Linger Longer is the Worst

Wearing a cute outfit to munch and mingle...

Expectation:

Reality:

This is one of those times when I miss having LT around because we would just stand in the corner and eat food and not have to worry about anyone talking to us.

Relationship Post #2: Bound and Rebound

(Listen to this song while you read.)

I was talking about old boyfriends with a friend once, and she asked me if one man I dated was a "rebound" relationship.  It was then that I decided that I disliked the word "rebound."  It sounded cheap, like this was just some rando that I was using to get over the previous boyfriend.  The purpose of this post is to make us stop feeling guilty about rebounding (unless you're treating your rebound person like dirt, then by all means, wallow in shame).

Sometimes after a breakup, we're left with big, ex-shaped holes in our hearts.  They're not the kind of holes that you dig in the dirt, though; they're through-and-through projectile wounds.

Just like this.*

And then the next people come along and try to fill the hole, but like most bottomless holes, everything they put in just falls right out the other end.  They can't fill the hole.

And this is frustrating and we feel guilty because, so often, those "next people" are wonderful and kind and far too patient with us.  But they can't fill the hole.

But then something remarkable happens:  somehow, they mend the hole.  They put the bottom back in, so that it can be filled.  I know that kind of sounds lame.  I mean, we can't be sending these people greeting cards that say "Thanks for being the guy that helped me be ready for the next guy," but that's what they did, and it was necessary.

Sometimes we need people to make us feel something other than despair.  To help ourselves feel that the last person wasn't the "be all, end all" of love and romance.  To help us end a chapter or close a book.  To mend us and put our bottoms back (there is no way to make this not sound weird).  So we can again bound and rebound.



*The perfect .gif for this would have been from the Buffy episode "Primeval" where First-Slayer-infused-Willow/Xander/Giles-hybrid-Buffy punches Adam through the chest and rips out his uranium power source,** but alas, that .gif could not be found, so I had to make do with Spiderman.
**Laura, this isn't a typical scene on Buffy, should this description happen to turn you off from trying out the series.  Season 4 was just weird.

The Body of Christ

Maybe it's because I'm an anatomist, but I really love the scriptures about the Body of Christ.  The fact that I'm writing this post about this topic this week is not a coincidence.

Members of the LDS church--all members--are parts of the Body of Christ.  In this body, sometimes we look at the hand, the beautiful, perfectly-manicured hand, and think that all is fine and healthy.  Meanwhile, there's a big gaping wound in our thigh, but instead of wondering "what's going on here, and what can we do to fix this?" we just focus on how good the hand looks as we lose all of our blood.

I can't pretend to have my ear close enough to the ground (or to Heaven) to know exactly why this is happening, but here is one hypothesis:  members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints are forgetting where the emphasis lies.  Are we caring too much about "The Church" and taking our focus away from "Jesus Christ"?

Those words are bigger than all the other words for a reason, guys.

Despite my scientific, feminist, rainbow-flag-waving, Diet-Coke-swilling ways, I consider myself a pretty "non-controversial" Mormon, but there have been some things about "The Church" that have kind of freaked me out.  I've had less-than-pleasant experiences in the Temple, some of the more political stuff doesn't quite jive with my personal convictions, and there has been many a General Conference address that has sent me into a big depression spiral.  Come to think of it, I've had many experiences that could be anecdotes in my "why I'm leaving the LDS Church" story.

But I'm not leaving the LDS Church.

Why not?  Sometimes I think it would make perfect sense, and I know that few people, even in the church, would blame me for it.  The reason is this:  I believe in Jesus Christ.  Those two words that are bigger than all the other words in the church's logo are the reason I'm still here.  He is my Savior and he died so that he could understand all of my doubts and struggles and crises of faith and that he could help me fix all of my weaknesses and shortcomings so that I can become a little more like Him.  I know that no matter how weird or confusing or frustrating the LDS church can be, Jesus Christ is at the heart of it, and when we let all of the nitpicky, not-really-doctrine-but-its-been-a-cultural-tradition-for-so-long-that-we-assume-that-it-is stuff fall away and just focus on Jesus, we will find Him there.    

Furthermore, I might like to add that the Body of Christ is not on a diet.  We don't have to cut back or cut out to fit into some theological bathing suit.  There's room for everyone.*  Seriously.  Everyone.  That's kind of how the whole Jesus thing works:  He died to heal me and you and my gay friends and my feminist friends and my atheist friends and even the people who aren't my friends whom I don't even like all that much.  So let us be a little bit more like Jesus Christ, the Savior, the Healer.  Let us heal the gaping wound in our body so that we can get back to sitting on the couch, eating Fritos, and becoming a morbidly obese Body of Christ.  

*I really wanted to link to the song from Pete's Dragon, but I decided to keep it churchy.  

Jeremy Messersmith: The Sequel

Last time I went to the Jeremy Messersmith concert, I blogged about it and Peter Sieve, the guitarist in Jeremy's band retweeted it and it made my whole life that day.

Seriously, my whole life.

So, now that I'm reviewing my second Jeremy Messersmith Concert barely four months later, I feel like the pressure is on to write something equally amazing, if not more so.  This reflects how I felt before tonight's show at The Red Room at Cafe 939:  my first Jeremy Messersmith experience was so amazing and wonderful and schoolgirl-esque-giddiness-inducing; what if this one didn't measure up?

Thankfully, that was not the case.

First of all, the venue was amazing.  It was small and intimate, and most importantly, it had couches.  For old souls such as mine, the option of sitting down makes listening to rock music on a school night much less stressful.  The coolest part was that something about the ambiance made me feel just like I was hangin' out at The Bronze.

What accentuated this feeling in my brain (besides my being just a huge Buffy nerd to begin with) was the opening act, Big Scary.  A duo from Australia, they were so great!  They had this amazing ethereal quality to their music, partially because the male and female voices blended so well together.  The woman, by the way, was the drummer, which was just so fantastic.  I watched her through a lot of the pieces and I could tell how much she loved what she was obviously born to do.  I got to chat with her a bit after the show, and she was super nice.

On to Jeremy (I've just decided we're on the first name basis).  Sadly, my phone updated itself and part of the updates include the camera being kind of sucky, so I have no good pictures, but we all know what he looks like.  There were some differences since the last time I saw them.  I believe the drummer got a haircut, for one, and oh yes!  There was a girl on stage!  The keyboardist/backup vocalist had been ill at the last concert but she was there this time.  It was odd at first; I was like "who are you and why are you here?" but I quickly adjusted when keyboard parts would show up and I would think, "now that's what it's supposed to sound like (see below, re: "Knots")."*  All in all, it was great.  Everyone was having fun and the band really connected with the audience and with each other.  Of course, the intimacy of the venue helped, but one still cannot fake being that comfortable and amiable before a crowd of strangers.

Here is the set list with some minor commentary (in probably not the real order because I wasn't a huge nerd who took notes this time):

• "I Don't Trust That Boy to Break Your Heart" (not sure if this is the real title) - This needs to be available for me to download like, now.  So simultaneously cute and clever and sad and beautiful.
• "Tourniquet" - This was their opener last time, so it was kind of strange to have it second, but it was still well done.
• "Lazy Bones" - This song will never stop making me dance like a bobblehead doll.
• "It's Only Dancing" - I can't believe that I forgot about this one!  It's in my top five!  But they played it and it was wonderful.
• "Knots" - It was way cool having keyboards on this song.
• "You'll Only Break His Heart" - I was so convinced that this was going to transition into "Bubbling," like it does on the album, and I got really excited, and then it didn't, and I was disappointed, but only because I love "Bubbling" so much.  
• "I Want to Be Your One Night Stand" - This was probably one of the more fun performances to watch.  Jeremy played with Peter, the guitarist, this time, and they just have such fun chemistry together.  You can tell that they're totally besties in real life.
• "Tatooine" - The first time I heard this live, I didn't remember it.  Now I shall.
• "Scientists" - This song first came into my life after I left a boy I loved to go be a scientist, so needless to say there were some emotions that almost happened.  But hearing it live was wonderful, so it was worth it.
• "A Girl, a Boy, and a Graveyard" - I am cured of this song's ability to make me cry (although it was touch and go coming right after "Scientists"), but I still love it.
• "Call Your Girlfriend" (the Robyn Cover) - I actually had never heard the Robyn version of this song, but I will have to go listen to it now.  I have a feeling I will like the cover version better.
• "Novocaine" - This was actually the first time I had heard this song all the way through.
• "Dillinger's Eyes" - Again, I love how much fun everyone has during this song.  I kind of feel bad for the keyboardist, as she is kind of committed to her location and therefore cannot jam as freely as the guitar holders.
• "Organ Donor" - I will never stop loving this song.  Not until I die and they drain my blood in the mortuary, but even then, my bones will rattle the percussion part.**  My only wish is that they would borrow some random music college string students to accompany them next time they come to Boston (which will be soon, yes?).
• "Heidi" - This may be in my top five favorite Jeremy Messersmith songs.  I want it to change keys and sing it myself (hey, if a man can sing "Steve", I can sing "Heidi").
• "Hitman" - Went nearly deaf again.  Still didn't mind.  
• "Ghost" - I like this song, but it will forevermore be "that song from that Verizon commercial that they always play on Hulu now."
• "Violet" - There was no audience participation this time, probably because nobody was drunk, but it was still great.  This is one of those songs that kind of sneaks up on you with how much you like it.
• "Beautiful Children" - The nearest I came to crying was during this song.  Why do you do this to me, Jeremy?
• "Someday, Someone" - I wish I were as okay about saying the F-word out loud as I am about saying it in my head, because I would proclaim the message of this song to all of my friends when they are sad.
• There was one other song that I hadn't heard before, but I liked it just the same.

The after-the-concert part was fun as well.  I am not the brave sort of person that would ever approach famous people on my own, so I was thankful to have brought my good friend Wayne with me, who is quite good at talking to everyone.  I introduced him to the music (which he loved, bringing to pass giant sighs of relief--it's stressful sharing things you love with your friends!), and he introduced me to the people.  Quid-pro-quo.  Again, they're such nice people!  May they get more famous but never lose their niceness.  Also during the after-bit I grew even more tempted to buy "Reluctant Graveyard" on vinyl...maybe if they come to Boston a third time...?***

I have said it before, and I will say it again:  a year in which Jeremy Messersmith comes to my town twice in six months is a good year.  It was a fabulous concert and an excellent way to start the week. 

*Secret confession time:  as soon as I saw that the keyboardist had a wedding ring, I had this daydream that she would have a baby and have to stop touring and Jeremy would be like, "oh no! where are we going to find another girl who sings and plays piano and knows all my songs?" and then somehow I would be right around the corner and show up to solve all of their problems and also show them some cool harmonies I came up with for a few songs.  I would probably have to develop some stage presence, though, including coming up with some alternative to my bobblehead dance.

**Is that super creepy imagery?  I've been a spooky anatomist for so long that I don't even know what's acceptable anymore.

***I totally would, except it would just make me seem like a huge hipster, and a poser since I don't even have a record player in my possession.  I guess I could play it when I go to my parents' house?

Reasons Why May Was Pretty Okay

For one thing, it rhymes!

5/1:  Checked off my May Date right out of the gate.*  I felt like one of those people who does their visiting teaching at the beginning of the month (except I totally didn't visit teach this month...), but anyway--my friend invited me to see the Alvin Ailey Dance Company perform in Boston.  The performance was amazing, and I was really good at pretending I was one of those people who can make snobby conversation about ballet.

5/2:  My roommate had a birthday party and I baked a Nutella Bundt cake and it was quite yummy.  I'm getting good at this Bundt cake thing.

5/5:  We had a memorial service for the cadavers from Gross Anatomy.  I played the ukulele in public for the first time ever and it was not terrible.  It was probably not terrible because I played with two great violinists and a cool guitarist and therefore wasn't alone.  We played "Somewhere over the Rainbow" and it was quite fun.

5/9:  We had a Mother's Day-themed church meeting and it wasn't the most depressing/cliched thing ever!  A man gave one of the best talks my feminist ears have ever heard.  It even made me emote.  Then there was a luncheon.  Goodness all around.

5/13:  My sister turned 32.  We are old now.  Also I finished my self-defense classes by getting into three different combat scenarios and kicking arse in all of them.  I got some pretty bad bruises over my anterior superior iliac spines, but you should have seen the other guys.

5/16:  I took my Histology final, officially completing my first year of classes in PhD school.  I also did awesomely on the Histology final.  Then I went to a birthday party for a guy in my ward and rejoiced in the fact that the semester was over and now I have no excuse to be non-social.

5/17:  I went to a going-away party with a pal who is moving away probably forever.  There was bowling and I came in third place.  This is not bad, considering I haven't bowled in years.

5/18:  I invented a new theme activity:  Broadway and Bundt!  This means that I bake a Bundt cake (this time it was peach) and watch a musical (this time it was The Music Man).  I invited some friends over to join me (because even though I can, I probably shouldn't eat a whole bundt cake alone) and it was quite fun.

5/20:  I decided to undertake a very ambitious project in a very short amount of time.  It's kind of a secret so I will not write more.  Don't worry...it's not getting myself married off or anything like that.

5/22:  I got crepes with my friend Jourdan.  They were yummy.

5/23:  I went on a friend-date with the aforementioned friend who is moving away forever.  We went to Quincy Market and rode in a water taxi, which is probably the coolest way of getting around the city.  Then we accidentally crashed a high school prom and got in trouble because we clearly look like people who sell drugs to teenagers.

5/24:  I went home to Pennsylvania as a surprise for my sister, who has been very bored since she has not been able to go back to work after her surgery.

5/26:  They had a Memorial Day ceremony at the local VFW where my dad is in charge of some stuff.  I sang the National Anthem and got paid to do so, which was pretty awesome.  The chaplain was this adorable 96-year-old man, and when I met him, I found out that he was a paratrooper in WWII who just happened to land at Normandy and liberate Auschwitz and a bunch of other stuff...no big deal.  But really, it was pretty special.

I am still in Pennsylvania now, and we've been doing lots of errands and chores (spring cleaning and getting rid of old junk that we've hoarded such as owner's manuals for appliances we no longer have and copies of "Buns of Steel" on VHS).  I am going back to Boston tomorrow and I'm pretty excited for what June has to offer.


*I promise, rhyming isn't going to be a running theme...at least not deliberately.

Dating Post #3: Barry White and Sadie Hawkins

Congratulations, you've succeeded at a legitimate method of obtaining someone's contact information.  Now you're ready to ask them on a date.

OMG it's SO terrifying.

Why is asking for a date so scary?  Maybe it's because we have these dysfunctional language translation devices in our brains that work something like this:

Seriously, guys, I'm a PowerPoint ninja.

I will say this once:  if you want dating to stop being something that freaks you out, you need to get the heck out of this mindset.  When dating (or anything) becomes a big deal, it becomes stressful.  Therefore, to make dating not stressful, you need to make dating not a big deal.  How is this done?

First, Date Often.  I knew a couple of guys at church who made a point to go on a date every week.  I actually went on a date with each of them, and when they asked me out, I wasn't thinking, holy cow, he wants to marry me; I was thinking, cool, I am his date this week.  No pressure!

That leads me to my second point:  Your "Date" is a Person, and Not an Activity.  When a date is an activity, it says, "Hey baby, I've created an entire series of events solely around you."  This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but if you're afraid of sending premature "I love you" vibes, there's a different approach.  When your date is a person, it says "I was going to this thing anyway, and I thought it would be nice to not go by myself."  Hence, you bring a Date.  And you get bonus points because your date now thinks that you're super thoughtful for inviting them to go to this activity with you.

Now, what if you're one of the 63% of my readers who are female?*  You're probably thinking, how does this apply to me? I can't ask a boy out because societal norms and traditional gender roles!  Sisters, it's 2014.  You can ask out a man, and really, unless you get all Glenn Close about it, you shouldn't worry about coming off as too "forward" or "aggressive."  If you're still nervous about unleashing your inner Sadie Hawkins, here are my secrets to asking a man for a date:

1. Cultural Activities.  This goes back to the "your date is a person" philosophy.  Until you turn into one of those ridiculously wealthy old ladies who sits alone in her private box at the opera house every weekend (one day...sigh), you'll probably want to attend concerts/plays/ballets with another person, and nobody is going to think that's weird.  In Boston (or any other place with large university and arts scenes), it's really easy to find events that are inexpensive enough to buy two tickets.  Speaking of cheap things...
2. Online Discounts!  I tell you, Groupon has revolutionized the art of girl dating.  You can find discounted dinners for two at pretty decent places, and if you want to be all sneaky and "cool" about it, you can just be like, "oh hey, I have this Groupon that's about to expire (in twelve weeks)...want to come to dinner with me?"  Plus, you've already bought the thing so there's none of that awkwardness about who pays.**  

I hope this has been at all helpful and supportive of my main thesis which is that dating is not this big scary difficult thing.  So go ask someone out this week.

Just maybe not like this.

*This is a made-up statistic.
**Although, frankly, if most women expect men to pay if the men do the inviting, shouldn't women pay if they're doing the inviting?  Again, it's 2014, ladies.  Loosen the purse strings.

My Jane Austen Moment

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Mormon woman will one day stumble into a scenario that resembles a Jane Austen novel with terrifying accuracy.

I've had some Emma Woodhouse moments; I've had a lot of Harriet Smith moments; but I've never had a Lizzie Bennet moment.  Until now.

Some months ago (the same day as my speed dating adventure actually) I was confronted by this guy whom, for the sake of the story, I'll call Mr. Bingley.*  Mr. Bingley was an acquaintance in the most literal sense of the word, and on this day, he spoke his second or third full sentence to me:  he asked if I would be interested in going on a date with his friend, whom I shall call Mr. Darcy.  I agreed to it because I'm a nice person and because, well, you never know, right?  I gave Bingley license to give Darcy my phone number.

A few weeks go by, no phone call, no text message, and I forgot about it.  That is, I forgot about it until this guy starts showing up to places I frequent, usually surrounded by at least one or two Carolines.  I finally put together what I am 99% sure happened:  Bingley gave Darcy my number, Darcy asked around and found out who I was, and then decided I was not worth the courtesy of a phone call.  Having lots of experience as a Harriet Smith, the blow to my vanity was minor and I quickly recovered; however, tonight I had the privilege of being "formally introduced" to this guy at a party.  It took all of my classiness not to call him out and be like, "oh, you're Bingley's friend, aka The One Who Never Called."
  
Fortunately, this very brief experience assures me that this Darcy is nobody that I could ever be prevailed upon to date, but even if he he had been remotely my type, his snobbery and blatant [word that Jane Austen probably never used]-iness is an immediate disqualifier.

I know what you're probably thinking:  Oh, but maybe he'll declare his undying love for you and save your sister from a huge scandal and then walk through a fountain in a thin white cotton shirt.  I scoff at that.  Apart from this very instance, I am no Lizzie Bennet, and I have much more sense than to fall for any Fitzwilliam Darcy, either real or metaphorical.
 

Mr. Knightley is much more my type.