Almost there.

As I leave for Ireland in the coming days, I have less baggage to carry than I would have one year ago. I've been a light packer for a long time now, but never in my adult life have I carried less with me as I traveled than on this trip. Because this trip I am 54 pounds lighter. Given that the limit for luggage weight is 50 pounds, this means I am slightly more than one whole suitcase lighter. If only that meant they allowed me an extra 50 pounds for souvenirs on the way back.

I recently went back to look at older pictures, including the pictures that finally motivated me to start Weight Watchers last October (the one on the left above is The Picture). I'm pretty excited about the change, and can't wait to have good pictures to bring back from Ireland! I can't measure my self-worth based on how I look, and I don't base my perceptions of others' worth on their looks, but it's hard to deny that I feel a lot more confident now as well as healthier. And I certainly don't dread looking at pictures of myself like I used to. So it's all to the good.

Now I just have to hope I have the luck of the Irish when it comes to keeping it off during a month of travel!

The Language Police

All the recent talk about the new rules for textbook curriculum out of Texas has me fairly steamed as folks who know me well will be unsurprised to hear. The old "it's not biased when it is our view" line seems to be rearing its head. However, I'm not so biased myself (not that I'm unbiased, mind) that I see the problem being caused only by the right. In fact, there is a larger problem of both ahole wings of the political spectrum unduly influencing the terrible, toothless way that our children learn about history. A couple of excellent books come to mind that highlight this bipartisan ineptitude:

1) "The Language Police" by Diane Ravitch is an excellent look at how these things have crippled education from the left (in California) and the right (in Texas). These two states are shown to be responsible for a large part of the material covered in the entire nation's textbook choices because these two states purchase the most number of books. Money talks--there's a history lesson for America. Ravitch is a former Assistant Secretary of Education.

2) More commonly known is "Lies My Teacher Told Me" by James Loewen. This is a more narrative book, retelling the common stories of American history in a more historically accurate way as compared to the way history textbooks cover them. Loewen argues that the toothless and boring telling of history in K12 history textbooks is a result of left- and right-wing groups taking the complexity of events out of children's hands. As a result, children are unable to develop critical thinking skills and an ability to understand current events from any kind of accurate historical context. He is sometimes kinder than Ravitch, arguing that the review boards may be "well intentioned." I would argue otherwise...on both sides. Loewen is a former history teacher.

3) "A People's History of the United States" is another classic by Howard Zinn, but this one is not as impartial. :) Zinn was a strong social critic and activist, with a heavy tilt toward the left. However this book is meticulously footnoted and strongly argued. He also has the decency not offered by many left- or right-wing authors to lay out his bias at the front. He said in the introduction that his book is no more impartial or neutral than any other textbook or history book..but it's no less so, either. All history books take a perspective, but the perspectives he writes about--of the downtrodden, the losers, the poor--are rarely truly covered in more traditional history books.

Today is Geek Pride Day. Here is a sampling of my geekhood. :)

Interpretation

Now I'm feeling all bloggy, so I'm writing again. I feel compelled by two recent events to think through some things.

First off, an old friend from high school mentioned my rather cynical Valentine's Day entry, both to confirm my feelings and provide me with some new perspectives to think through. I really appreciated the response, and it has helped as I've mulled it over. I'm feeling a little less cynical.

Then, around the same exact time he was writing, I was hanging out with some friends--the twins' mom and dad, actually! Yay, twins! Anyway. We were talking about my lack of serious dating potential in the area, and I was set to be all jaded as usual, and then my friend said something nice. She told me that she had hope for me and what lays ahead. It made me feel good.

It took a few days for those two events to collide, but they've just done so as I've partially drifted off to sleep and back into wakefulness. In my jaded Valentine's Day post, I said how I hated when people tell me to be patient or that "it will happen" because it sounds so condescending to me. Yet, when my friend told me she had hope for me, I felt really good. I got to wondering what the big difference is between those statements that would lead to such different emotional responses on my part.

It is this:

The former statements feel condescending because they sound like the kind of thing you would tell a kid who wants a new toy. "Just ask Santa and you'll get it!!" We always say stuff like that to kids, along with telling them to ask God, or to be patient, or whatever. I interpret all these things in the same way.

The latter is not condescending because it sounds like the speaker's own personal feelings of hope and positivity on my behalf. It's not a pat on the head but a statement of personal conviction or positive energy toward how the speaker sees my fate. I interpret that as similar to a more adult compliment or statement of faith in me as a person who is capable of great things...and deserving of having great things happen to me.

I teach my students about how communication is part intention and part interpretation. I argue that interpretation is more than half of meaning making in interpersonal interaction. It's the primary force, actually, at least in my opinion. So while the intention of speakers in both these categories of statements are the same ("Chin up, Dena! Great things may be in store for you!"), their interpretation by me--and hence their practical meaning--is radically different. One instills a sense of camaraderie, the other a sense of superiority/inferiority.

So if you're looking to cheer up a single friend (or anyone about anything!), think through the interpretations of your words. What might you say to help them persevere? Try expressing your own personal hope for their future.

Balance

Saturday, May 15, 2010, was a day of universal balance. Three things happened that symbolized the true essence of existence in my little version of the world.

1) My friends' twin babies were born. The start of new life, and more importantly new life that I will be able to spoil and cuddle, began on Saturday. The twins were long expected and eagerly anticipated (not least of all by their mom who lugged them around all those months), and I can't wait to be part of their lives.

2) I watched several students I know graduate from college, finally ending their childhood in a real and significant way. While technically they have been adults for several years, it's that college graduation and entrance into the career world that really makes the transformation complete. In the coming weeks, months, and years, they will be building their adult life, along with all the intensity and randomness of the middle years.

3) My great uncle, Leonard, passed away. Mere hours before the emergence of the sweet new babies who entered the world, the world lost a great soul. Uncle Leonard was sweet, kind, and loving. He and his wife have been like a third set of grandparents for me my whole life because we celebrated Leonard's and my dad's mutual birthday every year. Leonard gave great bear hugs and loved to tease. His absence from the world is the world's loss.

All three of these things happening in one day makes me keenly aware of how time waits for no one, that we're not in control of the meandering life cycle, and that each phase of life has its small place of importance in the ongoing line of history. But even its importance is overshadowed by the relative brevity. We are who we are for as long as we are, and when we transition from life on earth to whatever comes next, we know there is someone (or, in this case 'someones'!) who will replace us and carry time forward.

In my life, right now, these new babies are delightful symbols of life moved on after the loss of another life I loved. They mean to me that I have to keep moving through the cycle in the same way that my uncle Leonard did before me and that they will after me. Leonard would love this connection of life as much as I do. Because he understood that's the balance of things.

Oops.

So I haven't been posting again. I just get a little distracted. But I'll go ahead and post today about some things that really irk me about friendship and relationships.

1) I'm more often single than not (alas), and I get really tired of being the backup friend. I'm good enough to go out with, travel with, talk to...until someone with a penis comes along. Then I'm relegated to backup status. I only get asked to entertain you when the penis-bearer is unavailable. I'm supposed to accept this as normal, reasonable behavior. To understand. To be encouraging and supportive. And then, when you break up, I'm supposed to come running back to you to help you through it and then be grateful that you suddenly have time to hang out with me again. I'm not. I think you're a jerk when you do that. And I feel very small and pathetic, like I'm a homeless dog who should be grateful to eat whatever scraps are thrown its way.

2) Don't tell me (or anyone) to "just be patient" or "it will happen." It might not, and patience won't help if it's not going to happen. It's patronizing and insulting. It sounds like pity, and I don't need any additional pity. I have enough self-pity without you adding to the mix. Thank you.

3) Don't tell me how you so often wish you were single again so you could just go out and have fun whenever you want. Bullshit. Single people aren't going out and having fun all the time, living some sort of crazy fabulous life. We're home a lot, and when we're out, we're often the third wheel. You no more wish you were single again than I wish I were a meth addict. Don't patronize me. (Are you sensing the theme?)

4) Stupid restaurants that offer buy-one-get-one-free coupons or deals frustrate me. I don't need two meals, thank you. I would very much like to have a 50% off meal, though, which is the economic equivalent. So offer me that instead of telling me I can't get a deal because I'm unattached. *I'm looking at you, Subway.*

How's that for a happy Valentine's day? Remember kids, Valentine's Day is VD.

Goals for 2010

1. Stop being negative about so many things. Being negative is a negative thing, after all.

2. Enjoy the crap out of my week in London in March.

3. Keep losing weight till I hit my ideal weight. Then keep at my ideal weight. Also, avoid becoming one of those hyper-paranoid eaters where I watch every ounce of weight and every calorie every day. Just be cool with how I look without being obsessive.

4. Relatedly, find some sort of physical activity that is both good exercise and enjoyable. And that doesn't require good weather, considering where I live.

5. Be more opinionated and independent and less submissive. (Haha. Just kidding.)

6. Be more proactive in my social life. I need to do a better job of seeking out friends and maintaining the friendships I have. I have been pretty bad at that in La Crosse, and it has to stop if I'm going to make a life for myself here.

7. Learn to love house cleaning. Or at least to do it, even if I don't love it.

8. Blog more. (See #5.)

9. Be okay with ending lists on a non-even number. (Goal accomplished!)

Bodily Function and Love

So, it occurs to me that one of the markers of true friendship or familial closeness is the fart. Now, of course, I have a mix of family and friends who will alternately be amused or disgusted by this statement, but it's true. Even the disgusted among my acquaintance have to acknowledge that flatulence is an expression of love. Here's why (with examples).

1) I have heard multiple people tell me the story of their relationships and how a) embarrassed or b) amused they were when they (or their partner) farted for the first time in front of the other. But they always end the story by saying how it made them feel closer because they could relax (in more ways than one).
2) My friend and I were on a little road trip last summer, and the topic of indigestion came up. I told some little poop story (as I am wont to do), and she busted a gut. She was actually a little surprised that I talked so openly and joked about that stuff (maybe she was under the mistaken impression that I am sophisticated), but ever since then we have sent little jokes and stories on a similar theme. It's actually made us (already close friends) a little closer. It's just one of those markers of intimacy, in a weird and hilarious way.

3) Another girl came to my grad school department the year after I did. She seemed nice, but we really didn't visit much. One night we had dinner and found out we had quite a bit in common, so we started hanging out more. The day I knew we were going to be good friends was the day she told me about her fart machine and how she and her friends used it to play jokes on people during their cruise. When I reacted with great amusement, she was a little surprised and glad. She told me she wasn't sure if I would think it was funny. Once I declared it so, she and I became great friends and have shared lots of laughs about bodily functions. It was farts that brought us together. Awww.

4) My family has had fart contests and laughed at poop and fart jokes since I can remember. This includes my immediate family as well as my dad's extended family. And it gives us a kind of camaraderie and sense of fun whenever we're together. You can bet at least once when we all gather someone will make a joke that splits our sides. I can't imagine being in a family that couldn't laugh about that kind of thing.

So there you have it. Eleven years of college, and a Ph.D. in interpersonal communication, and my contribution to the study of relationships=the fart as a marker of intimacy. I'm living proof of the power of poofs (though not in the British sense...look it up).