How did that story go? Adam and Eve were in a garden and Eve was tempted to eat an apple that she was told not to eat and God got mad and made them ashamed and also gave them roommates. Right? He decided to punish us eternally by giving us roommates. How is that even fair? Eve ate a measly piece of fruit and suddenly I have to be ashamed of my nakedness and ALSO deal with roommates.
Anyone who has roommates or has had roommates in the past knows that NOTHING good can come of roommates. Meeting them is exciting - a fresh start, a new friend, a future bridesmaid, oh, the possibilities! WRONG. Roommates are AWFUL. They are like a whole other being. Males, females, and roommates.
The summer before my freshman year of college, I anxiously awaited that first email from my new roommate introducing herself and telling me insignificant details like "my favorite color is green," "don't worry, I don't stay up too late," and "you bring the TV, I'll bring the microwave." Instead, my long awaited email arrived in July and went a little bit like this:
"Hi Tessa! I'm -------. I can't wait to meet you! I'm really excited to be going to BU and meeting new people. Do you have a boyfriend? I do! Actually, I guess he's technically not my boyfriend anymore - he proposed last night! Now he's my FIANCE! He didn't have a ring but he's getting me one for Christmas. We've only been dating a month but I keep telling myself, you can't really put a time limit on love, right?" *QUE SCREECHING HALT SOUND EFFECT*
If I could rewind my life, I would go back to 18-year-old Tessa and tell her to GET OUT while she can.
I'd take that email right there as a sign to never live with anyone else, even if it meant living at home with my parents until they managed to marry me off.
(If you're curious in how that situation turned out, right around October, after the purchase of a $8,000 Canary Yellow Diamond Ring, a drunken conversation between my roommate and I was enough to convince her he wasn't the "one," leading in the downfall of the "engagement" and her pattern of bringing home lame eligible bachelors with equally grim futures.)
I'll skip the following four years of many interesting roommate stories and bring you to now. Girls: if you ever get the opportunity to live with a good guy friend, do it. It's the most painless, refreshing, drama-free roommate situation I've ever had. (Disclaimer: don't go around telling people I said to live with a guy you're romantically interested in. That would never work.) The unfortunate part, is that at the last minute of apartment hunting, my roommate and I tried to take on a third roommate. What we ended up with was none other than the devil in a pretty girl's body. And let me tell you, this girl was not in that garden with Eve because she has no shame walking around naked.
I'll spare the details, but between the extreme lies, the alarming comfort she has with sitting around in filth, and the brown hair that clogs the shower drain, I've decided there is nothing I can say I like about her except the fact that her boyfriend has his own place downtown.
I will give her credit though, on her ability to suddenly transform herself into both myself and my other roommate's girlfriend - by suddenly walking into the apartment with blonde hair that shares a striking resemblance to the shade of blonde in my hair, or by walking into the living room baring the same outfit that just-so-happened to be worn by my roommate's girlfriend mere days before....how does she do it?! Props, girl.
Anyway, however the story goes, someone did something wrong to piss God off and make him invent roommates. Because without them, life would be too perfect and we'd all be too happy. Someone did something wrong, and I'm blaming the snake in that garden, the one who tempted Eve to eat the apple, that devil who most likely resides in the room that shares a wall with mine.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Is it just me?
I wish reality was a tangible object so I could take it and hit people over the head with it.
Until recently I've never taken a moment to realize how many people around me who directly impact my life are NOT normal. I'm not talking not normal like, "Oh my God she doesn't like ice cream?? She is so weird!" or "What is she THINKING wearing her hair like that?" or anything to that effect. I'm talking REALLY not normal. People who do things that just make me want to scream, "WHAT?!" in their face and then throw a chair. I'm not kidding. It baffles me how little people understanding the normal workings of every day life. It has taken me a week to get this far into this blog post because I cannot even find the right words to describe the way in which people are so incredibly un-normal.
My friend and I were talking about this yesterday. We listed about 20 people we know and categorized them as normal and not normal (don't judge my copious amount of time - sometimes I get incredibly bored at work). Out of those 20 or so people, we named five who were normal. We were two of them. Congrats to the other three.
If you have to question if you're normal or not, then you aren't.
For those of you still having trouble determining the verdict:
If you think it's okay to spontaneously throw out the perfectly good kitchen table and not buy a new one, you're not normal.
If you think that eating a large homemade meal on Wednesday night and then claiming you've had food poisoning since Tuesday morning is okay, you're not normal.
If you think it's okay to make up an elaborate story with details including new asthma symptoms, a fainting spell, a sliced open forehead, an ambulance ride, and a concussion just so that I will drive you to your boyfriend's house, you're not normal.
In general, with minimal exceptions, if you are a compulsive liar, if you crave attention, if you have an undying need to please people, if you are overly attentive and emotional towards every day occurrences, if it takes you longer than an appropriate amount of time to recover from a mild situation, if you are afraid to commit to anything as little as using the word "we" instead of "I" in a sentence, or if your apathy towards every major incident in life not only affects you but begins to affect the people surrounding you, then...guess what. You are not normal.
Although there are no concrete guidelines to determining whether someone is or isn't normal, it's pretty easy to realize whether someone is living between the lines of normalcy or alarmingly outside of them. There are very few people who teeter on the edge of normal - typically I find people are either one extreme or the other.
I understand that many of you may have made it this far into this post and are now questioning their level of normal. I'm sorry if I've made you question your every day existence but it had to be done. It's time to take a good look at the way you handle situations from an every day occurrence to an unexpected curve ball. Next time you make up an elaborate lie, or cause a major freak-out over nothing, or decide to ignore something that is majorly important to you or the people around you, do all of us normal people a favor - stop and be rational. Think: What Would Normal People Do? The few of us that there are out there will appreciate your efforts.
Until recently I've never taken a moment to realize how many people around me who directly impact my life are NOT normal. I'm not talking not normal like, "Oh my God she doesn't like ice cream?? She is so weird!" or "What is she THINKING wearing her hair like that?" or anything to that effect. I'm talking REALLY not normal. People who do things that just make me want to scream, "WHAT?!" in their face and then throw a chair. I'm not kidding. It baffles me how little people understanding the normal workings of every day life. It has taken me a week to get this far into this blog post because I cannot even find the right words to describe the way in which people are so incredibly un-normal.
My friend and I were talking about this yesterday. We listed about 20 people we know and categorized them as normal and not normal (don't judge my copious amount of time - sometimes I get incredibly bored at work). Out of those 20 or so people, we named five who were normal. We were two of them. Congrats to the other three.
If you have to question if you're normal or not, then you aren't.
For those of you still having trouble determining the verdict:
If you think it's okay to spontaneously throw out the perfectly good kitchen table and not buy a new one, you're not normal.
If you think that eating a large homemade meal on Wednesday night and then claiming you've had food poisoning since Tuesday morning is okay, you're not normal.
If you think it's okay to make up an elaborate story with details including new asthma symptoms, a fainting spell, a sliced open forehead, an ambulance ride, and a concussion just so that I will drive you to your boyfriend's house, you're not normal.
In general, with minimal exceptions, if you are a compulsive liar, if you crave attention, if you have an undying need to please people, if you are overly attentive and emotional towards every day occurrences, if it takes you longer than an appropriate amount of time to recover from a mild situation, if you are afraid to commit to anything as little as using the word "we" instead of "I" in a sentence, or if your apathy towards every major incident in life not only affects you but begins to affect the people surrounding you, then...guess what. You are not normal.
Although there are no concrete guidelines to determining whether someone is or isn't normal, it's pretty easy to realize whether someone is living between the lines of normalcy or alarmingly outside of them. There are very few people who teeter on the edge of normal - typically I find people are either one extreme or the other.
I understand that many of you may have made it this far into this post and are now questioning their level of normal. I'm sorry if I've made you question your every day existence but it had to be done. It's time to take a good look at the way you handle situations from an every day occurrence to an unexpected curve ball. Next time you make up an elaborate lie, or cause a major freak-out over nothing, or decide to ignore something that is majorly important to you or the people around you, do all of us normal people a favor - stop and be rational. Think: What Would Normal People Do? The few of us that there are out there will appreciate your efforts.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Conversation is Sexy
What I see as one of the greatest ironies of the modern woman's life, is that many of us idolize Sex & the City character, Carrie Bradshaw, yet, Sarah Jessica Parker was once named Maxim's "Unsexiest Woman Alive."
Ironic isn't it? The woman we all want to be is actually a woman who many men consider horrendously ugly. Why is that?
Carrie Bradshaw gets what she wants because she knows how to talk. Life ultimately isn't about how you look, it's about who you know. That's what gets you places.
I learned a lot in college. I learned academics, social etiquette, how to handle my liquor (kind of), how to procrastinate and recover from procrastination, but the greatest lesson I've learned is what I learned outside of college. By going out and talking to people, I've learned how to get what I want.
If you ask many people my age what they'd prefer to do on a Friday night, they'd most likely answer something to the extent of going out dancing, clubbing, etc. There's nothing wrong with that. However, I find that in a loud, dancing situation, the only new people you're going to meet are the ones who bump into you and spill your drinks or the sleazy guys who don't respect your personal bubble. The situations I find the most satisfying are ones in which I can socialize with the people around me. It's amazing the people you'll meet when you put yourself out there and talk to them.
Let's go back to our Sex & the City analogy. Everyone loves Carrie. Yes, she's stylish. Yes, she gets a lot of guys. Yes, she has GREAT shoes. But I don't think that's why we idolize her. We idolize her because she knows how to get all of that. She does that by talking. Sarah Jessica Parker's character talks to everyone around her. She's friendly without being obnoxious and she ultimately gets what she wants through talking.
Now take Miranda. If you like her character, congratulations, you're the first person I've met who does. Miranda is awkward, bitchy, and let's face it, annoying. Think about it - ultimately, the reason we don't like Miranda is because she doesn't get what she wants (aka, she doesn't get what WE want). Why not? Guess what. She's the bitch of the group. She shoots daggers with her eyes to those around her. If you think I'm just making things up to prove my point, go watch an episode. She's the most unfriendly of the group and therefore, the most miserable.
Now, I'm not saying everyone go out there and be obnoxiously friendly to everyone around you. That's just annoying and nobody likes that girl either. But pay attention to your surroundings. People like to talk about themselves - get them talking and you'll realize they probably have something to offer you. I can't stress the amount of people I've met at bars, restaurants, on the T, in line for the bathroom, etc who end up being someone of value. Last week I suggested an item on the menu to a man sitting alone at a bar. He turned out to be James Montgomery, a well-known older musician of the "James Montgomery Band" who once headlined a show that Aerosmith opened for. The day after I met James, he had a lunch date with Mick Jagger. Mental note - this is someone you want to know.
The other important thing to note is that after you meet people, keep in touch. Nobody wants to be used. You don't want to meet someone and then four months later be contacted by them because they want something from you. Get their email; follow up the next day and let them know you're glad you met. People appreciate new contacts as much as you appreciate them.
In the end, it's not about how you look. Ask Sarah Jessica Parker, "unsexiest woman alive." Get people talking and I guarantee, even if you find someone has nothing to offer you, they'll still have something interesting to say. People can be captivating if you give them the chance.
Ironic isn't it? The woman we all want to be is actually a woman who many men consider horrendously ugly. Why is that?
Carrie Bradshaw gets what she wants because she knows how to talk. Life ultimately isn't about how you look, it's about who you know. That's what gets you places.
I learned a lot in college. I learned academics, social etiquette, how to handle my liquor (kind of), how to procrastinate and recover from procrastination, but the greatest lesson I've learned is what I learned outside of college. By going out and talking to people, I've learned how to get what I want.
If you ask many people my age what they'd prefer to do on a Friday night, they'd most likely answer something to the extent of going out dancing, clubbing, etc. There's nothing wrong with that. However, I find that in a loud, dancing situation, the only new people you're going to meet are the ones who bump into you and spill your drinks or the sleazy guys who don't respect your personal bubble. The situations I find the most satisfying are ones in which I can socialize with the people around me. It's amazing the people you'll meet when you put yourself out there and talk to them.
Let's go back to our Sex & the City analogy. Everyone loves Carrie. Yes, she's stylish. Yes, she gets a lot of guys. Yes, she has GREAT shoes. But I don't think that's why we idolize her. We idolize her because she knows how to get all of that. She does that by talking. Sarah Jessica Parker's character talks to everyone around her. She's friendly without being obnoxious and she ultimately gets what she wants through talking.
Now take Miranda. If you like her character, congratulations, you're the first person I've met who does. Miranda is awkward, bitchy, and let's face it, annoying. Think about it - ultimately, the reason we don't like Miranda is because she doesn't get what she wants (aka, she doesn't get what WE want). Why not? Guess what. She's the bitch of the group. She shoots daggers with her eyes to those around her. If you think I'm just making things up to prove my point, go watch an episode. She's the most unfriendly of the group and therefore, the most miserable.
Now, I'm not saying everyone go out there and be obnoxiously friendly to everyone around you. That's just annoying and nobody likes that girl either. But pay attention to your surroundings. People like to talk about themselves - get them talking and you'll realize they probably have something to offer you. I can't stress the amount of people I've met at bars, restaurants, on the T, in line for the bathroom, etc who end up being someone of value. Last week I suggested an item on the menu to a man sitting alone at a bar. He turned out to be James Montgomery, a well-known older musician of the "James Montgomery Band" who once headlined a show that Aerosmith opened for. The day after I met James, he had a lunch date with Mick Jagger. Mental note - this is someone you want to know.
The other important thing to note is that after you meet people, keep in touch. Nobody wants to be used. You don't want to meet someone and then four months later be contacted by them because they want something from you. Get their email; follow up the next day and let them know you're glad you met. People appreciate new contacts as much as you appreciate them.
In the end, it's not about how you look. Ask Sarah Jessica Parker, "unsexiest woman alive." Get people talking and I guarantee, even if you find someone has nothing to offer you, they'll still have something interesting to say. People can be captivating if you give them the chance.
“They say life's what happens when you're busy making other plans. But sometimes in New York [or Boston or LA or Chicago or Austin or Atlanta...], life is what happens when you're waiting for a table.”
-Carrie Bradshaw
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Perfectly Lonely
"When are you gonna get a new boyfriend?"
Those words come more often than not from none other than my own dad. This may seem odd; traditionally, dads are the ones standing by the window with a shotgun scaring off every man who tries to court his daughter. Not mine. Now, I know that my dad isn't really concerned about me having a new boyfriend. It's kind of like when he tells me my butt is getting big - he's just teasing me (I hope).
Here's the thing. I'm getting to the age where people are starting to settle down. It's the beginning of that time where you justify buying expensive dresses with the fact that you're sure there's a wedding in the near future you'll be able to wear it to. Don't get me wrong, I'm not ready to get married and I'm pretty sure my dad isn't trying to marry me off quite yet either. It's just that time of life where you think about things like that more often.
So people start to worry that I'm still single at 23. Which is odd, because I'm not really that worried myself. They say, "there's NOBODY you're interested in right now?" Not really. My parents are both in the psychology field. I believe I've inherently been taught to look at people not just as who they are, but how they've been affected. What has happened to this person to make them like they are? What incidents in their lives give me a clue as to how I'll be treated; how I'll end up in the situation. I am going to dissect a person to the fullest, to find out everything I need to know about them in order to put my trust in their hands. Maybe it's selfish, but I know it's necessary.
The thing is, I am lucky enough to have my parents as an example of how to treat a relationship. My parents still hold hands, go on dates, etc. They are the ideal couple. They are the prime example of how to do it. They are what I want to have. So it's their fault I'm single - and that's not a bad thing. I'm picky. My parents unknowingly set my standards to high levels and I'm not going to budge. I don't want just anyone. My parents taught me better than that.
So, Dad, I don't know when I'm going to get a new boyfriend. (And I hope you're still joking about my butt getting big.) But just like you drilled into my head that I should never end a sentence with a preposition, that I should always have cash on me at all times, and to put my milk in the mug before the coffee so you don't need a spoon to mix it, you've also showed me how to do it - how to pick the right person and make it work. They say you marry someone like your dad and when I do, I know I'll be in good hands.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Girls. Are. Crazy.
I'm a girl. And girls, you're making me look bad.
I have a handful of girl friends. I love them to death and I cherish every little thing about them. I think they are beautiful on the inside and out. There's a few, and that's it.
I have a lot of good guy friends. This is a great thing. It gives me some wonderful insight on how we, as girls, are being looked at from the outside - from men. And honestly? When I remove myself from the situation and look at girls as a whole, I may as well be looking at a creature from another planet.
Take away the shoe obsessions, the vanity tables, the curling irons, the gossip magazines and just take the girl, plain and simple. She's still crazy. Girls are obsessive and clingy and awkward and impulsive and just plain obnoxious. Girls are so incredibly obvious in their desires. It's like they are made of glass. Transparent. Really, what do they see in us??
Girls, calm down. It sucks when a guy overlooks you. It sucks when they worship you one day and step on you the next. We know. We've all been there. But guess what. Throwing a tantrum of text messages is not going to make them want you again. 50 text messages with no meaningful content are just going to annoy him. Men are simple. (Too simple.) If you are mad at them, say so, and not in a text message. If he doesn't want you to be mad at him, he'll fix it. If he doesn't care, he won't. If he doesn't fix it, take a hint, move on.
Side note: Text messages are an art. They require thought, skill, and technique and they are not to be used lightly. Think of a text message as a kiss. If you kiss someone once, really nicely, its meaningful and memorable. If you kiss someone 50 times in three minutes, it's annoying, sloppy, repetitive, and it diminishes all meaning in the act. A text message is the same. If you text someone nicely and you get no response, give up. DO NOT DOUBLE TEXT. If you got denied a kiss, would you in turn kiss them repetitively, hoping they'd change their mind? Doubt it.
I could write a whole book on how to move on. How to not be crazy. How to keep your mouth shut and your fingers off the keys. Learn to keep yourself slightly detached. Don't invest everything you have into the guy who asked for your number at the bar. I'm not saying I'm a pro at this, and I'm not saying I'm not crazy. All girls are crazy, but I work at hiding it. You should too. You are scaring them. My best friend (guy) wants to stay single until his 30s. Look what you did to him!
I can't tell you how many times I see my guy friends get texts from girls where he just rolls his eyes and puts his phone away. Or starts a rant about the last insanely psychotic thing she did or said to him, questioning me as to why she did that. "What is she thinking?" or "I think she thinks we're dating." Guess what, Girls. If you "think" you're dating, you aren't. If you think you're the only one he's "dating," you aren't. If you've established the fact that you're dating and you're the only one he's dating, you might be. Good luck.
So girls, please, stop. Think about what you're doing. Think about me, at dinner with my guy friend who takes his phone out and rolls his eyes, or asks me what he should say to get you to stop texting him, or asks me why you stopped talking to him just because there was a picture of him and another girl on facebook. Do you want to be that girl? The one he rolls his eyes at as I dictate a semi-charming message for him to type that holds you over until he feels like dealing with you? Probably not. I promise you, you're making us look bad.
I have a handful of girl friends. I love them to death and I cherish every little thing about them. I think they are beautiful on the inside and out. There's a few, and that's it.
I have a lot of good guy friends. This is a great thing. It gives me some wonderful insight on how we, as girls, are being looked at from the outside - from men. And honestly? When I remove myself from the situation and look at girls as a whole, I may as well be looking at a creature from another planet.
Take away the shoe obsessions, the vanity tables, the curling irons, the gossip magazines and just take the girl, plain and simple. She's still crazy. Girls are obsessive and clingy and awkward and impulsive and just plain obnoxious. Girls are so incredibly obvious in their desires. It's like they are made of glass. Transparent. Really, what do they see in us??
Girls, calm down. It sucks when a guy overlooks you. It sucks when they worship you one day and step on you the next. We know. We've all been there. But guess what. Throwing a tantrum of text messages is not going to make them want you again. 50 text messages with no meaningful content are just going to annoy him. Men are simple. (Too simple.) If you are mad at them, say so, and not in a text message. If he doesn't want you to be mad at him, he'll fix it. If he doesn't care, he won't. If he doesn't fix it, take a hint, move on.
Side note: Text messages are an art. They require thought, skill, and technique and they are not to be used lightly. Think of a text message as a kiss. If you kiss someone once, really nicely, its meaningful and memorable. If you kiss someone 50 times in three minutes, it's annoying, sloppy, repetitive, and it diminishes all meaning in the act. A text message is the same. If you text someone nicely and you get no response, give up. DO NOT DOUBLE TEXT. If you got denied a kiss, would you in turn kiss them repetitively, hoping they'd change their mind? Doubt it.
I could write a whole book on how to move on. How to not be crazy. How to keep your mouth shut and your fingers off the keys. Learn to keep yourself slightly detached. Don't invest everything you have into the guy who asked for your number at the bar. I'm not saying I'm a pro at this, and I'm not saying I'm not crazy. All girls are crazy, but I work at hiding it. You should too. You are scaring them. My best friend (guy) wants to stay single until his 30s. Look what you did to him!
I can't tell you how many times I see my guy friends get texts from girls where he just rolls his eyes and puts his phone away. Or starts a rant about the last insanely psychotic thing she did or said to him, questioning me as to why she did that. "What is she thinking?" or "I think she thinks we're dating." Guess what, Girls. If you "think" you're dating, you aren't. If you think you're the only one he's "dating," you aren't. If you've established the fact that you're dating and you're the only one he's dating, you might be. Good luck.
So girls, please, stop. Think about what you're doing. Think about me, at dinner with my guy friend who takes his phone out and rolls his eyes, or asks me what he should say to get you to stop texting him, or asks me why you stopped talking to him just because there was a picture of him and another girl on facebook. Do you want to be that girl? The one he rolls his eyes at as I dictate a semi-charming message for him to type that holds you over until he feels like dealing with you? Probably not. I promise you, you're making us look bad.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Oops.
So I realized my first and last post was over three months ago. Oops. Apparently I'm not a very loyal blogger.
I'm going to go ahead and blame it on Twitter.
The thing about Twitter is that I only have to dedicate a few minutes of my time to come up with 140 clever characters to tell 100 something people what I'm doing/thinking/feeling/seeing...etc. I can tweet on-the-go on my phone, in the car, at work, in the grocery store, on a date, in a matter of seconds. I can even add a photo to give my 100+ readers a visual of what I'm talking about. It literally takes 2 minutes to do it all.
With a blog, I have to commit time. I have to think about what I want to write and how to say it so that people will be interested. Nobody wants to read a blog post that looks like this:
"I'll be honest. I'm trying out Bing for a while, mostly because it reminds me of Chandler."
[my last tweet]
But for some reason, people will read it in Twitter. In a blog, it's a waste of time. In Twitter, it's profound. Why? Maybe because in a blog, the reader has to make a commitment. They have to make a commitment to my blog, and my blog only. They have to leave the website they were on before, to commit their time to ME. And then they read that up there ^ and they are ultimately disappointed. Because they commited themselves to me, and that's all I gave them.
But in Twitter, there's no commitments. They can read my 140 characters about Bing being compared to Chandler, and .5 seconds later, they get to read someone else's 140 characters about how it's raining outside (why bother to look out the window?) and .5 seconds later, they can read their favorite celebrity's tweet about how they're eating their favorite kind of ice cream. No commitments neccessary.
So in the end, that's what it's all about. Commitment. I can commit 30 minutes to typing a 4 paragraph blog post that maybe four people will read, or I can commit 2 minutes to typing 140 characters and even getting to add a picture for my 110 followers to see. And readers can learn about my life, without commiting, by reading my one sentence tweets.
So for those of you with problems with commitment: branch out and remember the Starbucks, The Way I See It # 76:
The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating – in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as a rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.
I'm going to go ahead and blame it on Twitter.
The thing about Twitter is that I only have to dedicate a few minutes of my time to come up with 140 clever characters to tell 100 something people what I'm doing/thinking/feeling/seeing...etc. I can tweet on-the-go on my phone, in the car, at work, in the grocery store, on a date, in a matter of seconds. I can even add a photo to give my 100+ readers a visual of what I'm talking about. It literally takes 2 minutes to do it all.
With a blog, I have to commit time. I have to think about what I want to write and how to say it so that people will be interested. Nobody wants to read a blog post that looks like this:
"I'll be honest. I'm trying out Bing for a while, mostly because it reminds me of Chandler."
[my last tweet]
But for some reason, people will read it in Twitter. In a blog, it's a waste of time. In Twitter, it's profound. Why? Maybe because in a blog, the reader has to make a commitment. They have to make a commitment to my blog, and my blog only. They have to leave the website they were on before, to commit their time to ME. And then they read that up there ^ and they are ultimately disappointed. Because they commited themselves to me, and that's all I gave them.
But in Twitter, there's no commitments. They can read my 140 characters about Bing being compared to Chandler, and .5 seconds later, they get to read someone else's 140 characters about how it's raining outside (why bother to look out the window?) and .5 seconds later, they can read their favorite celebrity's tweet about how they're eating their favorite kind of ice cream. No commitments neccessary.
So in the end, that's what it's all about. Commitment. I can commit 30 minutes to typing a 4 paragraph blog post that maybe four people will read, or I can commit 2 minutes to typing 140 characters and even getting to add a picture for my 110 followers to see. And readers can learn about my life, without commiting, by reading my one sentence tweets.
So for those of you with problems with commitment: branch out and remember the Starbucks, The Way I See It # 76:
The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating – in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as a rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Take One....
Ah! My first blog post.
I'm not too sure which direction I plan on going with this yet...and I'm hoping my thoughts are interesting enough to hold my own attention - nevermind any potential readers of this blog. But anyway!
I haven't written in a blog since my livejournal days back in high school. If you ever had a livejournal as a teenager, you know the extent to which it ruins lives - it creates more petty drama than you would ever think possible from a simple website of "today I..." entries. It was the original juicy campus and quite possibly the inspiration for the book series/TV show "Gossip Girl."
So, long story short - I promise not to make this into an ego-damaging, friend-ruining blog. That's all I can promise about the direction this blog will take.
Stay tuned!
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