Arsenic and Old Lace

If there is even an infinitesimal chance of you reading this, I think you should know - I miss you. And I don't get it.

Recently, a very good friend of mine really let me down. Thankfully, we were able to talk about it and mostly resolve things. There was still some tension and confusion, but it appeared, to me, that we were on track to basically go back to normal.

Recently, a very good friend of mine really really let me down. After a good conversation, I took steps in the direction of patching up whatever rifts there had been in our friendship. After a good conversation, he took steps in the direction of jettisoning our friendship.

I haven't spoken with this friend in several weeks, and I still don't know why.

And it has gotten me thinking.

As I think back through the friendships and relationships I have had in my life, most of which I have enjoyed immensely, I see a pattern. Almost every single one of my close male friends have simply stopped being my friend, often without explanation.

I am not trying to complain or go for sympathy, though I realize it may seem that way. In reality, I am bewildered. Apparently, something about me poisons friendships, and I don't have a fucking clue what it is.

Scum

Also, in honor of International Women's Day (which was yesterday) and Women's History Month (which is now), read this: SCUM Manifesto.

I certainly do not agree with everything (or most things) in it, but it is certainly interesting (and definitely amusing at points).

I'm judging you

I am realizing more often lately how many snap judgments people make of each other. I am noticing this very clearly in myself. Based on one piece of information about someone, I will quickly do one of two things. I will either a) give them a pat label, or b) determine several other things about them that I am certain are true (whether or not they actually are).

Here are some examples:

1. I was recently looking through some photos a friend of mine took for someone's senior photo shoot. This person apparently loves reading, so the photo shoot took place in the library. When I read that piece of information, I judged the person positively. When I saw the photos, however, I noticed that Twilight was among the stack of books this person posed with. I immediately determined that this person was hopelessly annoying and completely delusional. Also, it is not actually necessary for me to say that this person is a girl. Obvious, right?

2. I was at a restaurant where music is loudly played and the cooks sing along loudly. Most of the patrons smile, sometimes sing along quietly. There was one girl who was singing loudly and dancing while waiting in line. Immediately I labelled her "dumb, obnoxious teenager." When a Ke$ha song (which I hate) came on, she squealed "this is my song!" My first thought was "Oh, big surprise." Now she is "dumb, obnoxious teenager who likes awful music."

3. I have this thing about language. I try to be very precise in my speech personally, so I struggle when others are not very precise. One example which bothers me on other levels as well as a linguistic one is when people use the term "mankind" in reference to all people. Whenever this happens I will always mutter "humanity" under my breath in correction (or say it aloud, depending on the circumstance). Along with this slight rebellion, I will label the offender either "ignorant" or "chauvinist" (the label used depends on a number of factors).

We all do things like this. Why are stereotypes so much easier? Perhaps it is simpler than really trying to get to know someone. It could have to do with our unwillingness to face our intolerance head on. The most interesting thing about stereotypes, to me, is how desperate we are to fit into them. We tend to be very clear about which group or label we want to fall under, and when we fail to do so, we have failed our identities, failed ourselves.

Or, radically, we could just be ourselves and try harder to accept others as who they are as well.

What we make of it

I have had a kind of defeatist attitude of late about many things.

I am not going to enjoy this semester.

I won't ever get married and I will be lonely my entire life.

No one is going to care about my birthday.

I'll never be able to pay my parents back.

I won't get a job when I graduate.

I will never see this person or that person again.

I'm not usually a pessimist, so this is somewhat alarming. I need to find something new and exciting to become involved in. I need to regain my passion for life and all of the things that I know I will accomplish.

I am going to set a goal for tomorrow that seems very difficult to attain, and I am going to meet it. I am starting a list of goals I want to complete by the end of the semester. I am sick of feeling like this is all pointless.

It's not. There's a point.

Orange Soup

I am a very easily irritated person.

Conversations sometimes irritate me. I like to say that I have a low tolerance for inanity, but perhaps I am just uninterested in other people.

Improper drivers irritate me. This is normal, of course, as I believe that I am the only capable driver on the road.

Squeals, screams, yells, and other loud noises (especially without proper warning) irritate me. This, again, is normal as I would appreciate not losing my hearing.

What irritates me perhaps more than anything else, though, is loud eating.

I know someone who has not yet learned to chew with their mouth closed. I glower at them until they notice, growl "chew with your mouth closed," then attempt to go on with my business.

I have had far too many experiences where people are eating normally, but there is no background noise available to drown out the sound. I want to scream "EAT QUIETER!" but I know that this is socially unacceptable.

Today, I had an experience with someone eating carrots. They were eating carrots relatively normally, but they were eating carrots. Many of them. Carrots piled up on the plate as though there was some kind of carrot eating contest and they are in training. I could not really leave the room, and neither could the perpetrator. For those infinite ten minutes (carrots take a long time to eat, especially twenty of them), I was near hyperventilating.

I am very easily irritated. I should work on that.

Unholiness in the holy land (Or Satan can suck it)

Sunday morning in Israel. Almost every one of the other people at Jerusalem University College went to church this morning. I didn't. I slept in. And believe me, it felt glorious. Sometimes I feel like being typically "unholy" is much better spiritual discipline than being typically "holy."

I don't usually like to go really deep into spiritual or theological matters here. However, something important happened to me this week that I want to discuss.

Those that know me well know that what is probably the most important thing to me is my family. I have a rather large family, and several people who count as family despite not being related by blood. Because my family is so important to me, I find it very difficult to do too many things without my family. When I first moved away for school, it was one of the most tumultuous times in my life. It has gotten better since then, but for several reasons I have found myself very eager to be at home in the past few months.

At the beginning of this week, I traveled for two full days from Minnesota to Grand Rapids to Chicago to Istanbul to Tel Aviv and finally to Jerusalem. Incredible opportunity as this is, I found myself terribly homesick. I didn't find this that unusual.

One day, though, it got really bad. I was able to skype with my mom, sister, cousin and nephews (which is an incredible blessing), and I found myself practically weeping due to my desperate wish to be with them instead of just talking with them.

I told my mom that I was unable to sleep and that when I should've been sleeping all I could think about was being at home. My mom told me that I was in a spiritual battle, and that she had spoken to several people that were going to be praying for me during the day and while I slept that night. I went to sleep that night, soon after I talked with my mom. Although I didn't sleep perfectly, I slept much better. I woke the next day with a much more optimistic attitude.

I truly believe that my mom was right, and that a spiritual battle was won that night. I have been much more excited about where I am and the opportunity I have in the past few days. Satan preys on our weaknesses, and one of mine is that I am perhaps too dependent upon those that I love. I thank Jesus and I thank so many prayer warriors for what happened that night as I slept. Due to my physical and emotional exhuastion, there is no way I would have been able to do that on my own.

I am excited to spend the next two weeks in the holy land. And I am excited to be able to say that I am actually excited.

Christmas music sucks

I have a disease.

Not a normal life-threatening kind of disease, but more of an emotional and mental disease.

I get songs stuck in my head really easily and quickly. When a song is stuck in my head, it will not leave for a long time unless I am able to take immediate action against the song. All too frequently, I won't be able to sleep because of a song stuck in my head.

I once did not sleep for an entire night because I had Soulja Boy's Kiss Me Thru the Phone in my head. It was horrible.

I love Christmas. It is one of my favorite holidays because it is all about family and joy and hope and excitement. But I hate Christmas because it is all about walking in winter wonderlands and santa clause coming to town and rudolph, who happens to be a red-nosed reindeer. Oh, and about wishing people a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in Spanish.

Christmas music is so catchy and horrible. Luckily, I have been able to avoid it for the most part this year (three cheers for avoiding malls), and my sleep has not been fraught with jingle bells rocking or frosty snowmans.

Next year I plan to ban Christmas music entirely. From the world.

It's for the best.