Last semester I took my first playwriting class here at SC. Though not my first stab at writing for the stage, it was definitely my most developed work. I spent the entire semester dancing around a specific topic that for certain reasons is becoming more and more of a soapbox for me. My final scene was a culmination of the work I'd done in the past months and the beginning of the work I will pursue further, as soon as I have some free time to devote to writing it. Titled, "If Doves Don't Migrate," the scene will eventually be the climax of a play in which I will focus on the relational struggles of three different couples in different life stages. The topic: Sex. And God. As I get older, having been thrown my share of curve balls, I've become increasingly interested in how Christians perceive sex. Really, anyone who breathes upon this earth is going to encounter struggles when it comes to physical relationships, but I am especially curious as to how a chaste, Christian couple makes the transition from "avoiding sexual immorality" (which unfortunately often gets translated as avoiding sex altogether--as if the act itself is immoral, rather than its abuse) to enjoying a literal Song of Solomon. Or what about the two, at their second year anniversary, who find it too hard to wait the two years before they finish school and can get married? Then take all of that, layered with a history of sexual abuse, and you have the scene's focal character, Camille. A heavy topic, I know--which is why I really want to take my time to develop all of the story lines. I'm going to need some more research and perhaps some more life experience before I'll really feel confidant that my play is worth putting out there. But for now, I did want to share a little taste of what I've been working on. I hope that this work turns into a conversation piece--something to bring to light issues within the Christian community and really the world as a whole. How do we deal with damage? And how does God fit into that? While the scene itself ends with an ambiguous-bordering-on-depressing tone, the message I want to convey is that there can be healing and God is good. Funny. Sounds like my life theme.
So here is where I wanted to include a little snippet of the scene. I figured I could just pick some good bits and edit the content some in order to make it appropriate for all my readers. Time for one of my famous digressions: I have a certain beef with sticking to "clean" language and "nice" scenic moments. Though I try, in my everyday life, to avoid certain language, etc. that might be construed as offensive, I feel that artistically and thematically, certain actions and words create a stronger dramatic effect and help to better express truthful, real-life moments. After all, when you are in the midst of traumatic situations, most of your filters go out the window. And on stage, if you don't push the envelope just a little, how can you expect any reaction from the audience. People don't remember "nice" plays; they remember the poignant moments that stirred their dormant passions or nearly induced vomiting.
And, of course, my favorite theatrical elements of this scene are as such, so I'll end with a bit of outline, which will have to satiate you for now. The basic frame of the scene is a conversation between Camille and Monika about the events of the night before. As they talk, Camille reenacts the scene for us. Monika watches Camile and Jacob, due to be married in a week, as a fourth person, Ryan, unseen by all but Camille, enters. He is "the rapist"--a title that deserves quotes because whether or not he truly raped Camille is ambiguous, depending on one's definition of rape. Ryan, in a manner of speaking, forces Camille to explain to Jacob the exact events of the assault. It's violence, panic, prayer, and a questionable resolution: can there be forgiveness, should there be forgiveness, and how do you erase the past?
Well, I think I succeeded in bringing up plenty of topics without really answering any of them. Enough to keep you up at night, I suppose. But I guess that's kind of what I'd like for the full play to do. I'm trying not to make too many judgements on my characters as I write because I still don't have conclusive evidence to set my stance in these areas. Much of what I've thought in the past has been challenged, and I'm sure it will continue to be so. Perhaps I'll divulge more as seems appropriate, but I think this shall be all for tonight. Bullet points for those that need things wrapped up in little bows: I'm writing...it's about psycho-emotional-girly things...with a Christian slant...and not suitable for all ages.
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Friday, October 27, 2006
Why don't students get an allotted number of sick days?
Yes, that's right friends. Meredith is down and out with some semblance of illness. It's not meningitis according to the nice ladies at the USC health center, but whatever it is, it requires three different prescriptions medicines, lots of fluid, plenty of rest (ha!), and neck-focused physical therapy, which I also am not doing. The first two of four isn't bad I figure. Granted, I walk around in a perpetual state of light-headedness and an overwhelming need to pee...but I won't go there. Mostly because I just took my muscle relaxer pill and I hope to finish this post before my fingers go or my head flops over, leaving me in a immobile puddle on my floor.
There've been a couple of things on my mind that I am hoping to write more about--the most recent of which is a rant about how I always seem to rant when I post stuff on here. Yes, a bit of irony, I know...but I was thinking this morning about how I should take the time to share here about some of the neat stuff that I am reading in the Bible and the cool epiphanies I've had during my chats with God. So hopefully you will see a bit more of that.
Also, we are at the point in the semester in my playwriting class where we begin developing a rough draft of the scene we want to present for the final. This class has been a really interesting experience of self-discovery. I've explored some places in my writing that were difficult to delve into, but I want to share some of my writing along with the things I am learning about releasing my inner playwrite.
And, as an appropriate finale, I am working through a new man-theory: recently a couple of people have thrown around the phrase, "I just need to man-up and *insert manly action here.*" While I am all about encouraging and affirming guys as they learn and practice what it means to be a man, I think that sometimes "manning-up" can often be for the benefit of others. Yes, I'm talking about dating and the "grow a pair, ask girls out" philosophy, but guys, don't judge me too quickly. I want to take a look at how women fit into this picture. And not to let the entire cat out of the bag, I'll leave you with a glimpse of paw: I'm working with a new term, something to the effect of what it means to "woman-up" or perhaps more appropriately, "woman-down." Feminists prepare your fire pits because you might want to burn me after this one...alas I love stirring up controversy, so hopefully I'll get around to this one sooner rather than later.
As always, comments are welcome--in fact, if you hound me via the comments section, it might help motivate me to ward off the muscle relaxer for a few extra minutes some night.
There've been a couple of things on my mind that I am hoping to write more about--the most recent of which is a rant about how I always seem to rant when I post stuff on here. Yes, a bit of irony, I know...but I was thinking this morning about how I should take the time to share here about some of the neat stuff that I am reading in the Bible and the cool epiphanies I've had during my chats with God. So hopefully you will see a bit more of that.
Also, we are at the point in the semester in my playwriting class where we begin developing a rough draft of the scene we want to present for the final. This class has been a really interesting experience of self-discovery. I've explored some places in my writing that were difficult to delve into, but I want to share some of my writing along with the things I am learning about releasing my inner playwrite.
And, as an appropriate finale, I am working through a new man-theory: recently a couple of people have thrown around the phrase, "I just need to man-up and *insert manly action here.*" While I am all about encouraging and affirming guys as they learn and practice what it means to be a man, I think that sometimes "manning-up" can often be for the benefit of others. Yes, I'm talking about dating and the "grow a pair, ask girls out" philosophy, but guys, don't judge me too quickly. I want to take a look at how women fit into this picture. And not to let the entire cat out of the bag, I'll leave you with a glimpse of paw: I'm working with a new term, something to the effect of what it means to "woman-up" or perhaps more appropriately, "woman-down." Feminists prepare your fire pits because you might want to burn me after this one...alas I love stirring up controversy, so hopefully I'll get around to this one sooner rather than later.
As always, comments are welcome--in fact, if you hound me via the comments section, it might help motivate me to ward off the muscle relaxer for a few extra minutes some night.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
What about cheating?
I just got back from seeing The Last Kiss with Zach Braff, one of those movies that brings up all sorts of questions that you don't really want to think about. Hence, here comes another pensive post.
The movie deals with relationships--marriages of both young and old, ones with children involved, serious dating relationships...all of which are moving through some sort of crisis. Braff's character finds himself tempted to cheat on his girlfriend, who will soon also be the mother of his kid. Watching, I found myself hoping for certain outcomes for each of the characters--all of which forced me to deal with the movie's central question: what about cheating? At what point do you define "crossing" that line, and which lines are forgivable, and can you ever forgive or should you forgive?
As one of the few 20 years olds that I know who actually thinks that she's ready to get married, I know what a scary thing it is that I'm claiming. Am I really ready to be married? And if I'm just kidding myself on this whole maturity thing that I think I see in me, when will I really be "grown up" enough to make that kind of commitment? I've never been impressed enough by a guy to let him have more than two months, and lately two dates. I can't even stick to a hair color. I've never been in love or let someone get close enough to hurt me, so I don't know how I'm supposed to make that jump into "till death do us part." And the closest I know to cheating, was my sophomore year of high school, when my boyfriend cheated on me with one of my best friends. At that point in the relationship though, I was already over it anyway--I knew a week beforehand that it was over, so when he actually broke up with me, I didn't cry. I didn't care. But what you sign up for in a real relationship, and what you bind yourself into, under God, the state, and everyone else, when you get married, is a lot of pain along with the good. The moment you let someone in, you make a choice to be vulnerable--and a choice to allow that person to hurt you in the deepest ways. Loving someone is allowing them to hurt you, and hoping that they won't. But they will.
So many people, myself included, want to be perfect--or at least perfect for someone out there. But the reality is, I won't ever be even adequate for someone else. And if I get married, he's going to get bored with me or annoyed or something...and he'll start looking elsewhere. There's a part of me that thinks that I'm going to somehow beat this by being whatever it is that all of those women who get cheated on aren't--as if it was something that they didn't do enough of, or something they did too much, that made their man cheat. I have to figure these things out so that I can keep him so happy that he wouldn't even consider looking elsewhere. The truth that I don't want to consider is that it doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't be enough. Which I'm sure isn't going to feel so great. Still, I feel like I'll be able to get through that kind of hurt. I may not understand exactly what it would mean to be cheated on in a real way, but I do know a thing or two about pain, and I think I'll be able to forgive. Sure, it's going to be really hard to heal my damaged pride and broken heart, but I've done it before. I know hurt, and I know where to take it, how to find healing.
The kind of hurt that I'm more scared of is the pain that comes if he's not the one in the relationship who screws it up. What if I do somehow end up with this incredible man that I think I'm looking for--and what if he is faithful enough to say no every single time that he's tempted? How do you come to someone so good...and tell him that you've done something so cruel? My morbid side uses this as a motivation to stay away from any guy with a shred of decency--as if I'm going to ruin him or something. That part's scary.
So now I start to wonder if getting married would just be selfish of me. I would be willing to marry a man that I loved, even if you were to tell me that he would cheat on me in the future. But if you were to let me know that I would cheat on him, I wouldn't be able to do go through with the marriage. I guess that's why it's good that I don't know the future, so I don't preemptively cop-out.
I still think marriage is going to be worth it. Despite all the ways it can and will go wrong, I think it's worth it to try. These are the kinds of hard times that I want to grow through. Like all the cliche's say, it's those bad times that make the good ones so sweet, and it's better to have lots of pain and the opportunity for joy than lead a safe, but boring life. Maybe marriage really isn't natural--something out of whack with our animalistic side--but I think it's a commitment worth making. And when I get to the point where I think I want out, where it's boring or annoying, I hope to God that I push through it--that He'll give me the strength to hold on to what I promised. Maybe part of the joy comes in knowing what it's like to suffer through the hard stuff and come out again on the other side. After 20 or 30 or 50 years together, you really understand the beauty of the sun, and it's something the two of you share because you discovered it together. Maybe that's worth it.
The movie deals with relationships--marriages of both young and old, ones with children involved, serious dating relationships...all of which are moving through some sort of crisis. Braff's character finds himself tempted to cheat on his girlfriend, who will soon also be the mother of his kid. Watching, I found myself hoping for certain outcomes for each of the characters--all of which forced me to deal with the movie's central question: what about cheating? At what point do you define "crossing" that line, and which lines are forgivable, and can you ever forgive or should you forgive?
As one of the few 20 years olds that I know who actually thinks that she's ready to get married, I know what a scary thing it is that I'm claiming. Am I really ready to be married? And if I'm just kidding myself on this whole maturity thing that I think I see in me, when will I really be "grown up" enough to make that kind of commitment? I've never been impressed enough by a guy to let him have more than two months, and lately two dates. I can't even stick to a hair color. I've never been in love or let someone get close enough to hurt me, so I don't know how I'm supposed to make that jump into "till death do us part." And the closest I know to cheating, was my sophomore year of high school, when my boyfriend cheated on me with one of my best friends. At that point in the relationship though, I was already over it anyway--I knew a week beforehand that it was over, so when he actually broke up with me, I didn't cry. I didn't care. But what you sign up for in a real relationship, and what you bind yourself into, under God, the state, and everyone else, when you get married, is a lot of pain along with the good. The moment you let someone in, you make a choice to be vulnerable--and a choice to allow that person to hurt you in the deepest ways. Loving someone is allowing them to hurt you, and hoping that they won't. But they will.
So many people, myself included, want to be perfect--or at least perfect for someone out there. But the reality is, I won't ever be even adequate for someone else. And if I get married, he's going to get bored with me or annoyed or something...and he'll start looking elsewhere. There's a part of me that thinks that I'm going to somehow beat this by being whatever it is that all of those women who get cheated on aren't--as if it was something that they didn't do enough of, or something they did too much, that made their man cheat. I have to figure these things out so that I can keep him so happy that he wouldn't even consider looking elsewhere. The truth that I don't want to consider is that it doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't be enough. Which I'm sure isn't going to feel so great. Still, I feel like I'll be able to get through that kind of hurt. I may not understand exactly what it would mean to be cheated on in a real way, but I do know a thing or two about pain, and I think I'll be able to forgive. Sure, it's going to be really hard to heal my damaged pride and broken heart, but I've done it before. I know hurt, and I know where to take it, how to find healing.
The kind of hurt that I'm more scared of is the pain that comes if he's not the one in the relationship who screws it up. What if I do somehow end up with this incredible man that I think I'm looking for--and what if he is faithful enough to say no every single time that he's tempted? How do you come to someone so good...and tell him that you've done something so cruel? My morbid side uses this as a motivation to stay away from any guy with a shred of decency--as if I'm going to ruin him or something. That part's scary.
So now I start to wonder if getting married would just be selfish of me. I would be willing to marry a man that I loved, even if you were to tell me that he would cheat on me in the future. But if you were to let me know that I would cheat on him, I wouldn't be able to do go through with the marriage. I guess that's why it's good that I don't know the future, so I don't preemptively cop-out.
I still think marriage is going to be worth it. Despite all the ways it can and will go wrong, I think it's worth it to try. These are the kinds of hard times that I want to grow through. Like all the cliche's say, it's those bad times that make the good ones so sweet, and it's better to have lots of pain and the opportunity for joy than lead a safe, but boring life. Maybe marriage really isn't natural--something out of whack with our animalistic side--but I think it's a commitment worth making. And when I get to the point where I think I want out, where it's boring or annoying, I hope to God that I push through it--that He'll give me the strength to hold on to what I promised. Maybe part of the joy comes in knowing what it's like to suffer through the hard stuff and come out again on the other side. After 20 or 30 or 50 years together, you really understand the beauty of the sun, and it's something the two of you share because you discovered it together. Maybe that's worth it.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
In a Moment of Honesty
It's never a good idea to write blogs from that emotional place you get to when it's late at night. There's a certain sense of truth that I know comes out of me when the day is done and I start getting all introspective. My best friend Mitzi once told me that I was one of the strongest people she knows. I laughed.
I recently learned that I had a few more blog readers than I thought--meaning that my late night emo-posts are getting around to more people than is probably healthy. Hm...how to be honest and avoid the overshare...
Honestly, this post isn't strong. I'm about to admit that sometimes I don't have all my stuff together. I'm not quite as invincible as I like to portray. Yes, I'm talking again about boys, which sort of makes me want to vomit. 98% of me has a complete handle on things--boys are entertaining but not good for much else. And it absolutely KILLS me when the other 2% wins out and I start to feel all girly and daydreamy and yuck. Mitzi says I'm strong. So I should be able to hold my own. Just me and God. And I don't want or need anything else.
But Lauren introduced me to this new song tonight, and I let myself be weak and actually feel every word. Music and I have had quite the affair, and I love it when certain lines or bits of songs give a voice to that piece of yourself that you can't quite seem to express. I've felt these words long before I heard them tonight...
I recently learned that I had a few more blog readers than I thought--meaning that my late night emo-posts are getting around to more people than is probably healthy. Hm...how to be honest and avoid the overshare...
Honestly, this post isn't strong. I'm about to admit that sometimes I don't have all my stuff together. I'm not quite as invincible as I like to portray. Yes, I'm talking again about boys, which sort of makes me want to vomit. 98% of me has a complete handle on things--boys are entertaining but not good for much else. And it absolutely KILLS me when the other 2% wins out and I start to feel all girly and daydreamy and yuck. Mitzi says I'm strong. So I should be able to hold my own. Just me and God. And I don't want or need anything else.
But Lauren introduced me to this new song tonight, and I let myself be weak and actually feel every word. Music and I have had quite the affair, and I love it when certain lines or bits of songs give a voice to that piece of yourself that you can't quite seem to express. I've felt these words long before I heard them tonight...
"Paperweight"
Joshua Radin and Shuyler Fisk
Been up all night staring at you
wondering what's on your mind
i've been this way with so many before but this feels like the first time
you want the sunrise to go back to bed
i want to make you laugh
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers i'm waiting
every word you say i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
happy to lay here
just happy to be here
i'm happy to know you
play me a song
your newest one
please leave your taste on my tongue
paperweight on my back
cover me like a blanket
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers i'm waiting
every word you say i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
and no need to worry
that's wastin time
and no need to wonder
what's been on my mind
it's you
it's you
it's you
every word you say i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
and i give up
i let you win
you win cause i'm not counting
you made it back to sleep again
wonder what you're dreaming
Joshua Radin and Shuyler Fisk
Been up all night staring at you
wondering what's on your mind
i've been this way with so many before but this feels like the first time
you want the sunrise to go back to bed
i want to make you laugh
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers i'm waiting
every word you say i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
happy to lay here
just happy to be here
i'm happy to know you
play me a song
your newest one
please leave your taste on my tongue
paperweight on my back
cover me like a blanket
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers i'm waiting
every word you say i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
and no need to worry
that's wastin time
and no need to wonder
what's been on my mind
it's you
it's you
it's you
every word you say i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
and i give up
i let you win
you win cause i'm not counting
you made it back to sleep again
wonder what you're dreaming
Seriously--I hate the girly side of me that thinks I wrote every line. No more daydreaming. I'm going to bed. At least if I'm a big, sappy dork while I sleep, it's not really my fault because I have no control over what my subconscious dwells on. Tomorrow morning, the majority gets to rule again.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
What About Baggage?
I almost hate to mention what spurred this post...but my desire to seem professional motivates citing this source...
I receive the eHarmony newsletter via email.
Whew...I'm glad I got that off my chest. In all honesty, I swear it's because I filled out one of those free personality profiles one night when I was bored...and now they send me stuff in my email, and I'm too lazy to ask them to stop. This particular issue caught my eye because it had several dating/relationship articles that I thought sounded interesting. Being the aspiring relationship guru that I am, I opted to peruse Dimensions (this is what they call their little bit of literary whatnot). After I finished an article titled "The Ex Files: How to Get Over Your Baggage and Get On with Your Life," I started to wonder if this "Dr. Warren" really knew what he was talking about. I'm a huge skeptic to begin with, and no amount of couples' success stories is really going to convince me that I should listen to his babbling.
Yet. This topic is very close to my heart. My dad and I have had many a discussion about "what is it about women and holding on to their baggage for dear life?" After hours of yapping, the best conclusion we've come up with is that women are spaghetti and men are waffles. This, according to my dad, is the newest catch-phrase--taking the ideas of Venus and Mars to a whole new level. I'll venture a tangent to explain: men compartmentalize. They have all these little squares of syrup and none of them have to mingle with any of the others. Women, however, are spaghetti because anything you add to the mix gets all sorts of gunked up on everything else (this explanation is especially potent with my accompanying hand motions, but you'll have to do without them for now). Anyways, point being, if a woman has hurt in her past, she can't seem to confine it to one noodle. Sauce gets all up in all the noodles. And you can't just start throwing stuff out or you'd have no noodles left, which only further encourages your anorexia, also not a good thing. Besides, this whole "packing analogy" is really difficult for me. I mean, if you've ever seen me at the airport, you know that I am anything but low maintenance. Every time I travel, I plan to downsize some, but it never seems to come to fruition. And now with all these anti-liquid regulations, transporting my lip-gloss collection is more complicated than ever. Still, I do see a glimmer of hope: my travel rule is "Never pack more than you can carry." Testing proves that there is a direct correlation (excuse the science-talk, I just finished my lab report) between my increasing buffness and the amount of baggage I can truck around with.
Alas, according to Dr. eHarms, baggage is something that can be organized, downsized, and eventually eliminated. According to my dad, you should just get over it. In other words--baggage can be sectioned off, cut neatly, and swallowed with a glass of milk. Which is all fine and dandy if you are a waffle.
On behalf of all the spaghetti in the world, I propose that we get a second opinion...from a chick. Sure, the article has some awesome ideas for learning what it means to understand your past and the effect it has on you. Yes, people should recognize the hurt for what it is, forgive, and put it behind them. But this isn't a case for getting rid of baggage altogether. In a kind of sick but also charming way, your baggage helps make you the way you are. It doesn't have to be all that bad. Here's some additional hints that I would add to Dr. Warren's five-point plan:
1. Pack efficiently: sort through all the crap you've got and figure out how to organize it just a bit. Rolling clothes instead of just folding and piling them is an army trick I got from a friend of mine. Know what kind of crap you have and see if you can arrange it in a way to make it make a bit more sense.
2. Downsize what you can: a little of me dies inside when I say this, but three different kinds of lip gloss will be plenty for the road ahead. And toss the hair appliances--go for the wet-hair look. It's hot right now.
3. Hit the gym: if you've got a lot of crap to haul, better buff up those arms and shoulders. Go with what you got--God hasn't given us more than we can handle, right?
Now this all brings me to a final ThoughtRantTangent (check that--combining three words instead of just two): I may actually be entering the life-stage where I don't hate on hook-up websites. Last weekend, while watching 10 Things I Hate About You on TV (where they bleep out words...which I always find slightly distracting and rather amusing) with my friend Katie and two of my roommates, a commercial for eHarmony came on the television. Alli spoke up: "You guys--we are the demographic they are catering to...the pathetic, single women watching movies on TV on a Friday night." According to the other commercials, we are also single mothers (kids' toys ad) and fat (Weight Watchers). Kind of depressing, really. But I don't think that you have to be ridiculously loserish to glean from the dating advice and methods of others. Last summer I read a book called How to Get a Date Worth Keeping, which I pre-judged as the most un-Christian dating book ever. My post-judgment came out opposite. The book has a lot of good ideas about viewing dating as a normal part of making friendly connections with people--instead of as the scary monster we've turned it into. I think eHarmony and it's competitors are on to something similar: it's O K to meet new people and get to know them. In today's world, courtship can't work like it used to because your parents (or you) can't do the intensive background check that was once possible. You, likely, didn't grow up around these people. Dating or the websites that promote it are a form of "background check" in a social situation. Not to take away all the romance of relationships, but doing a bit of research on the subject before your let your emotions get carried away is a pretty good preventative strategy for keeping the baggage count low.
My last thoughts: love God and keep traveling. Happy trails!
I receive the eHarmony newsletter via email.
Whew...I'm glad I got that off my chest. In all honesty, I swear it's because I filled out one of those free personality profiles one night when I was bored...and now they send me stuff in my email, and I'm too lazy to ask them to stop. This particular issue caught my eye because it had several dating/relationship articles that I thought sounded interesting. Being the aspiring relationship guru that I am, I opted to peruse Dimensions (this is what they call their little bit of literary whatnot). After I finished an article titled "The Ex Files: How to Get Over Your Baggage and Get On with Your Life," I started to wonder if this "Dr. Warren" really knew what he was talking about. I'm a huge skeptic to begin with, and no amount of couples' success stories is really going to convince me that I should listen to his babbling.
Yet. This topic is very close to my heart. My dad and I have had many a discussion about "what is it about women and holding on to their baggage for dear life?" After hours of yapping, the best conclusion we've come up with is that women are spaghetti and men are waffles. This, according to my dad, is the newest catch-phrase--taking the ideas of Venus and Mars to a whole new level. I'll venture a tangent to explain: men compartmentalize. They have all these little squares of syrup and none of them have to mingle with any of the others. Women, however, are spaghetti because anything you add to the mix gets all sorts of gunked up on everything else (this explanation is especially potent with my accompanying hand motions, but you'll have to do without them for now). Anyways, point being, if a woman has hurt in her past, she can't seem to confine it to one noodle. Sauce gets all up in all the noodles. And you can't just start throwing stuff out or you'd have no noodles left, which only further encourages your anorexia, also not a good thing. Besides, this whole "packing analogy" is really difficult for me. I mean, if you've ever seen me at the airport, you know that I am anything but low maintenance. Every time I travel, I plan to downsize some, but it never seems to come to fruition. And now with all these anti-liquid regulations, transporting my lip-gloss collection is more complicated than ever. Still, I do see a glimmer of hope: my travel rule is "Never pack more than you can carry." Testing proves that there is a direct correlation (excuse the science-talk, I just finished my lab report) between my increasing buffness and the amount of baggage I can truck around with.
Alas, according to Dr. eHarms, baggage is something that can be organized, downsized, and eventually eliminated. According to my dad, you should just get over it. In other words--baggage can be sectioned off, cut neatly, and swallowed with a glass of milk. Which is all fine and dandy if you are a waffle.
On behalf of all the spaghetti in the world, I propose that we get a second opinion...from a chick. Sure, the article has some awesome ideas for learning what it means to understand your past and the effect it has on you. Yes, people should recognize the hurt for what it is, forgive, and put it behind them. But this isn't a case for getting rid of baggage altogether. In a kind of sick but also charming way, your baggage helps make you the way you are. It doesn't have to be all that bad. Here's some additional hints that I would add to Dr. Warren's five-point plan:
1. Pack efficiently: sort through all the crap you've got and figure out how to organize it just a bit. Rolling clothes instead of just folding and piling them is an army trick I got from a friend of mine. Know what kind of crap you have and see if you can arrange it in a way to make it make a bit more sense.
2. Downsize what you can: a little of me dies inside when I say this, but three different kinds of lip gloss will be plenty for the road ahead. And toss the hair appliances--go for the wet-hair look. It's hot right now.
3. Hit the gym: if you've got a lot of crap to haul, better buff up those arms and shoulders. Go with what you got--God hasn't given us more than we can handle, right?
Now this all brings me to a final ThoughtRantTangent (check that--combining three words instead of just two): I may actually be entering the life-stage where I don't hate on hook-up websites. Last weekend, while watching 10 Things I Hate About You on TV (where they bleep out words...which I always find slightly distracting and rather amusing) with my friend Katie and two of my roommates, a commercial for eHarmony came on the television. Alli spoke up: "You guys--we are the demographic they are catering to...the pathetic, single women watching movies on TV on a Friday night." According to the other commercials, we are also single mothers (kids' toys ad) and fat (Weight Watchers). Kind of depressing, really. But I don't think that you have to be ridiculously loserish to glean from the dating advice and methods of others. Last summer I read a book called How to Get a Date Worth Keeping, which I pre-judged as the most un-Christian dating book ever. My post-judgment came out opposite. The book has a lot of good ideas about viewing dating as a normal part of making friendly connections with people--instead of as the scary monster we've turned it into. I think eHarmony and it's competitors are on to something similar: it's O K to meet new people and get to know them. In today's world, courtship can't work like it used to because your parents (or you) can't do the intensive background check that was once possible. You, likely, didn't grow up around these people. Dating or the websites that promote it are a form of "background check" in a social situation. Not to take away all the romance of relationships, but doing a bit of research on the subject before your let your emotions get carried away is a pretty good preventative strategy for keeping the baggage count low.
My last thoughts: love God and keep traveling. Happy trails!
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