29 30 dimensions of compatibilty

So, this boy who asked me out for Saturday. Omg! Totally crushing... a coworker sent me an e-mail with a link to this article, and simply wrote "UGH." I replied:

Oh, with this one we could go into the whole nature vs. nurture thing. But I, for one, don't care that I might be genetically perfect for some 5'3" man living in a hut in the middle of Asia; the fact remains I want to spend my time with someone who, you know, understands why Arrested Development was brilliant.

35 Years

"Are we defending life
when we just pick and choose
lives acceptable to lose
and which ones to defend?"

--Derek Webb

concerned

I always get the 'problem' girls at church, where I volunteer with the Junior High. Finally, this 'round,' I 'got' a group of total sweethearts. They give me HUGS. Hugs! It is wonderful.
Except. Of course! there's always a 'but.' A major 'but' is our new pastor is chauvinist, and although I'm not 30 years old, there's a part of me that's like, HOW LONG MUST I SING THIS SONG? And shouldn't I have moved on away from such situations that would breed and encourage such behavior? (i.e., move on to a different church that's always been too conservative, from day one, but no, Elizabeth the long suffering has stuck it out for 5 years. I keep threatening to leave but I keep chickening out...largely because of the relationships I've made/currently have there, and how much I like the junior high department.) Dude, if this guy had been the guy at the beginning of my 'tenure' there, or had been there for more than just these past 2 months, I highly doubt I would have stuck around. And. He calls me Liz. I *hate* that.
Ack! This was not what I sat down, er, laid down, on my bed to share with you, Internet. Let me get back on track...So I finally don't have The Plastics as a group who actively try to make other girls feel like shit enough so that they quit going to church (you think I'm joking about this??) and instead have lovely, lovely young women to take 'under my wing.'
The other big red flag here I was going to rant about is a grave concern for these girls' education. A bunch of them go to Christian schools. Today, one of them raised her hand (a moment of chuckling here. They RAISE THEIR HANDS with me. It's unbelievable. I'm used to scowls or shrieking, not polite, Excuse me? I have a question. I love it.)
So my young friend Lauren goes, "Do Jews believe in killing people?'
Let us refresh ourselves. This conversation is taking place in LA! Have you never run across a Jewish person, child? I was like, there are very conservative Jewish people and very liberal Jewish people and lots of people in between but no, none approve of killing people. Since I was in church I refrained from saying Why the hell do you ask?? But she must have read my mind, because she responded that they had been learning in school about how the Jews are killing people in Israel. I said it was a reality that there are extremists in every religion and culture who are so consumed with their cause, they think any means to their end is okay. Please forgive me, but I was caught off guard and the only analogy I could think of was those who kill abortion doctors, so I compared the religious/cultural extremists to them. The group gasped as they seemingly had never heard of such a thing...so hopefully that brought the point home. Eek. That remark smacked of anti-Semiticism and, well it just unnerved me. This past September, I visited my sister and her family (she married into) who are Jewish, and I went to my first Rosh Hashannah service with them. As I filed in to the big tent service (oh the irony! Big tent revival...) with a thousand others, it was eery noticing the police cars camped out at every entrance/exit. My brother in law offhandedly commented on how they're aways concerned about bomb threats, etc.
Anyway, later on this morning, another girl piped up that her science teacher decided to skip over the 'part' in her science textbook that talked about evolution because he didn't believe it. Another girl said, oh my teacher did that too! He went on and on about how he was mad it was there for most of the period and it was kind of boring. They also shared that they were learning about Islam and a few indicated that this bothered them and why should they be learning this? So what did my theology scholar self respond with? Aristotle. I said, ok, random guy said this, and I want you guys to listen, so very slowly I said: "It is a mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without necessarily accepting it." An "ooooooh" went through the room; it was very dramatic. Hopefully they actually retain that. I even suggested maybe they could consider ways to relate to those with a different faith.
Oh these Christian schools. Oh me oh my.
Sad how anti-intellectualism is still running rampant. Why aren't Christians actively engaging the world around them? I don't think the answer to that is simple....but they are teaching our children to follow in their footsteps, and that scares me.
What's so funny is that at the top of the morning, this gorgeous girl who's in another group showed me her Brio magazine. Oh, Brio...the memories...where I got advice on fashion, makeup, and guys from, uhm, this woman. Ahem, so my young friend had brought the magazine with her to show off the fact that they used a photo of her in the mag as a graphic. (which, may I add, was very well done. She looked marvelous.) I flipped through the issue and found where they had interviewed Elisabeth Hassleback highlighting her 'bravery,' being the lone voice to 'stand for Christ' on The View. *sigh*
It makes me extraordinarily thankful that of all things, my love for cheesy Christian music is what first introduced me to a 'different' Christian perspective on things. Enter CCM Magazine. I started subscribing to that at some point--I think it was 9th grade--and I quickly grew tired of Brio. CCM sounds innocent enough, but luckily my mother never read the articles at the back of the magazine, because there my mind was being polluted each month by the likes of John Fischer who constantly was railing against the Christian thing of Us Vs. Them mentality. Reading those monthly articles honestly prepared me for the shock of being presented an alternate worldview by-of all things-fellow Christians who loved Jesus--in undergrad. Thank you, Mr. Fischer.
Of course, that wouldn't have happened to begin with without two long suffering individuals. And so I also give a huge cyber shout out to Lisa and Michael, my own youth pastors who, although they weren't super radical and didn't necessarily stretch my mind to new lengths, loved teenagers. That's exactly what I needed then. And I hope to return the favor to these girls.

not at all annoyed.

I'm trying to get back into the habit---er, get into the habit of blogging when I think of something, as opposed to never getting around to composing something beautiful which leads to never writing at all. Here are my rants for this Tuesday, based on what I read this evening.

1. The Oral Roberts Scandal. No, I'm not even going to go there about the blashphemous prosperity gospel that they seem to both preach and practice...rather, I'm appalled that such slanted writing was accepted as an AP article. What is being accused here makes my skin crawl; this sorry excuse for objective journalism, this clear disdain for charismatics equally angers me.

2. A general cross section of conservative evangelical leaders today? Hmm, 3/7 are of one particular tradition, another 2/7 are of one particular tradition. Out of 7, they could only come up with reps from 4 'denominations'? Also? 7/7 are white males. Also? What about the conservative Pentecostals? They're almost as common to see on these lists as are people without penises. Also? This is but one more example of why I just can't hardly ever refer to myself as conservative, politically or theologically, anymore. I suppose that's throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Still. Meantime, one of you boys want to help clean up the mess I just made, what with all the water throwing? Thanks.

3. I'm tired of reading/hearing people who got married in college address 20- and 30-something singles. Yes, please, pontificate more on abstinence; we, as a demographic, love hearing about it coming from those who were married by age 21. We eagerly await your valuable insight.

Hey, now there's an idea

I think it's touching that many straight people, including celebrities, have publicly vowed not to marry their significant other until our country makes gay marriage legal.
Of course, I think it would also be touching for many people, including celebrities, to publicly vow not to have any more plastic surgery until our country's healthcare crisis gets straightened out, allowing all US citizens--including the working poor--to be able to have their life-saving surgeries without fear of financial calamity.

on being a woman

In a world devoid of men, I would have to think pretty hard about what is my best physical feature. However, thanks to the forthcoming honesty of males I am aware that apparently [my xyz feature] is best. According to them. I didn't inquire about this, it's just been shared. Numerous times over the years. This information comes much to my surprise and confusion because I would never think/say that about myself. Yet, of course women are the complicated, mysterious ones...
You know, men have often shared they want brutal honesty in lieu of our subtle hints...so, although no person reads this anymore, either male or female, as I haven't posted in more than a year, I decided out of the blue tonight to post two examples of what doesn't work and two that do when it comes to picking up/getting positive attention from women. Ok, I cannot speak for all straight women, but I can speak for this particular one. Maybe three or four others too if I'm lucky.

Example #1: Guy driving down the road who is slowing down to hang his head out the window for the express purpose of wagging his tongue at me, who is sitting, minding my own business while I await my carriage driven by a partially blind sociopath (read: MTA bus driver who may or may not 'see' me waiting at the bus stop, depending on how violent or passive aggressive he feels at that particular moment)...uhm, you make me feel like a hooker. Was my jeans, t-shirt, ponytail self sitting next to a bus stop sign giving a hint that I would like to be hired out by the hour? No.

Example #2: Guys, together, in a large group, driving their cars past me, (who happens to be carrying grocery bags) yelling out some obscenity. This also does NOT work. Sorry to disappoint you, male internet. What may succeed in doing is me copying down your license plate and calling the cops. Oh that doing such a thing would produce actual results. But a girl can dream.

Example #3: I have come to realize this weekend that a great drinking game idea would be: to chug every time the producers of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, in their commentary on that film, use the term "texture." You might think you'd be ok, but I promise, you would be tanked. Why is that relevant to the topic at hand? It's not. But, I'd like to share that if you not only sort of look like but also swagger towards me on a Bogota dance floor a la Mr. Smith in the second scene of that movie, that would really work.

ahem.


Where was I?
Oh, I was going to end with a little true story. Tonight I was avoiding going home to my un-air conditioned abode. So my sweaty self was hanging out in a bookstore: messy hair in a messy updo, wild curls protruding God knows how many directions under the heat, shirt that really needs to experience the inside of a washing machine after the 103 degree afternoon we had, cropped jeans, and my look finsihed off with a set of 10 unpolished toes in flip flops that practically walk themselves they're so old. I was headed towards the check out but a book's title, Skinny Bitch in the Diet section (ha!), caught my eye, so I stopped and picked it up to browse. While flipping through, i became aware of a voice talking on a cell phone. Typically this annoys me but honestly it wasn't all that loud and I wasn't in a small enclosed space with said cell talker (are you reading this, loud talker-real estate fiend, who sees the same chiropractor I do, while we wait in a reception area about as expansive as my linen closet?) The voice seemed to belong to an attractive man. However, I listen to strangers talk on the phone for a living. And I get to see photos of the person belonging to the voice I'm hearing. If I've learned anything on that job, it's that you cannot tell what a person looks like from the sounds of their voice. (Sometimes I am dead on but most of the time I am shocked. I think part of that is because when people call me, they're desperately trying to sound like...well, trying to not sound desperate. Trying to sound cool. but they wouldn't be calling me if they weren't losers. I mean, unlucky people.) The voice was attractive, and the voice was not going away, the voice was standing perfectly still at my 8:00 angle. So being the nosy person that I am, I turned around. Surprisingly enough, an attractive man my age (oh so generally speaking,) belonged to the voice. Attractive bookstore man (ABM) was chatting away on his cell while staring at me. Immediately I cursed the fact that I have not updated the chipped paint on my toes. Then a nanosecond later I remembered that generally we women do that kind of thing for each other. A nanosecond after that I realized that my entire ensemble was a touch ragged and I had known this before I'd ventured out to the bookstore, but I'd gone anyway. A nanosecond later I realized that despite said frazzled look, I was being looked at by an ABM. And my toes were probably not what he was checking out. During this time I had locked eyes with him, ABM did not think to turn his head to at least pretend to look at something else. I thought to rearrange my feet as my stance was growing tired. A nanosecond after that, I had turned back around and decided since I had grabbed his attention standing like this, I chose not to rearrange my feet. I also stifled a smile since that would be noticeable--well, possibly. ABM kept going on into his cell phone, the sound coming from the same place, from a head that had still not turned away. Then ABM changed the conversation to the plans for this evening. He said to his caller, referring to the band playing tonight, "Oh, it's very indie." And gave specific directions to this show. I could no longer contain my smile, as just hours before I had had an IM conversation with the brilliant blogger Jennifer about being very indie. At that, however, I put the book down and walked away.
See, that basically worked. Why? Because he wasn't disgusting. This is key. And it was very charming to be admired while looking so frumpy.
Ok, no, I didn't wait around for a potential follow through. But I was hungry and already thinking about dinner. Also, ABM? Still on the cell phone. What would have really worked was putting the toy away and talking to me. In fairness, this all happened in about one minute's time. And I was really wanting to check out. Before I missed the sociopathic bus driver.

barely breathing, but alive nonetheless

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggggggggaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!

This is the response of someone who has been subjected to one of THOSE kinds of meetings. I just sat through all-day training at my job, and can I tell you, dear internet? The last 2 hours were on one topic. One. Specific. Topic.

Although I'm not going to discuss what our topic was, let me explain what I mean by "one specific topic." No, it wasn't something like food. That's really one 'general' topic. No, it wasn't desserts. Too broad. Ice Cream? Nope, still not really one specific topic. Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream had on a Tuesday, early evening, after a delicious meal of salmon cooked by your great aunt on your mom's side served on a plate with not one, but two lemon wedges?

Yep, something like that. ONE SPECIFIC TOPIC. Anything else? Like letting your great uncle come by to help? No, no, no, no, that's off topic. What if I had a tartar sauce request? No, let's all be team players. Let's stay focused on our topic.

For two hours. Two hours. Discussed in a room of 30 people, by all of 6 of said 30 people. Six people discussing one particular topic for two hours...while the rest of us drooled while we slept, passed notes, assembled a small village of styrofoam cup-inspired condominiums, constructed our family tree, drew detailed portraits of one another, and/or wrote the first nine chapters of a forthcoming novel.

Confession

Today in the lunchroom at work while I was eating my fajita this woman whipped out the ol' tarot cards and read another woman's fortune. She was being very loud about it too. The fortune teller was.
And I did not know whether to laugh or start praying in tongues. I may have done both?

Odd files...

Filed under strange:
Walking up to a house you've never been to. On a darkened street with no lamplight. I knew it would be awkward, so I decided throw in a wild custume in the mix too, complete with sunglasses and a large hat and a big sign on my chest, "World's Greatest Grandma". Why not? It actually was a lovely party celebrating LA stereotypes...I played the part of tourist extraordinaire. The back of my shirt read, "Retired. 10% tipper. And in no need to move fast."

Also filed under strange:
Standing in front of all the 8th grade girls at church--a good group, although yearning to be with the high schoolers who are more mature than those stupid boys. No sign of "my girls" who are too cool for pretty much everything except Hollister and lip gloss and pink cell phones...I guess they are at a VIP event of some sort... I stand in front of legging-clad teenagers wearing ballet shoes (Oh my gosh, is this really happening again? Of course, on 100 lb. girls this does, in fact, look cute. But damn those fashion magazines trying to get average sized women into those treacherous things again!) I say to the large crowd, "8th grade, eh? You guys were born in--" "1991!" "1992!" Hm, I reply. I was in 8th grade soon after that. In the nineties. The nineties? they ask. Tell us about the 90's, they implore. Gosh, these girls are so much nicer than my own. Well, I begin, the decade for me started in 5th grade and ended with a college internship. So, yeah, the nineties...grunge, Kurt Cobain--who died when I was in high school-
Who?
Excuse me, what do you mean, 'who'?
So I put off the lesson for a few more minutes to do a quick history lesson in culture and the evolution of rock from the days of makeup, big hair, and squeeling guitar solos to fuzzy guitars and feedback. Their heads nodded when I directed them to VH1's flashback shows, at least.
"How did you explain what has come out of grunge?" my bf asked later.
"I didn't have all day, and they don't have that long of attention spans!" I defended.
"You should have made reference to Courtney Love-- then they would have known what you were talking about."


And finally, while I'm on the 'old' roll:
Having a bus in L.A. drive past me, oblivious to my frantic jumping up and down and waving.
OH WAIT, NO, THAT'S NOT ODD.
HAPPENS ALL THE F-ING TIME.
What is different, however, is having a vehicle pull up next to me offering to give me a ride.
Well, ok, that sort of happens a lot too. It's just that usually it's a pickup driven by a shady looking man who honestly looks taken back by my flat refusal. One time a guy driving a car stopped me on my way down THE LEFT HAND SIDE OF THE STREET to ask which way I was headed. Think about that one for a sec.
Anyway, this time it was a woman in a mini van with a kid sitting in the back, and I was on the phone with my bf. I was kind of desperate... I did a once over of the car and driver and said into the phone, "I'm about to get into the car with a complete stranger. I will call you back." What's fascinating is that I was just seconds before throwing a wild tantrum in public, screaming vulgar obscenities. Moments later I was sitting in this van telling this woman that I am a student at the seminary down the road. What a great billboard I was. She was so generous as she drove me to the train station-- safely too, I may add. Our conversation was pretty interesting. She was on her way to take her son to his piano lesson at the time. I casually mentioned that I took piano when I was a girl. The woman replied, "Well, [my son] is learning some really interesting things. I don't think they teach piano now like how they did when we were kids."
*Blink*
*Gulp*
When we were kids?
When did I become old enough to be a soccer mom driving a mini van? When did this occur, people? I stole a glance at this woman. The late afternoon LA sun was shining directly in my eyes and she had sunglasses on, so I couldn't detect any crow's feet (although how can anyone in La-la land?) but the rest of her face indicated she was maybe five years older than me or so. Sheesh.
But seriously though, the angel in the minivan was very interested in my studies and it was actually encouraging. It really was. Oddly, strangely, the whole situation was like a reminder of the finger of God which every once in a while makes its presence known so vividly in my life. God cared about my desire to go see friends on the other side of town and God is interested in my studies, my plans for the future. I think I'll make it after all.

All I can do

I woke up today on my glorious day off, headed into the bathroom, and then returned to my bedroom to turn on my laptop for my daily dose of information.
Just then, the phone - the land line- rang. I enjoy asking telemarketers for their home phone number so I can call back when it is convenient for me, so I picked it up. Well, wouldn't you know it, it was a recording of a woman representing a group that calls itself "One Nation Under God." I can't locate them on the internet, although I have been trying all day. This recording has called me before, but at that time I did not have the time to wait for a representative to get on the line with me. They are a group of Christians who are very concerned that the sanctity of marriage is being threatened by same sex marriage legality. The recording talked of the state of Massachusetts hurting the rest of the country by allowing gays to marry...the reasoning being that this will be considered legal even in states that don't support that legislation and eventually this will lead to ploygamy and a host of other atrocities. Yes, I just woke up, but yes, I pushed #1 to speak with a rep to put my name on their petition.
Which of course I didn't.
But this time, I immediately got through to a rep (last time I was on hold for 10 minutes so I just hung up.) "Do you wish to support the ban on same sex marriage?" she dryly greeted me. "Well," I replied, "actually I don't. I'm also concerned about the state of affairs in this country but I do not feel this is a pressing issue. I'd love to be able to maybe share with you why I think so." I honestly, truly, said this kindly and without attitude.
*Grunt* "WHY." She responded very impatiently, not with a hint of interest or a hint of preparedness she surely must have been trained in for this job.
"Well....I'm a Christian, too, and I would like my voice to be heard-I mean, I don't know if you take notes here, but I just wanted to let you know what I believe--"
"Hold on."
And with that, she put me through to someone whose name I do not recall. I should have written that down, but I did manage to write down points of our ensuing conversation. The guy I spoke with was a little more people friendly than the young woman had been. I was quite surprised when he actually agreed with me that this is not the most pressing issue our country is facing right now. Not "by any means," he said. But they are "concerned about the way the country is headed..." As I type this, I wonder why I even explain in detail what he was saying. As if this is new. As if I did not grow up in churches where I heard this rhetoric once a month at least and as if I did not grow up reading this in the Focus on the Family and American Family Association and Concerned Women For America publications my mother subscribed to. I've written school reports about these things. There is nothing new about this. I almost want to laugh at the things I read online when liberal people and organizations are starting to get so concerned that a theocracy is upon us. Not to say that that is a possible destination with the way things are headed, not to say that we should not be concerned, but on the other hand, people, this has been going on for years and years. This is not new propoganda. I don't know--maybe I did not have a typical religious upbringing--what, with David Barton being my pastor's good friend and college roommate and all, and his freebie speaking engagements at church...sigh.
What is new is that I have turned my back on this. What is new is I am now an adult. I was fortunate enough to have fantastic education which encouraged my faith AND propelled me to think critically. At the same time. Also, I am no longer naive about a lot of things. When this gentleman talked about the Bible condemning a man sleeping with a man, I pointed out that this may very well be in reference to a-na*l sex which we now know is the best way to transmit STD's and at the very least general bacteria which can lead to infection, etc. if certain measures are not taken. Germs and the like were not things that ancient peoples knew anything about. This was probably less an indictment against those who are attracted to members of the same sex than it is a statement on how God is good and He was protecting His people by including a host of laws concerning sanitation. At this, the man chuckled. Chuckled. How, then, do you think ga:y me}n have [sex with each other? he asked me, knowingly. Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, sir? There are other ways to engage in sexual activity, I tried to say in a mature, grown up manner.
Yes, I jumped into this mess. No, I am not complaining. I just wanted them to know that not everyone who opposes them are immoral people with anti-Christian agendas. This I said to him, literally. I love the Lord as well, I explained. Granted, I haven't used that phrase in a while simply because of translation and cultural reasons. But I was being, in that moment, culturally sensitive and I knew my audience.
I'm positive that my phone call did not go into anyone's notes and will not make a dent in their political campaign. But that man knows in his heart that he had a normal conversation today with someone who disagreed with him, but who did not start yelling and being disrespectful, rude, or offensive for meanness' sake. He did, however, engage in an actual conversation with someone who is, at once, evangelical and liberal.