Yes, it was a rather ‘quick and dirty’ process but hey, when I get an idea in my head, it doesn’t go away until I’ve accomplished it! The idea in my head in this instance was moving. Why move you ask? WELL! I didn’t want to pay for a 2 bedroom by myself and secondly, there comes a time in one’s life when pot smoking terrorist neighbors aren’t even worth the stories anymore. It’s at this point when you realize, it’s time to be your own woman. And my own woman I am!
It’s just me in this one bedroom one bath apartment in the Aves (my SLC living area of choice) and that’s how I’m liking it. Liking it just fine. What’s super fantastic is 1. Top Floor (meaning no more ‘bomp bomp bomp’ Arabian Night dance music vibrating the ceiling at strange hours of the night… and mid-afternoon… and some mornings…) 2. I live in a building chalk full of senior couple missionaries for the LDS Church. Now if that doesn’t give you some level of ease at night, I’m not sure what will. These fantastic little couples are always saying hello, commenting on the weather, and ‘welcoming me to the neighborhood!’ My next door neighbors are two cute little old senior missionary ladies, one of which mentioned quite enthusiastically she had a “grandson in Pharmacy school at the University of Utah dear! Do you go there?” Yes, I do ma'am. And I guarantee you think I’m younger than I am. But hey, Pharmacy school? Can’t be too picky.
Other amenities of this new complex in addition to the plethora of senior missionaries includes a swimming pool, a parking space, and a laundry room that boasts not one but THREE sets of washers and dryers. Can I tell you? I got all of my laundry (and believe me… it was definitely over-due) done in like 3 hours. Cleaned, Dried, put away. That’s the ticket! I’m still close to the Conference Center, the SLC Temple, and all those good downtown things and oh, of course, 1 mile from work. I like to stay within my 5 mile living radius and am accomplishing this very nicely. Sugarhouse seems like too much of a drive these days! This is the kind of downtown habitant I’ve become... I don't 'do' beyond 4th south, 4th West, and the University of Utah. Out of my zone, ya know.
Alright, enough of the antics… let’s have a look shall we? Now the first pictures are from Friday night. That’s right. Me and the now dubbed Queen of Moving and Awesomeness, heidikins, blitzed that business and got EVERYTHING but the furniture moved into my apt by 3:00pm. A feat of incredible proportions to say the least. And let it be noted, if I don’t procure the long hoped for “Jillian Michaels arms” after hauling 5 large boxes stuffed full of books up to the 3rd floor, I give up.
Moving right along...
Here we have the living area... I am standing near the North facing window looking towards the door and kitchen... clearly. And, that longish looking box next to the green wall (my accent color of CHOICE!), just wait and see what wonders that holds! Just wait! (Rug compliments of IKEA)
The Kitchen. This quickly became my favorite area of the apt... it's large... and the granite flooring is awesome. You will notice there's not a dishwasher - but I figure it's just me, right? And again, a fine trade in for pot-smoking terrorists.
My first meal on my first evening in my first 'very own' apt. Natuarlly a Papa Johns delivered thin crust large veggie pizza and Diet Yum. A fantastic inaugural dinner, no?
The Bedroom... sans furniture... like the rest of the apartment on Friday night. The family came up Saturday to haul the 'big stuff...'
The Bathroom. It's connected to the bedroom THUS, all my many guests will have to walk through my room to use the facilities. This, I don't mind. Good motivation to keep the unmentionables hidden away.
And now that you've had the Friday Night tour... I'd like to give you the Saturday night tour. Like I said... 'quick and dirty', that's how I roll.
The Kitchen "after" (oh what's that? Yes, those ARE real fresh flowers on the table. Of course)
Kitchen again. I told you it was my favorite space.
Some entry way Zen. I like people to feel 'at peace' the moment they walk in the door. What better way to do that then with a vintage Japan poster and a book assortment? Nope, can't think of anything better.
The living room. The living room and the bedroom are the most 'not quite done' rooms thus far. Things need to be hung (i.e. TV for one), pillows need to be purchased... that sort of thing. You get the idea though... and should still be ridiculously impressed that it really looked THIS GREAT on the SECOND day.)
Remember that longish box from the 'before' pictures? BEHOLD!!! My most prized possessions! You better believe I built that bookcase! Built it real good! (curtosy of IKEA)
From that North facing window to the door again... yep... good angle
The bedroom. Note the wall decal. Can I tell you how long that took? A very. long. time. That's all you need to know. Naturally, there will be more decor, pillows, options such as that added in the near future (see: Ross, Target, trip this weekend... yep)
Bathroom. Looking a little more spiffy
And finally... the walk in closet. Eat your heart out.
There is however, one very sad mention that must be acknowledged in this whole moving and organizing and growing up process... my new apartment does not allow pets. Yes, it's true. Princess Lila and I have spilt up yet again. We've tried to make it work so many times, but it just seems like we can't get on the same page. I guess it's me, I'm not stable enough for her, ya know? Always moving, always doing this and that, she needs better than that! "It's not you", I tell her, "it's me." Never fear though. My good friend Nicole loves her and wanted to take her. So as of Sunday night, Lila and I have officially spilt up. Sure, we're still good friends and I'll see her now and again. But I think she'll be happier where she's at. In time, she'll see that too.
So there's the new place! Exciting isn't it? I very much enjoy it and am eager to stay put for a little while (for heavens sake!). I'm getting too old to move all the time. There comes a day when you just want a stable place of your own where you can put on your slippers, take your pills, and do a puzzle or watch some MaGyver. Maybe my new senior missioanry neighbors dig Parcheesi. What do you think?!?! Party at my house!
San Francisco emailed me. That's right... the city of San Francicso emailed me. That's what it said in my gmail inbox yesterday "sanfrancicso' like that. It would, naturally, be strung together and not capitalized. I wouldn't expect an email from San Franny to be any other way.
Why did sanfrancisco email me? Oh, they just wanted to update me on the status of my VISA FOR VIETNAM!!! All my materials have arrived and they are accessing my tourist eligibility for Vietnam visitation in... oh... ONE MONTH! I'm sorry I keep yelling at you, but truly, it's hard to contain this exctiment. Just wait until Thursday when we officially enter the month that is listed on my departure date (hint: it's April). There will be much all-caps and much exclamation...ing. My Visa is PROCESSING! I did have concerns - I might mention - that they wouldn't process a Visa for a 'bridge troll?' or maybe... 'gollum?' Because truly Internet and I'm not telling you this for you to say "like... you are so cute I'm sure it's fine" because I PROMISE you.... my Passport picture I sent them (which was a requirement of processing) looks very much like a bridge troll (not so much like those forest trolls you see these days) and the two photos I had taken at Walgreens (note: the day BEFORE a MUCH needed haircut, non-bathed, and hungry (which equals grumpy)) could easily resemble such a loveable character as Gollum. A very angry gollum... vs. the more softly browed Smeagle. Soooo.... I can see their concern. My biggest hope is that if my mythically grotesque pictures make it through Visa-screening, the good checkpoint people in Vietnam will have to make a judgement call when examining my Visa and looking at my face because there's no way it's the same girl. That truly is my heart's greatest desire at this moment... to have my identity questioned in Vietnam. Please bless I don't look like my pictures (shhhh stop those very well-intentioned compliments now... my mom and myself are literally the LEAST photo-genic people alive... so just quiet. We've accepted this ailment and are willing to live with it).
In later news - I moved. Ha. What? Yes... I just dropped that on you rather insensitively. No prep. No asking for 'moving' advice or how to best fit a rather wiley baby cactus into 'something I can move this in without being poked'... Naw. I just went ahead and did it. Packed up my apt and moved on out. Dont' worry, I didn't move far (see: 4 blocks), but it's a more affordable 1 bedroom 1 bathroom still in the beloved downton SLC. Never fear - I have taken 'before' pictures... and when I get home tonight there will be 'after' pictures of said new apt. And then I'll post them for 'you.' Sound good? And don't worry... there are excellent stories, deep thoughts, and explanations that go along with the whole clearly easily made metaphorical action of 'moving.'
So listen, I took this quiz entitled "Who's Your Male Celebrity Soul Mate?" (kinda want to know my female one too!) And because these things are totally legit (wait, what), I decided to let you, Internet, in on who my celebrity soul mate is. (And don't act like you don't indugle in a little ridiculous quiz or two... I'm not above admitting it! Click here... you want to I know it)
Through fingerprint analysis, hair folicule comparison, extensive backgrounds checks, and really, a 15 question quiz asking such deep and thought-provoking questions as, "Beaches or Mountains?" or "Do you want to subscribe to Celebrity People today?"... my celebrity crush IS...... (drum roll)
We both appreciate a good sense of humor, enjoy traveling, live each day to the fullest, and neither of us care to subscribe to Celebrity People.
Eat your heart out. Gerard is my celeb soul-mate. ;) I assume he will be notified upon my completion of this quiz of our deep compatablity; thus our dizzying love affair will begin by spending a day swimming and laying in the sun on the beach (my pick for question #2 - what's your idea of a great first date? I assume it was his choice as well).
Remember when you were a wee girl (unless you were a boy then you won't remember this) and every Easter/Spring you got a bran new springy spring dress for the upcoming season? It was really celebratory of a winter ended and Spring beginning - plus a very good excuse to go shopping for a new dress. And who am I to give up excuses to shop? I ask you! I recall one such dress of yester-year involving large purple and pink flowers, knee length, poofy skirt with poofy sleeves (thank you Anne), and a white lacy bib. Add some lace-rimmed turned down white socks, Mary Janes, and floofed bangs, and I was just as cute as an Easter bunnies tail. My brothers got new Easter (Sunday) garb as well... and I may or may not remember one of those terrible round brimmed 'boy' hats with a ribbon tied around its top and flowing out behind them. I distinctly remember little brother Seth (now 24) looking much like unto a little sissy-sailor one year, complete with afore mentioned hat and blue Easter basket. Poor sap! Pictures will be found... Mwahahahaha!
Well needless to say, whether it be the tradition ingrained in me (and you too, I know it!), or the need to completely rid myself of all things winter, this weekend whilst walking around the Gateway, I felt an over-powering urge to find a new dress for Spring. Naturally, this urge hit me most potently while perusing the beautiful clothing that is Anthropologie. Here's what I found (and subsequently tried on...):
(naturally not a church number without some sort of cream cardigan covering all that skin. Scandal!) Isn't it beautiful? It was beautiful on. And I didn't want to take it off... ever... until (as happens frequently in Anthro) I saw the price. Gulp. Uh... hmmm... no.
Sassy, no? I questioned it when the sales-lady brought it in because 'it looks like you might like this.' And truth be told, Internet, I loved it. What I didn't love was the $298 price tage. W.T.F? Place on hanger... turn away... (I don't know why I think Anthro will be reasonable in any way... the delusion goes on)
Now this dress is cool. I LOVED it on the hanger because of the trippy geometric layering in the skirt. Subsequently, I LOVED it on. I'm still thinking about this one, as it would take not one but two 'church' modifications (see: something under, something over) which does make me hesitate as I perfer modifications to be one OR the other (or none - which then makes it an auto-buy)... and I struggle with the idea of spending mucho moneys on something that requires such 'restructuring.' However, all that aside, this dress is awesome (but maybe not Springy? Eh?)!
My absolute 100% favorite (see: no church modifications required = auto-buy) and Internet, I would've purchased this dress as my 2010 Spring Dress, except... it didn't fit. Like, at all. And not for reasons you'd think (like, they didn't have my size, etc). No. I got my usual size... then one lower... and realized that when I couldn't get any lower, the issue wasn't the size, but rather, I was trying to fit a very 'regular' size dress on a 'short' body. Petite. I needed a petite. Alas. Of course I couldn't give up on it - and checked ye old Internet for petite possiblities. And.... internet fail.
No green dress for me. Life isn't fair for the vertically challanged sometimes (though I do take great pleasure in being able to wear 'short' dresses at 'regular' length when all my tallish friends are just screwed (sorry, heidikins))
Thus the search continues. But now I've got that Spring shopping bug, there's no stopping me until I find that perfect Spring dress! It's likely, since my office is after all, LOCATED at the GATEWAY, there will be a lunch Banana Republic run in the very near (see: 30 minutes) future.
Do you buy Spring dresses? Because you should. Guys? How many of you had those sailor hats? Cause I mock you! :)
(continued from yesterday... I was typing this in class and then I think it started to look a little suspicious... so I stopped. Thus, all the below relates to yesterday... turn your brains back)
First, I woke up hearing the sounds of chirping birdies outside my window. Chirp! Chirp! Chirpy little spring birdies. I found it very Disney-like and expected little mice to scurry into my room to prepare my spounge bath and shine my work shoes.
Alas... only birdies, but I liked the birdies.
Second, I wished I wouldn't have worn my black long car coat as I walked to Jason's Deli for lunch. Yep, rather than grasping around me and buttoning up to my chin - I wished I wouldn't have brought it because I was a little... (ready for this?) WARM! Mmmm... waaaaaaaarm
Third, I ate at Jason's Deli. Num.
Fourth, after learning from my lunch-coat mistake, I changed into a light hoodie for class. I hesitated about this decision - gauging how lucky I could possibly be to only require a light hoodie for my evening class (always freezing...), but uh... feeling pretty good about it! Feeling pretty dang good!Feeling down right comfortable!
Fifth - drove in the bright sunshine to my 6:00 class. Bright. As if it were 5:00 in the afternoon! Oh... I guess 3 days ago it would've been 5:00 in the afternoon. Te he ha. I enjoyed the brightness.
Sixth - Witnessing a man-group hone their man-frisbee skills on a man-field (man-field?) at the U. How is this a bad view? The frisbee I mean... I'm excited for frisbee weather. Ahem.
(continued from the day before yesterday... suddenly I have legit stuff to do... what?)
Seventh - I witnessed a girl eating an refreshing ice cream. Yep. Something you don't usually see when it's freezing outside because it's FREEZING OUTSIDE! Why would you want to be freezing 'inside' as well. I assume because of the warmish sunniness this girl thought "Dammit! I'm getting an ice cream!" Strong work my friend. Strong work.
So take note - those are seven excellent things I noticed were directly related to losing an hour last weekend... well... perhaps at least correlated with losing an hour last weekend. Essentially - it has given me hope. A hope I dared not have after such bleak, cold, miserable weather. But now... now I shall hope! A hope for Spring! Sigh.....
How long after one is 'newly' married... can one still use their bridal pictures for their Facebook profile picture? What are the socially constructed and subsequently acceptable rules for that? As I think about it... I'm going with like a year. I find this much akin to 'How long do you wait after your cat dies to get another cat?' Okay, maybe that's a little different... but you know what I mean.
What if I didn't take 3 classes over the summer semester merely because I want to keep Wednesday nights open for Ultimate Frisbee and Thursday nights open for the Twilight Concert Series at Gallivan? Furthermore, less classes equals more time at the Farmer's Market on Saturdays and more justifiable excuses for weekend camping trips.
Shore - it could set me back another semester - but somehow - I don't care.
Sometimes I get anxious and ansty and think "If I could just jump a plane to Thailand right NOW!" (except I will in two months! YES!). Do you ever feel that way. Like, it's been the same for too long? This is why Utah is good for me - all this changing weather (please bless Spring change cometh soon...eth. Amen).
No really - I have this little 'change-bug' that flares up after I've been in 'routine' for too long (see: one year). So, I'm feelin the bug and not sure what to change up! I mean, some people change jobs I guess. But finding a new job is a ludicrous idea for me because 1. I love my job 2. I really like my job 3. My job pays for school (mostly) 4. Economy = you're damn lucky to have a job let alone one you LIKE, and because I can't speed up or change up school, it is what it is semester in and semester out so that's a solid 6 semester commitment, and because fundage and lack of vacation time allows for a 'drop and go' weekend getaway to San Francisco (which believe me...), I gotta find ways to change up my environment a little! Shake it up. Move about! Kill the ansty little 'change-bug' swarming around my innards! (innards is a weird word. That's what I think).
So I'm thinking two things, 1. I will move to another apt soon-ish as my contract is up in April and frankly, I'd rather spend money on plane tickets then a two bedroom (all be it cute) apt in which I don't really know how to utilize an extra room (extra closet yes... oh yes yes) and 2. Switch wards from Univeristy Student Ward to YSA (young single adult) Ward. What do you think? My bug of change is urging me to do something new and different - and moving seems like a good switch up. Can I tell you? I kinda move alot - and sometimes its because I 'have to' (roomie move out, roomie is crazy, dream adventure trip to Europe fall through) but mostly I think it's because that's how I LIVE. I need to be changing and focusing on something new all the time. Change equals living. Ruts... they don't become me. I'm not sure how to live consistently - and that's a little scary. How do you live consistently? Do TELL! Teach me to just LIVE!
... ... .... I think it's time to leave the library. Yep.
So... I was going to put this on ye old sidebar and FINALLY replace that ridiculous picture of that ridiculous 'other movie' of ridiculousness (oh heck I'm doing it anyway!)... but then I started to think about everything I wanted to say about it. Thus, I guess it deserves a post rather than a mere sidebar mention. That's not to say you need to strap in for a 'rave' review because... well...
It was good. Right? I mean, it was whimsical and fanciful and the acting was great (hello, Johnnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter... tell me how this combo EVER fails), but I dunno. If you stripped away the creativity (Tim Burton - thank you sir), the colors, the whimsy, and the endearing timelessness of the tale, I found it rather... wanting. I wouldn't see it again. And I wasn't impressed with the plot even remotely. They could've done SO much and meh... they did a little here and a little there... to supplement the aesthetic wonderous wonderlandness. Granted, the pure artistry of the film can make up for some plot-holes and weaknesses (and ridiculous dances at the end... one for the kiddies I guess), but truly, something was definitely amiss and no amount of crazy-eyed Johnny Depps or Alan Rickman caterpillars can fully make up for it (maybe Johnny Depp - see Pirates 2 and 3). I wish they would've just done a retell of the classic Alice in Wonderland story rather than trying to mix up characters and create an entirely new story line. Didn't sit. Didn't sit too well at all.
So, I've been sitting on a theory about 'men' for a couple of months (okay years) now. I'm 26, so I've had SOME experience here and there with the male-sex and mostly, it's been a rather negative and truly confusing experience. Well, as far as dating goes it's been a rather negative experience, and that's not because I'm annoyed they didn't work out (though I am sometimes - ha!), but because of what I'm about to tell you.
It's all because of a species I'd like to designate as, Men-Children. Man-child. Boy-men. Late 20 something dudes who still live with mom, in the basement, and love their video games. 30 something dudes who are still, STLL only 2 years into their Bachelors degree and continue working at the Tiki Post Packaging Co. since high school. Men who 'date for fun' still at 31 and have not even fathomed what responsibility, commitment, or healthy dating realtionships means. Men that have always been and will always only ever be, life-long Peter Pans. The boy that never grows up.
I actually never thought of this theory until my last round with one of these now designated 'men-children'. As one does after 'breaking off' any sort of relationship, one reflects upon the whole process. Generally, I reflect on what I could've done better, what I learned from the experience, and what changes I'll make in the future. Lately, I've done some serious reflection not only on the most recent fail (a small e-rejection via email, very sad), but in all my previous fails before that; even in such smaller instances as first dates and non-call backs. And, all these experiences for the most part, have been rather weirdly clossal fails of a somewhat non-conventional magnitude. Like, weirdly pathetic. Sometimes, we (x boy and myself) don't even make it TO the relationship part even after months of apparent 'dating' and mucho "so like, what are we?" confusion. There's been many a day, week, or month where my generally rational brain can not for the LIFE of it, figure out this confusing dynamic which is the male-brain. I mean, you think FEMALES are complicated and confusing (and they are), you should see some of the dudes I've gone out with (see a fore posted online dating excursions.. wow).
Thus naturally, upon reflection, I was inclined to think - well - all these weirdy relationship scenarios (dating and otherwise) happening or have happened to me have one thing in common - me. The common denominator. Clearly, not all of these seperate male individuals can all have something terribley wrong with their brain function and me be the normal one. Right? Logically, humbley, I must accept this evidence. I gotta figure out what I can change to make these weird, very consistent scenarios in my dating/relatioship life stop failing and begin working... even functioning in some relam of normalcy would be acceptable.
And then... it came to me...
Yes, of course there's flaws I can always fix. Yes, there are things about me that I can surely work on. And yes, I am aware I can be rather intimidating sometimes and I get that. But, BUT, other than 'me' being a common denominator in my twilight zone of a dating life to this point, is the type of guy I keep liking. And that guy, is a man-child... but I didn't notice it until now! I didn't notice it because the men-children I go for actually don't appear to be man-children at ALL initially - no! They appaer to have everything nicely in order on the outset: generally they're in school and actually, are very good students (I'm a sucker for the academic), they're good LDS preisthood holders that fulfill their callings and try their best, they're generally returned missioanries, and they all have worthy professional goals (examples: lawyers, professors (hot), geographers, public administrators, etc.). They live on their own (aka with roomies counts), and have enjoyable hobbies that include but are not limited to, sports, outdoorsing, music, and reading. Shore! All these guys seem like bonified men... but guess what?
Emotionally they are still very much emotionally stagnating somewhere between the ages of 12-18. Truly. Emotionally, they're little boys looking for mamma to clean their scrapes and buy them otter pops (and you think I'm kidding... I witnessed the otter pop purchases... yep). What's more - they expect mom to make their decisions for them and led them through their entire lives without making individual decisions about tough things on their own. Emotionally, they can't handle reality - real people - real feelings - and real relationships. It's STILL a fairy-tale to them - and they just want to play cowboy and Indian anyway and not deal with those 'coodie' girls. This realization hit me squarely in the face a couple months ago. The world is filling up with men-children. I finally realized this when I recognized that my attraction to the 'outer-man' made his 'inner-infant' seem endearing and cute. I like some of these guys child-like responses to situations and general carefree, simple, outlooks. Um.... come to find... sometimes... that's not so good. Especially when I'm a grown woman and inside - he's a 12 year old. Yep. Retrospect is always 20/20.
So! You think my theory is based on a 26 year old LDS (UTAHN) single woman's tainted view of dating because (heaven forbid) she's not married or dating? WELL! I can see how you'd think that. BUT, I tell you, I'm not the only one. Perhaps the below article will add some validity to my theory. My good friend Heather sent it my way, and now I submit it to you.
Current economic hardships have had what is called in constitutional law a "disparate impact": The crisis has not afflicted everyone equally. Although women are a majority of the workforce, perhaps as many as 80 percent of jobs lost were held by men. This injury to men is particularly unfortunate because it may exacerbate, and be exacerbated by, a culture of immaturity among the many young men who are reluctant to grow up.
Increasingly, they are defecting from the meritocracy. Women now receive almost 58 percent of bachelor's degrees. This is why many colleges admit men with qualifications inferior to those of women applicants—which is one reason men have higher dropout rates. The Pew Research Center reports that 28 percent of wives between ages 30 and 44 have more education than their husbands, whereas only 19 percent of husbands in the same age group have more education than their wives. Twenty-three percent of men with some college education earn less than their wives. In law, medical, and doctoral programs, women are majorities or, if trends continue, will be.
In 1956, the median age of men marrying was 22.5. But between 1980 and 2004, the percentage of men reaching age 40 without marrying increased from 6 to 16.5. A recent study found that 55 percent of men 18 to 24 are living in their parents' homes, as are 13 percent of men 25 to 34, compared to 8 percent of women.
Mike Stivic, a.k.a. Meathead, the liberal graduate student in All in the Family, reflected society's belief in the cultural superiority of youth, but he was a leading indicator of something else: He lived in his father-in-law Archie Bunker's home. What are today's "basement boys" doing down there? Perhaps watching Friends and Seinfeld reruns about a culture of extended youth utterly unlike the world of young adults in previous generations.
Gary Cross, a Penn State University historian, wonders, "Where have all the men gone?" His book, Men to Boys: The Making of Modern Immaturity, argues that "the culture of the boy-men today is less a life stage than a lifestyle." If you wonder what has become of manliness, he says, note the differences between Cary Grant and Hugh Grant, the former, dapper and debonair, the latter, a perpetually befuddled boy.
Permissive parenting, Cross says, made children less submissive, and the decline of deference coincided with the rise of consumer and media cultures celebrating the indefinite retention of the tastes and habits of childhood. The opening of careers to talented women has coincided with the attenuation of male role models in popular culture: In 1959, there were 27 Westerns on prime-time television glamorizing male responsibility.
Cross says the large-scale entry of women into the workforce made many men feel marginalized, especially when men were simultaneously bombarded by new parenting theories, which cast fathers as their children's pals, or worse: In 1945, Parents magazine said a father should "keep yourself huggable" but show a son the "respect" owed a "business associate."
All this led to "ambiguity and confusion about what fathers were to do in the postwar home and, even more, about what it meant to grow up male." Playboy magazine, a harbinger of perpetual adolescence, sold trinkets for would-be social dropouts: "Join the beat generation! Buy a beat generation tieclasp." Think about that.
Although Cross, an aging academic boomer, was a student leftist, he believes that 1960s radicalism became "a retreat into childish tantrums" symptomatic "of how permissive parents infantilized the boomer generation." And the boomers' children? Consider the television commercials for the restaurant chain called Dave & Buster's, which seems to be, ironically, a Chuck E. Cheese's for adults—a place for young adults, especially men, to drink beer and play electronic games and exemplify youth not as a stage of life but as a perpetual refuge from adulthood.
At the 2006 Super Bowl, the Rolling Stones sang "Satisfaction," a song older than the Super Bowl. At this year's game, another long-of-tooth act, the Who, continued the commerce of catering to baby boomers' limitless appetite for nostalgia. "My generation's obsession with youth and its memories," Cross writes, "stands out in the history of human vanity."
Last November, when Tiger Woods's misadventures became public, his agent said: "Let's please give the kid a break." The kid was then 33. He is now 34 but, no doubt, still a kid. The puerile anthem of a current Pepsi commercial is drearily prophetic: "Forever young."
After reading this I thought "Oh hey! My theory was right!" and then I thought... "ah... crap... my theory was right."
Need some more evidence from a man-observer? I submit the following...
CES Fireside for Young Adults
"In his address at the BYU commencement exercise two weeks ago, Elder Earl C. Tingey referred to an article in a recent issue of Time magazine about young people your age. It states that the years from 18 to 25 have become “a distinct and separate life stage, a strange, transitional never-never land between adolescence and adulthood in which people stall for a few extra years, [postponing] . . . adult responsibility” (Lev Grossman, “Grow Up? Not So Fast,” Time, Jan. 24, 2005, 44). The article describes these transitional individuals as “permanent adolescents, . . . twentysomething Peter Pans” (p. 42). Putting this analysis in terms more familiar to his audience of BYU graduates and their families, Elder Tingey spoke of “the indecision some college graduates have in . . . accepting the responsibilities of marriage and family” (address at commencement, Apr. 21, 2005)."
"...There is another possible contributing factor to the demise of dating and the prominence of the culture of hanging out. For many years the Church has counseled young people not to date before age 16. Perhaps some young adults, especially men, have carried that wise counsel to excess and determined not to date before 26 or maybe even 36.
Men, if you have returned from your mission and you are still following the boy-girl patterns you were counseled to follow when you were 15, it is time for you to grow up..."
Now, don't get me wrong. This isn't a 'blame-game' or 'passing the buck' sort of post. I'm merely observing upon reflection of my very own person experience, that this makes a lot of sense for me. So maybe, it's not ME entirely, but the WHO I am looking for. Now that I know I tend to like emotional man-children, I can begin the process of not liking emotional man-children. Turn on the 'man-child' detector (and now that I have a few under my belt I can recogize the little beasties from MILES away), and just stear in a different direction... with the hope that somewhere out there... there's an actual MAN... and not a 7 year old playmate in a 28 year old mans body... I can eventually bump into. Lets just hope for that..
I’ve been meaning to write this post for awhile. I first thought of the idea of numbering and displaying all my vices when I started setting the DVR for The Bachelor every Monday at 7:00pm. I don’t think I’m the ‘type of girl’ you’d immediately peg for a Bachelor watcher but listen, I so watched the Bachelor last season AND this season and just reveled in the drama! And boy was it high drama THIS season! Vienna?!?! Snap! I was on team Aly the entire time, but in the end, Vienna did kind of grow on me. I get why Jake liked her (apart from he being sorta dumb and she being sorta dumb and likely, she was the girl he wanted to have sex with the most). She definitely had more personality than most of the girls there – even if it was a rather abrasive (aka bitchy) personality. Meh. He’s dumb. She’s hot. And the world spins madly on.
Meanwhile… back to my post…
I have some. A handful… and I’d like to let you in on the secrets…
1. The Bachelor (and you better believe I’ll be DVR’ing….)
2. The Bachelorette (Aly!! aka - the RIGHT choice)
3. Diet Coke (Mmm… and to think at one time I mocked those who constantly had a large big gulp glued to their face. I prefer the cans or resturaunt DC’s… but I have joined the DC club non-the-less)
5. Robert Pattinson. I KNOW! Now listen… I’m a Cedric Diggory fan (Harry Potter 4 for those of you who live under rocks) and seriously, I’m not a crazy vampire obsessed, sexually oppressed weirdy (nor 13 years old). THIS vice just means I find him attractive in a dirty, British way… that said…
6. I want to see the below. I’m not sure why. Can someone tell me why? Or… more to the point… does someone want to come see it with me? Eh? Friends?
7. Procrastination. I’m not as bad as some – but when it comes to reading for school – oh man – I really put that off until the last minute… almost.
8. America’s Next Top Model – fierce! I love this show. Tyra – she could do with some valium, but I like watching the photo shoots and seeing the pics at the end. Saturday all-day matinees on Oxygen! That's where it's at.
9. I don’t like scrapbooking, major crafting, and general “relief society” –esque activities. This is a vice comparative to the culture I inherently subscribe to because of my religion. So… some would say that my lack of scrapbooking and crafting gusto is something to be frowned upon.
10. Jon and Kate Plus 8 drama. This has died down a lot recently – but when it was in full swing – you better believe my roomie and I bought every single magazine the delved into “John’s secret dating life” and “Kate’s controlling ways drive away family and friends.” We were sucked in – sucked in real good! Oh, and now that she’s on Dancing with the Stars (which generally I’m not that into... but now could add as a #11) you better believe I’ll probably start tuning in! At least until she’s booted. Crazy bag.
So there you have it. 10 vices isn't too bad, right? Maybe the Robert Pattinson one… but for some reason… he’s sooooo…. SOMETHING! Sexy? Yeah kinda dirty and British and sexy. He’s so, conflicted! And I’m pretty into his weird crazy hair. Am I right? Junior High screaming tweens? Like, OMG, soooo right! (Minus the vampire disaster… hopefully he won’t be type-cast too badly from that saga. I have hope for him... much like unto my having hope for Lindsey Lohan at one point. Man, now there's a let down).