It's Logical to be Mediocre

Up until a year and two months ago, my life had a definitive plan. Everything was laid out for me. It was simple and logical. Finish high school. Go to college. Join Teach For America. Now that all that is done, I'm lost. I've got no blueprint for life. What society does give me is the idea that I should be dating now, get married, and have 2.5 kids. Then, maybe I can join the rest of the adult population and get a divorce because he/I am having a mid-life crisis or decide "I never loved you." That's the only guidance life has given me.

But that's not good enough for me. I'm a woman who loves my ability to choose, yet I still desperately want a plan in life...just not THAT plan. If God were a life coach laying it all out there for me, I'd tell him "Whoa, Chucko...that doesn't work for everyone. You're gonna have to ditch that generic one and give me one that makes sense for me."

But God isn't channeling himself through Tony Little anytime soon. So for now, I'm stuck trying to pencil in my own plans -- to no avail. Every day is a different mood for me. Somedays I love my job, and I never want to leave Southern California. Other days I can't wait to leave everything that L.A. has.

I've recently decided that all this uncertainity stems from my inability to locate my passion in life. For the life of me, I can't figure out what it is that I love to do. Nor do I know what I'm good at. This week after tiring of writing at the full-time job and having a personal essay (nicely) rejected from a freelance idea I had, I'm feeling that I was never meant to be a writer. Then, I wonder what it was that made me want to be one in the first place.

Generally that traces back to 1st grade when Mrs. M told me I should be one. (See, I told you I liked plans laid out for me) But if she'd never said that, would that be what I thought I had wanted out of life? Would I write if I didn't care what others thought and didn't listen to them?

I don't know...so for now, I allow myself to be a mediocre writer because I'm not sure I love it. And I haven't stumbled upon the next step yet.

Yes, I Know

Of course I realize I haven't posted lately. I want to post a million things. So much is going on in JaynarWorld.

But I'm exhausted. And I have a (freelance) story that must be written.

More TK.

Thinking About It...Dating That Is...

So, I've come to the conclusion (in the last 24 hours), that I should be dating right now. I know I'm very anti-dating, but well, I don't always like going to the gym, either...but I still do that (OK, sometimes) because I know I should.

But I've got two legitimate reasons to put myself out there on the dating scene:
1. After telling some of my recent tales to a friend, she told me I needed to write a dating column. "What??? But I don't date...I hate it!" Which, she told me, was exactly why it would be so much fun and different than the others out there. I kind of think she's right...and I could use a little fodder for my writing...
2. I had a (happily) married person in her 30s today tell me that I should be living up my 20s. She said I should take advantage of the fact that I CAN go out and I CAN date. I won't be able to do those things when I'm married...so, I should start dating like crazy now. My 20s shall be my Mardi Gras before the Ash Wednesday of marriage. That's my new vow.

Now...just where am I going to find these guys? Well, that's been a bit harder to figure out these past few hours. See, I've got a close guy friend who I can't decipher what feelings I have for him. I can see myself marrying this guy in a few years...but I can't see myself dating him right now. I've also recently developed a crush on a balding Kiwi -- don't know when I'll see him next, though. Then, there's a couple of guys that I've met that are SO not who I should be dating -- a 21-year-old with an affection for pot and video games and a male model with a motorcycle who lives on a boat -- but I actually have crushes on them...and at this point, crushes are at least a step in the right direction. Right?

My Country's Been Taken Over

Sad, sad news this week. Thursday morning on my drive to work, I turned my radio station on to 93.9. But it wasn't the normal programming. Country station KZLA (the No. 1 position on my preset stations) had been taken over by Top 40 hits. Yuck. I can get that anywhere. But 93.9 was the only country station I could get in L.A. Apparently parent company Emmis Communications thought the likes of Nick Lachey and Black Eyed Peas would do better for ad sales.

Granted I'm not in the insides of the business, but this seems like an extremely unwise move. I can get Mariah Carey anywhere. But my Rascal Flatts fix? And didn't anyone at Emmis take a look at concert sales lately? According to Billboard's latest chart, four of the top 10 grossing concerts this past week were by country artists...granted they were all the Tim and Faith combo...but that should still say SOMETHING for the genre. Looking at album sales, country music seems to be doing well there, too...so I don't get this take over. And now I have no way to know when the new country songs come out.

To show my frustration, I took 93.9 off my preset stations, and I'll be boycotting the top 40 station. I want my country!

Two Signs To Tell You You're in LA

1.

2. Walking into American Apparel you hear a girl exclaim (to herself), "Ohmigosh! A thong bodysuit! I didn't even know they had them. I've been looking for one!"

The Proust Questionnaire

Your favorite virtue
Honesty

Your favorite qualities in a man
honest, faithful, handy, dedicated, gramatically correct, chivalrous

Your favorite qualities in a woman
honest, caring without a personal investment, self respect, thick skin, judgment avoidant

Your Biggest Flaw
I tend to close myself off from the outside world. No matter how many people I'm around, I can withdraw and be more content with my own thoughts. I wonder if I'll ever truly open up to people.

Your favorite occupation
Oddly enough, I don't know if it's writing. I think editing other people's works is more fun for me. I do want to be a professor, though...

Your chief characteristic
Sarcasm. It serves two purposes...first, it gets people laughing when they first meet me. But then it also protects me from having to fully articulate my feelings.

Your idea of happiness
Making someone else so happy that a hug is in order

Your idea of misery
Being around someone who is in pain...and I can't do a thing about it

Your favorite color and flower
Pink. Snapdragons.

If not yourself, who would you be
I'm not in love with myself, but I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be. The things most lacking in my life right now (direction and true happiness), I don't really see in anyone else's life.

Where would you like to live
Wherever my love and my life take me (i.e. future family and occupation are more important to me)

Your favorite prose authors
George Orwell, Judy Blume, Luis Rodriguez

Your favorite poets
Shel Silverstein, Robert Frost, Tupac, Kanye West

Your favorite painters and composers
Paintings usually bore me; I like photography. Composers: Peter Tchaikovsky

Your favorite heroes in real life
Unfortunately, I put no one on a pedestal

Your favorite heroines in real life
see above

Your favorite heroes in fiction
Does Ariel's father in The Little Mermaid movie count?

Your favorite heriones in fiction
Perhaps it would be Samantha on Sex and the City

Your favorite food and drink
Chile Relleno and lemonade

Your favorite names
Garrett, Grant, Liesel, Mona

Your pet aversion
People who are hypocritical

What characters in history do you most dislike
Rulers who justified their unjust actions

What is your present state of mind
Sleepy...but wanting to bring a change into my life

For what fault have you most toleration
Shallowness and a perceived lack of intelligence

Your favorite motto
This isn't all there is

How would you like to die
Saving someone else from death

Hawking for Men

I think I saw my dream man Saturday night. And, yes, I was the biznatchy girl who repeatedly checked him out although he was obviously with his girlfriend (although I tell myself she could just be his cousin or best friend's visiting sister or something like that).

I didn't tell anyone I was with, though, how hot I thought this guy was. I don't think they would've believed me. Given my past history with guys, one would assume I like preppy or jock-y dudes who walk the typical life path. But, for some reason, I think guys that don't look so straight-and-narrow are fabulous. I've tried the straight-and-narrow, and I think that's why I get bored so easily in dating.

But said Saturday-night guy had a mini mohawk going on. And it was SO sexy. Of course he was cute anyway, but the mohawk just made him my Dr. McDreamy. But I kept it to myself. Last time I reported how hot I thought some tatted-out guy was, nobody believed I would actually date him. Thing is, I really think I would...but I don't think these guys would date me.

Still, though, I'm holding on to the hope that there's a hottie out there with a mohawk, weird piercing, or tattoo (I don't know if a Donkey Kong one counts) that's for me.

Really, Now...Are You Surprised?

Lance Bass has come out of the closet. He says he didn't do it sooner because he didn't want to jeopardize 'N Sync's popularity. So, I guess with Justin Timberlake's new song and album, he knew the band wasn't going to be doing anything together anytime soon and decided now would be a good time to talk about his boyfriend.

I loved 'N Sync...and still do (and love JT's new song). And I obviously still would have been an 'N Sync fan 10 years ago if Lance had said he was gay. I mean, we all pretty much knew it way back when. I remember seeing him on a Disney special before they were even popular and thinking "this guy is gay." For some reason the horses he chose to stand in front of for his interviews just seemed to say that he was, well, gay. It's going to be interesting, though, to see him actually playing a gay character on his upcoming TV try. I really don't think his character will be any different than how we saw him in interviews or videos.

Two Revelations

1. I LOVE Rascal Flatts. I'd forgotten how much I loved this band until I saw them in concert this weekend. I'd seen them perform a couple of songs at a festival a couple of years ago, but this time they were the headliners and were awesome. Sitting there in the audience, I could forget about all that was on my mind. And when they played their older songs and a few covers, I was taken back to days long gone.












2. Vegas is for trash. So, I doubt this revelation is all that groundbreaking for you, but it was something that I just realized. On my fourth trip to LAS in three months, I finally saw just what Vegas was. I'd heard people in the past call Vegas a theme park for adults. That description is quite fitting because, let's be honest, theme parks don't really have the top o' the class. (And yes, I realize that I have spent many days/nights in theme parks AND Vegas...)

The shows in Vegas are nothing more than glorified peep shows (which are just down the strip from the not-so-glorified ones); the casinos, pools and hotels are brimming with sluts, smoke and sweat; and the bars pander to the wannabe wealthy. I mean, really now. Those VIP rooms aren't filled with real VIP but guys who live beyond their means and know they can only get into the club if they reserve a VIP room or cabana. (It's not the 80s anymore. Real luxury and VIP status can't be bought. If you have to buy it, that's just even more proof that you're not a VIP.)

But the sad thing is that most of the people who go to Vegas can't see that they're trash. (Me? I realize I've got some trash to me...I mean, my mom's family has quite a bit of redneck history.) They think that their money or clothes or family name keeps them from being trash. But really, they're just trashy folk with money, nice clothes or a well-recognized name.

Million-Dollar Smile

So I just went to the dentist today for my second time this week. Between the two visits, I had 15 gazillion cavities filled. (I bet you didn’t know that I even had 15 gazillion teeth, eh?) Despite the physical pain and monetary pain involved with having cavities filled, I’m still smiling.

No, I’m not going crazy just yet. I’m happy, you fool. Why? After spending the last six months on my company’s dental HMO plan, I had become frustrated with the shady and unclean dentists. I’d found myself shopping around for dentists based on their prices — which is never a good way to find someone who’s sticking their stuff in your mouth. The first dentist (without even looking at my teeth) told me I had 30 gazillion cavities, and that I would have to pay for everything out of pocket. What? The second dentist told me I had no cavities, but the place had graffiti on the door, and the hygienist had stains on his smock. Not the best experiences…

So after talking to an office manager in a dental office and my insurance company, I realized just how much better switching to the PPO was. It wasn’t any more each month, and I actually got to choose my dentist — or switch any time I wanted. And I’d actually save money if I had anything other than x-rays done. Knowing that I had a few cavities (I could feel them), I got on the PPO. I also got a great dentist with a clean office. And I saved $1000 by having my cavities filled under the PPO. And I’ve got a smile that isn’t worth a thousand dollars.

Happy Belated Birthday, America!

Here's how I spent my 4th of July...some of the photos are mine, but some I snagged from my friend Emily's online album. So, if there are some that are low-quality, I apologize -- but that was the only way I knew to do it, so you didn't see 30 pics of her and her fam before you got to me. (I mean, I know that's the only reason you'd look here -- seeing me, right?)

In summary I got sunburnt at the beach, partied with the bankers, swam, surveyed white boys about porn, and watched the fireworks.

I Don't Get It...or Maybe I Do and Don't Like It

The Asian fetish. For a reason that will go unstated, my roommate Amie and I took a small survey yesterday of where some white guys get an Asian fetish -- and whether or not that should keep me from dating them.

Our first two specimens -- two 18-year-olds -- confirmed my belief, that yes, Asian girls according to porn have been depicted as liking to have sex in a um, compromising position. Trying to convince me, though, that that couldn't be the only reason white guys have an attraction to Asian girls, Amie prods out of them that there is some draw to the "exotic" look and that Asian gals tend to age well.

My argument, however, is that it's creepy to date a white guy who grew up around white people but whose last five girlfriends were Asian. It's not the same as saying "I like blondes," "Younger guys are so cute," or "I just like dating tall guys." Why is it different you say? Because it's not just a preference -- there's a whole underlying issue there. It's not just one physical characteristic -- it's a whole race thing, cultural thing, and East-West belief thing. And even the physical things we're attracted to tell us about ourselves -- as girls, maybe we like tall guys because they make us feel safe when we're in their arms, younger guys because we can boss them around or we're afraid of aging, or blondes because they fit into the media-driven ideal of the "beautiful" person. So, what does "preferring" a whole race say about said guy?

There's also the fact that Asian females have been objectified in mainstream (which in America is pretty much white) media in a way that other females haven't. As my friend Jennifer noted in a recent article, Vince Vaughn's character in Wedding Crashers makes a comment, "She was my first Asian" when talking about a girl he slept with. Funny? Yes...but it's something that is said about Asian girls that would never be said about black girls or latino girls. And as a short person, is a good pick-up line for you, "Hey! I LOVE short girls" while staring at you? No. Nor is "Dude! I LOVE blondes." But this is the crap I had to deal with way too much with the country bumpkins in rural Missouri. And as one who grew up hearing those trashy pick-up lines, I know that a lot of guys in cities are thinking the same way but are just a little more well-spoken.

And perhaps I know that I'm so much more than what race I am. I have depth, personality, and spunk (that's what I like to call it). And that's what I look for in guys. If you took all my past dates, crushes, and pseudo-boyfriends, you'd be hard-pressed to find much in common with their looks or interests. I like them as people, not because they're 6'6" or 5'8" or because they're American or Bulgarian or because they're white or brown. I like the person. I expect my partners to be the same way.

In reality, though, I guess it doesn't matter whether or not a possible boy has had zero or 15 Asian girlfriends, but what does matter is how I feel around him. If he makes me feel objectified for any reason, I'm gone. Or if he brings up that compromising position, that might make me leave, too.

Coffee Talk Topics

1. There are no more Hand Jobs in Redondo Beach. One of my original roomies is leaving LA tomorrow morning for med school. Even though we didn't hang out much the last two years, I'll still miss her. We had dinner tonight and were taken back to our first year here -- when there was a car wash a few blocks from our house called "Hand Job."









2. There are more current NBA players than there are working television writers. While reading Drew's blog (the first one in like ten years) today, I was reminded of this random fact I heard over the weekend. I have no proof of this, but I believe it to be true.

Five Years Ago

At about this time five years ago, I was sitting on a plane waiting to come back to the U.S. I'd just spent the last five months in Australia, but my time was over. Sitting on the plane, I read a letter my friend Casey had written me and instructed me not to read until I'd at least boarded the plane.

As I read her words telling me how much I'd meant to her, tears began to roll down my cheeks. It was the second time I'd cried in the last few days -- the first time was when I'd said goodbye to one of my good "friends" who I'd realized wasn't just a friend after all. Although he didn't see me cry when I left him in my parking lot, he was the first guy that ever made me tear up.

And although I was sad to be leaving Australia, I loved the experience it had given me. At the time I just thought I'd had a great time meeting amazing people and petting "exotic" animals. But as I looked back months later...and now years later, I realize(d) that it wasn't just about feeding 28s, koalas, and 'roos. It changed me in a way that I didn't even think was possible. It opened my mind to what religion truly is; it taught me that karaoke is a blast; it showed me that Americans aren't the world's favorite citizens; and it introduced me to a group of people that I thought accepted me, yet pushed me to grow.

It was all those things that changed me...and five years later I'm just seeing the fruits from that time. It's odd that some of our most life-changing events don't seem so life-changing when we're in the moment.

One Day...

Teach For America has a vision statement: One day, all children in this nation will have the opportunity to attain an excellent education.

It's a simple idea. Equal opportunity. Yet, the more entrenched I became in TFA, the more insurmountable it seemed. It seemed that everything in American politics and society competed with this idea. It seemed that many in education even didn't believe this was possible.

But why shouldn't it be? Why can't huge, nation-changing ideas come to be? I've come to realize that they can happen. Big things can happen. But it takes people committing their lives to it. The great thing about this nation-changing idea is it's taking hold. The nation's best and brightest are clamoring to join TFA, according to yet another article on the program. (Thanks for the link, Amie) And these applicants are not stupid people. They are not the type to just join a "movement" that they believe isn't moving. And from the way Wendy Kopp (Teach For America's founder) talks in her bookOne Day, All Children (which I just finished reading), the program's staff members believe it can happen as well and are committing themselves to moving the mission along.

So, yes, I'm inspired again. I do believe in educational equity. And I even wrote Wendy an e-mail thanking her for starting Teach For America. I'm not as disillusioned with Teach For America as I had been a week ago. And I hope that I will eventually make big changes toward equity. But tomorrow I'll go to work and make no changes. Soon, though, soon...

This Should Be Inspiring...but It's Not

All my roommates have been crazy work out beasts lately. One of them has been waking up early EVERY morning to go to the gym. Crazy girl. Another has been coming home from work every night to run the beach. And me? Yeah, I could tell you who's won every night this week on Jeopardy. That's been my work out. Wow, my brain is tired.

Oh Yeah

And here are some Vegas pics. Edited for content, of course.

In Touch with Mother Nature

This past weekend I went camping in Sequoia National Park. I finally got to use my bed tent for my truck. And I got to hang out with WT. No, not the guy Nina used to date. But General Sherman -- the largest (by girth) tree in the world.

See me and WT here.

Friends 'Til the End?

I've got lots of new people coming into my life lately. There's the new roommate (who may be permanent or temporary), the new co-worker, and all the people I've met in Vegas the last two weeks.

Past all the small talk, I've been trying to figure out how much time to budget for these folks. I mean, do I really want to be friends with all of them? And FYI, I'm not someone who uses the term "friend" loosely (as if I use any term loosely). The new roomie blends in well with the other three personalities of the house. I think it's that Midwest thing -- and she's got a cute cousin who lives in the area (who most likely has cute friends) -- so, we'll probably do alright as friends. Another two I just met offered me tickets to a rock concert with them in Arizona. Kind of tempting...

But as I've been contemplating how to dole out my SO in-demand friend time, I've been thinking about why I'm friends with people...ultimately, and sadly enough, it seems to be because they give me something -- and not just hot guys or hot tickets. But the friends I feel closest to give me a desire to be a better person -- to work harder, to be nicer, to love more.

Really, though...what makes someone a "friend"? Do we usually become friends with someone initially because they have something physical we want (be that an invite to a party, a good-looking roommate, a nice smile that makes us happy)? And do we stay friends because they have something abstract we want or hope that rubs off on us? Or am I the only one? I hope not. Otherwise, I'm a total user, and well, I'll understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore.

...and I'm Spent

Well, not literally. Despite spending eight of my last 10 days in Vegas, I've actually not spent that much money. But I am exhausted. And I'm more than ready to spend a night alone in my room at the beach.

When I get more photos from the ex-roomies, I'll put them up here from Vegas trip #2. (Yes, I've been to Vegas three times this year...and at least one more is to come.)