Don't touch me! No wait, do.

I have heard that a person that is touched often is generally happier. I may be making this up, but I believe that a person is "supposed" to be touched at least 17 times per day.

What qualifies as a touch?

I think pretty much anything, except it has to be deliberate.

When I first heard this, I decided that I would just go out and bump into strangers "accidentally" while grocery shopping. Of course, if I bumped into 17 strangers while walking down the produce aisle, I may just get kicked out.

Unfortunately, the person that told this to me said that it had to be deliberate.

So, if a person taps you on the shoulder to see if they can borrow a pencil, or gives you a hug, or slaps you in the face, it counts (ok, not sure about the last one).

Here's the thing. Someone has touched me maybe once today. And it was unusual.

Perhaps this theory is completely false. I'm a generally happy person. But then again, infants that are not held will die much faster, even if they are given all of the nourishment they need (this I know is true).

I think hugging is a lost art. We don't hug our friends enough. I can imagine why, though.

"Hey, I think we should hug more."

"Wait ... are you into me? I didn't know you were even gay."

That just takes you down a whole new awkward route.

"No, I'm straight, I just think we should hug more."

"Why?"

"Well, there's this--"

"OK, you're creeping me out. I'm leaving now."

So that's a little overdramatic, but you get the picture. Talking about hugging is weird.

So what to do?

The answer is obvious.

Ambush your friends with hugs. Some will appreciate it. Others will be seriously creeped out and possibly will never talk to you again.

But really, do you want to have a non-hugger as a friend?

My versions of tired

I go through phases of being tired.

Here's how it works for me:

Initial feelings of being tired - If I didn't get much sleep the night before, or it is getting close to the end of my waking hours, I will begin to feel tired. This generally means that I will move slower, yawn a lot and perhaps start to lose focus. This is when I should go to sleep (or take a nap).

One hour later - If I neglect to go to sleep or take a nap, I will start staring off into the distance in the middle of what I am doing. I will also begin to doze off (especially while reading).

One hour later - Usually I will do something about being tired by this point, but if I cannot or do not want to, I will make some efforts to keep myself awake. This might mean drinking a lot of caffeine, eating a lot of sugar, or running around my apartment with my vuvuzela.

One hour later - After I have indulged on caffeine, I will become slightly insane. Everything is funnier. I am louder (and also funnier). Focus is impossible at this point. I cannot hold a reasonable conversation. I may start a conversation with someone, drift away, come back and say "What? I'm sorry, I was thinking about elephants. Is that the Millenium Falcon??? No, it's a toaster." Then I will laugh uncontrollably for a few moments (repeat).

One hour later - If I get this far, I am beyond hope. If you hand me an object, I will drop it. If you say anything to me, I will stare at you in confusion as though I have never heard words before.

One hour later - EMOTIONS. I am either laughing or sobbing uncontrollably. I may start to tell you a story about some minor incident that happened when I was four years old and how it ruined my entire life.

One hour later - Practically comatose, trying to stay awake while likely lying in the middle of the floor without moving. I may attempt to have some input in whatever is going on, but it will be something along the lines of "crabapples funny, your face my hungry trains."

One hour later - Either finally asleep (whether intentional or not) or dead.

Why everyone should wear shirts (always)

Last night, imagine my consternation upon walking out of my bedroom and into the living room to see my roommate's boyfriend sitting on the couch, shirtless.

Now, my roommate's boyfriend is not awful looking. Nor is he incredibly handsome or chiseled. But those things, in my mind, don't really matter when it comes to shirtlessness.

Granted, it was getting pretty warm. But, you certainly did not see me or any of my roommates taking our shirts off and walking around in our bras.

Does this come down to a modesty issue? ... Sort of.

You will say that men are much more visually geared, so a woman walking around without a shirt would be a bigger distraction.

While that may be the case, I still think men should wear their shirts as women do.

Here's my reasoning:

An incredibly chiseled and buff man without a shirt on is indeed a distraction for women. Believe me.

Any other man is simply kind of gross without a shirt on.

So, men, unless I have fallen madly in love with you, please keep your shirts on in my presence. Just as a favor to me.

You don't see me walking around in my bra when I get hot.

(Note: There is an exception with swimming. This I can understand. A lot of extra fabric can be really annoying in this case)

Why are all of my posts about men?

You again?

As I embark on my senior year in college, one thing I've noticed with increasing frequency is the amount of people around me that are in serious dating relationships, getting engaged, and getting married.

Everyone is pairing off.

Everyone.

...

Why?

As I was discussing this phenomenon this evening with some other single ladies one of them brought up the alarming possibility of waking up next to the same person for the rest of your life.

We talked about how there would have to be some days that you woke up and thought "Damn. You again?"

I don't feel qualified to make a decision like that at this point in my life. Granted, it's been a long time since I've come upon a man I'd be willing to spend more than a few hours with, much less the rest of my life. I suppose that if I ever meet someone that I can tolerate for longer than my usual upper limit I'll know it's love.

I'll ask him to marry me immediately (of course).

Why do people get married so young?

Do I owe it to my gender to get a doctorate?

I've considered this question off and on for a while now.

I have the intellect and the motivation to go to grad school, get a masters and then keep going and become a doctor of ... something.

But I don't even know what.

... And I don't really want to.

The thing is, I've thought a lot about how great it would be to become a doctor. Especially as a woman. I want to be an example for young girls who want to be ambitious career women rather than homemakers. I think a lot of young girls want to be homemakers, and that's great, but honestly, they have enough role models as it is.

What about that middle school girl who really wants to be a CEO of a company, but all of the women she knows decided that wasn't for them?

I sometimes feel like because it is in my power, I should take hold of the unique opportunity that I have to show other women that it is possible to take hold of your dreams.

But then again, those aren't my dreams.

It's something I've struggled with some, as a feminist. I'm not going to go to grad school after I graduate. Maybe eventually, if I feel like God's nudging me in that direction. If I find something I really want to explore more. But for now, I'm going to ferociously go after my dreams, and hopefully women and men both will see me and know that if I can accomplish my dreams (with God's help), they can as well (with God's help).

Also, I do not hate men. Just wanted to clarify. I like men quite a bit, actually.

Relationships Suck more than Root Canals Sometimes

Do guys talk to each other about relationships and relationship choices? ... I think a lot of women do. Not necessarily all women, but certainly almost all of the women that I know do.

For example, a few days ago, a friend of mine told me a story about how she and this guy sort of started a kind of relationship over the summer. After she moved back for school, they emailed back and forth some, but nothing was ever really set in stone. The problem was, while she really liked the attention, she wasn't entirely sure she was all that interested in him (at least not anymore). What was my advice to her? I said two very specific things: 1) be honest with him. 2) You are simply not allowed to lead him on.

This is a recurring theme. I've had this conversation with women before, and it always comes out to be honest, and do not lead him on.

Do guys have conversations like this?

I can't imagine that they do. If they did, things like this wouldn't happen:

(the following is a conversation between a man and a woman spanning over a few months which took place in various forms)

Guy: You're hot. And I think I'm attracted to you.

Girl: It's mutual. On both counts.

Guy: I really wanna be with you.

Girl: Me too, but about you.

Guy: But I can't right now. My life is really messed up. I need some time.

Girl: Holy crap. Me too.

Guy: So we'll wait some, ok?

Girl: Yeah

And the backpedaling begins

Guy: But don't wait for me. If you find your prince charming, go ahead.

Girl: I'll wait for you.

Guy: Please don't expect too much.

Girl: ....... ? ...... Ok.

A week later

Guy: I miss you

Girl: I miss you too

A week later

Guy: I wanna come see you.

Girl: Absolutely

Guy: I was going to come this weekend, but I couldn't get someone to dog sit.

Girl: ... Oh. ... That's really ... That sucks.

Guy: Yeah, it does.

Girl: I miss you

Guy: .... .... ... ... I miss you too. But we can't talk like that.

Girl: You're probably right. Too soon.

That is the moment that started everything else. Soon the girl was questioning everything. She asked him, point blank, several times what it was that he really felt and how he wanted to play this thing out. He was elusive.

Finally:

Girl: You need to give me an answer about all of this.

Guy: ... I want to keep my options open, but I can see you won't let me. ... I made a mistake when I said those things a few months ago. I don't think we'll ever be together.

Would a guy tell his friend that he's not allowed to lead a girl on?

I hope so.

Hallelujah, Amen, You are Dismissed.

Men make me nauseous.

I'm not joking. Every single time I see a man, I have an intense urge to throw up. Maybe I'm some kind of new era feminist. Feminism is so ingrained in me that it has moved to my bodily functions.

Or maybe not.

Perhaps it's true that I've been hurt a few times. To be precise, it is definitely true. When I am hurt, I go through cycles of being ok and full of forgiveness and then being horribly angry and unforgiving. The following may have been in one of my more unforgiving states of mind after being hurt by, you guessed it, a man.

When I told you that I had forgiven you, I'm not sure I was correct. It's not that I was lying, but I may have been mistaken. I'm so angry with you. I'm angry about how you treated me. I'm angry that we're not together. I'm angry about the kind of person you seem to have become. I'm angry that we're both pretending everything is ok. I'm angry that I care so much. I'm in love with what we could be together, but I fucking hate how often I am reminded of how much we fall short. All of my dreams of you are turning to dust before my eyes. The sandcastles I'm trying to build out of this dust don't cut it as a replacement. I miss you. Or more accurately, I miss who I once believed you were. I want to wake up to find that you're that beautiful person I always thought you were. I want to believe that you are. I want us to bring out the best in each other. I want that faraway picture I had to come true. But most of all, I want to sweep away my dusty sandcastles and forget you.

Stupid man. Yet lovely. See? I'm still conflicted.

I was at church a few weeks ago, ruminating about this man and several other things that occasionally go horribly wrong. As I prayed, I got this feeling that God was trying to say something to me, so I shut up for a moment and what I heard was:

I love you so fucking much.

Hm. God swears. Who knew?

There is something broken

About a hallelujah

Hallelujah says

I'll praise you anyway

Hallelujah says

You are God despite

Always despite

Despite my aches

My tortures and sins

In every rancid moment

You are God despite

Hallelujah

If God is willing to swear to get my attention, I'm willing to do all I can to praise him, even when there are men (and others) all around me trying to make me nauseous.

You and Yours

I have officially accomplished the most essential piece of becoming a bonafide blogger.

That is, of course, coming up with a background and design that is not only aesthetically pleasing but also communicates my sheer awesomeness and the fact that I certainly did not spend too much time or work too hard to make that awesomeness clear.

That was a long sentence.

Never you mind.

You may remember five or six years ago when blogs were so severely popular that anyone without one was deemed horrendous. Then, of course, facebook came along and moved that spiral of insecurities into a far more concise and user friendly venue. Now, blogs seem to be reemerging.

Of course, you are not allowed to have one if you do not have something of incredible importance to say. Either that or you need some kind of disclaimer that it may or may not be interesting and it's up mostly for your own personal enjoyment (reading between the lines, this generally means: LOVE ME OR I WILL DIE!).

I'm not sure yet which category this falls under.

Probably the LOVE ME OR I WILL DIE category, but it may be too soon to tell.