button tingle. they are unlike anything i've ever heard before (mtv says they're rock, itunes says they're alternative, i say they're french fries for my ears.) and they do for the banjo what jethro tull did for the flute (make it cool.) and their words!!! i'm not much of a lyric girl, i'm more for the music, the melody. sure, i can sing along, but i don't pay attention to the meaning or anything like that. but their lyrics? poetry!!

(mildly amusing anecdote: on cake's album, pressure chief, there is a song that i sang along to for months before i realized they were saying a very foul word that i am not fond of. and actually, i only learned they were saying that foul word when someone said to me, "i think it's cute that you substitute your own word there." and i had no idea what that person was talking about.)

"love, it will not betray you, dismay, or enslave you; it will set you free. be more like the man you were made to be. there is a design, an alignment to cry, of my heart to see the beauty of love as it was made to be. " -sigh no more (shakespeare gets some credit for this lyric.)

"i need freedom now and i need to know how to live my life as it's meant to be. and i will hold on hope...and i'll find strength in pain..." -the cave

"seems that all my bridges have been burned, but you say that's exactly how this grace thing works. it's not the long walk home that will change this heart, but the welcome i receive with a restart." --roll away your stone

(warning: if you don't like foul words, stay away from "little lion man" even though everyone says it's their best song. it's not.)

so, in conclusion, throw together a few guitars, a banjo, literary lyrics, some jaunty tempo changes, a hint of celtic music, and scratchy british voices and you get mumford & sons. they make me happy.

i feel like a stay-at-home mom without kids.

look at me! blogging three days in a row!

that's what happens when you're unemployed. which i am. i wear my strawberry shortcake pjs WAY more than i should and i feel like i'm real live friends with elliot stabler. i sleep in until 7 or 8 every morning. i've already done all the cleaning and organizing i usually put off. i spend most of my time looking for jobs that i am not qualified for and then writing cover letters trying to convince people that i can do more than make third graders laugh at my silly jokes. i text and chat my friends and family who are actually working and try to get them to entertain me. (thank goodness deba and george hate their jobs and are more than willing to entertain me.) one time i was chatting sara and she had to go to lunch break and she said "i'll be back at 1" and i said, "well, that's right during second naptime, so i might not be here." and i wasn't. i was sleeping. i have plenty of time to do lots of things like greek festival on a WEEKDAY! and going to morning gym classes and hanging out with friends and volunteering and trying new elaborate recipes and running in the park when there is sunshine. unfortunately, i also have no excuse NOT to go to the scrapbook expo with deba. so all in all, unemployment is pretty fun. except that my bank account seems to be leaking money.

but today i had an interview. if someone called you and said, "we'd like to interview you." and you were thinking "hmmm, what should i wear for my interview?" would you instantly think of faded black jeans and a white t-shirt that is inside out? no? neither would i. but that's what the woman next to me was wearing. yeah. she was. and i'm pretty sure she hadn't combed her hair in a week. this is what i'm up against. and nobody wants me.

but other than that and the plumbing problem at zions bank, i love my belated summer vacation. i'm pretty sure that i will be crazy by october and homeless and bankrupt by spring. unless they decide to hire me over the t-shirt lady, but at this point, it's not looking good.

i will be back tomorrow, yes siree. i might even do one of those trendy giveaways. (do i have to give away some craft i made or can i just find some junk lying around and send it someone?) tomorrow i will be discussing a band that is not cake. (for once.)

you're excited. i know.

this is what happens when i'm too lazy to plan a trip.

it was the glorious two day break before the second batch of kids came and i was too darn worn out to plan one last exciting european adventure. so i stuck around town with some friends and this is what we did:

climbed up a mountain and took a picture of me sticking my chest out,

and took a nice group photo where we all try to forget that we didn't put on make up,

and i put on a helmet and pack and listened to claudio's instructions about running off the mountain,and dori and i had difficulty with the loads we were carrying on our bottoms,
then i ran,
and i jumped!
and flew like a bird (a bird attached to very thin strings) while claudio hummed classical music in my ear (free of charge),

and then i took a picture of my shoes.


and just so you know, claudio looked like a model.

lessons learned and moving on.

hey there. it's been a while. at robin's insistence, here i am. (i kind of adore robin, so i pretty much do what she says. except move to florida.) i haven't felt much like writing a real post in a long time. (when i say "real" i mean "funny") i wanted to spare my four readers from what i've been feeling, but robin said "it's your life, neeners! i want to hear it...bitter and all." (of course i adore her, why else would i allow her to call me that ridiculous name?) and besides, life isn't always funny, right? RIGHT?!?!

you see, i've been sad for a while. really, really sad. the last few months have been a perfect storm of crappiness, a chain of discouraging events that all started with (but weren't necessarily caused by) one stupid (and serious) choice i made in a momentary lapse of reason. (name that band) i have cried more in the last 6 months than in my previous 31 years. it all spiraled until i felt lost in hopelessness and despair and wondered if i could ever be happy again. i felt beaten and wanted to give up. it sounds trite and silly, i know, but my pain was so very real.

but i know there are lessons to be learned in every experience and pain can signify growth. so because of the profound lessons i've learned, i consider the last several months very sacred. i am a different person than i was a year ago, but hopefully much closer to becoming the person i want to be.

and because i'm a sucker for a list, here some things i learned in my year abroad and my summer of crappiness:

that it wasn't just a new school i needed, it was a new career. (or maybe i just needed an actual summer vacation.)

that life is so much more meaningful when you surround yourself with the people you love who really care about you and leave behind the people who don't. real friends are always there for you.

that africa does not agree with my digestive system.

how to truly take a risk. sometimes those risks reap great rewards. other times, they don't. but i'm stronger for having taken those risks and more courageous than i ever thought could be.

italian.

what it means to give your heart to someone. for the first time in my life, i loved. and then i lost. but more importantly, i learned that even with a broken heart i can pick myself up and move forward, with faith in myself and hope for the future and trust in god.

the importance of listening to my gut. (except when my gut is telling me to eat the entire batch of cookies i just made. i should never listen to my gut in that instance.)

that i really only like rain when it's a rare occurence.

that beauty really is so much more than a pretty face. (it's also red painted toenails.)

deeper conviction that the beliefs i've always held most dear are true.

appreciation of sparkling water.

to accept that i am human and make mistakes, even big ones i never thought i'd make. but thanks to a loving savior i can come back from the big ones, too.

that i am never, ever alone.

i am worth it.

***

so i'm back. back to blogging (hopefully) and back in the usa. i'm still figuring some things out, but for the first time in a long time, i have hope. and that makes all the difference.

and because posts are always better with a picture, i'll end this novel with a picture of my friend, ari. i could look up a deep thought about perspective or something...but instead let's just laugh at how silly he looks.