"What do you think about this for my dating app profile?" I text Julia.  

Seeking fellow blob of inconsequential cosmic dust with whom to collect as many joyful and meaningful experiences as possible for the brief and beautiful time we're floating around space on this tiny blue speck. Care to discuss over drinks the insane fact that we even exist or more normal things like the current TV show you're binge-watching in order to avoid The Uncomfortable Truth that one day relatively soon you and everyone you love will die? 

"I can't tell if you're serious," Julia replies.  

"Serious," I send. "But reading it again maybe I could tone down the existential despair just a tad."  

Seeking fellow blob of cosmic dust with whom to collect as many fun and meaningful experiences as possible for the brief and beautiful time we're here. Care to discuss over drinks the absurdity of our existence or more normal things like the current TV show you're binge-watching? 

"I guess the people who'd relate to it are the type you're searching for," Julia responds honestly and with the resigned support that can only come from someone who loves me as much as she does despite regularly thinking I've lost it. 

I spend every free moment for about four days pondering and redrafting my blurb, a process which includes but is not limited to:  

• Creating a "Dating" section in OneNote to compile personality assessments and comprehensive lists of who I am, what I like and dislike, and qualities I'm looking for in a romantic partner and relationship 
• Looking up the definitions of words like admiration, pathological and enthusiasm to make sure my word choice is as accurate as possible 
• Sifting through my quote book for well-phrased wisdom about life, love and interpersonal connection 
• Counting the number of items I list in a sentence because it's often said series of odd-numbered things are more pleasing  
• Literally Googling, "how to be funny" 

I consider using, 404: Profile Not Found. A perfectly endearing and representative description of this person could not be found due to overthinking, crippling perfectionism and a devastatingly low character count. 

I try listing some personal attributes and hobbies—too vague. A line of emojis? Too basic. Short and cryptic, not me. 

How about showing I know myself well and can be upfront about shortcomings? That way he'll know what he's getting into. You've been warned, sir! 

Pros: supportive, reliable, creative, observant, loyal. Can find beauty, meaning and harmony even in mundanity and hardship. Cons: oversensitive, self-critical, long-winded, oversharer, procrastinator, obsessive, particular, insomniac, carbaholic, lazy, worrier. Loved Star Wars episodes I–III and thinks no other Star Wars movies are worth watching. 

Or here's an approach I call Emote So Hard Motherfuckers Wanna Swipe Me! (Vigorous leftward swipes, that is—might as well weed out the intimacy-averse as immediately as possible.)

I want to share all of my life with someone, from everyday mundanity to adventuring around the world. Seeking a committed partnership of equals in which we can both be completely ourselves, will aim to love and understand each other well, and ridiculously admire, support and encourage one another toward our best selves. Swipe right if you're unafraid of conflict, practice vulnerability and feel you have realistic expectations about long-term relationships.

But maybe there's a way I can attempt to convey my many complex and seemingly contradictory dimensions?

I'm good at mingling at the party but really love finding a deep, intense or interesting conversation with 1–2 people camped out on a comfy, quiet corner of the couch. Equally enjoy staying in to binge TV all day and hitting up a crowded bar for dancing or karaoke all night. Happy camper, happier city-dweller. Homebody and world traveler. Deep thinker who sometimes takes things too seriously but loves to be silly and have fun. Sensitive and analytical. Creative and methodical. Organized and flexible. To dichotomous choices I like to say, "Why not both?"  

Ugh, I contain too many fucking multitudes for 300 characters.  

I haven't even started interacting with actual people yet. I have no idea what the "correct" approach is here except that there probably isn't one. I'll never be able to write the perfectly representative profile. I wasn't meant to fit into these text boxes.  

Too bad I can't just link to this blog post. Is there a dating app that allows users to submit a 1000-word personal essay? That's where my people would be. 

Here's what I ended up with for now:  

Happiness is how strong the wifi signal still is from my hammock out on the porch. Social introvert, pathological optimist, experience collector. Into TV, enthusiasm, lengthy conversational podcasts, walking around a new city, efficiency, well-curated playlists, cocktails, live music, making lists. ISFJ 

Amazing Ish

To Listen
My favorite genre of music is songs that sound happy with sad lyrics. In that vein, check out The Decemberists' new album, I'll Be Your Girl, namely the track Everything is Awful. I dig the folk-space vibe. I'm listening now and for multiple seconds didn't realize a siren out my window wasn't part of the song. Also, I realize it's not the happiest-sounding, but somewhat upbeat... perfect bpm for leisure walking.

To Watch
My favorite genre of movie is mumblecore, a genre I didn't know had an official name until well after I knew I loved it. My second favorite genre of movie is coming of age. In that vein, check out Love, Simon, a perfect movie. Bonus rec: dat soundtrack dough. Double bonus: I thought of the movie Comet for some reason while typing this. Great, weird movie. And Emmy Rossum, who knew?! Just finished the eighth season of Shameless, which I didn't think was as bad as people said.

To Read
Doesn't really count as reading, but follow Myq Kaplan on Twitter. (Speaking of following...)

To Eat
Have I already recommended havarti grilled cheese here? Dip that ish in applesauce, just try it.

To Remember
From a wonderfully positive, in many ways, IG account, "flowers are not always in bloom." Off-days are okay. Nothing days are okay. Sad seasons are okay. We can't always thrive.

To Do
I've met some awesome women on Bumble BFF, which a lot of people have never heard about! Women are awesome, and I'm glad this tools exists to help us find each other and unite in girl power. Even those who were in relationships before dating was digitized can now join in on the swiping!

To Think About
"What are you pretending you don't already know?" This is shitty advice in the way that the best advice is the thing you don't want to but really need to hear. I avoid so many things I already know but don't want to admit. Listening to my own inner knowing is really hard, especially because the knowing isn't words. There has to be quiet and stillness to hear it, so I often miss it while attempting to convince myself and others that the thing I want to do is the right thing. The right thing is usually the hardest thing, which is annoying and stupid.

Adrift in my own head

I write this blog for a few reasons.

1. I need to write. Nothing gets processed inside my brain. My words need to come out, and I have a lot of words. My friends and family endure my longwindedness, but sometimes I have too many words for even the people I know. So I write. And the better-sounding stuff I post here.

2. Posting makes me edit, which helps me further process and organize my thoughts. Some things I have written in my digital journal or private blog of sorts make no sense when I go back and read them. They were thoughts I needed to get out at the time, but unedited, unorganized and without context I have no idea what I was on about. It helps me sharpen a skill I enjoy.

3. It takes me out of my comfort zone. I get nervous when someone tells me they are reading through my blog. It's one thing to stand for what I write and know that [a small number of] people read it. It's another thing to stand for what I wrote three years ago. My thoughts are out there, as my header quote says, "for my scrutiny and yours." My feelings are frozen in a moment. My writing, my personality and my experiences are benchmarked over time. It's vulnerable in the good way, and it is equally scary and exciting.

Which leads me to something else equally scary and exciting. I love playing music in my free time. But like writing in a private digital journal, playing music alone in my room is safe and unpolished. When I think about sharing the songs, I get nervous. I have to practice longer, and I can't skip over the tough parts. Playing for other people makes me better.

It's also a tribute to the music that's meaningful to me. You know those songs that keep you going and give words to your feelings and let you sing out your anger/fear/sadness/joy? I'm going to post some of these songs. And you'll see if you listen, it's obviously not about the quality of how I play or sing the song. It's about getting the words out, practicing a craft and being vulnerable in the good way. It's about freezing a moment in time and honoring the season of life during which I needed this song that spoke to my soul.

(Un)lost by [one of my top five favorite artists] The Maine

Wild

There's a Christian book that was popular among my friends and mentors in high school and college. Wild at Heart: Discovering the Secret to a Man's Soul "invites men to recover their masculine heart" (back cover). I read Wild at Heart in college, as many of my male friends were reading and discussing it.

I also read the companion book for women, Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul, which asserts that every girl, "longs to be swept up into a romance, to play an irreplaceable role in a great adventure, to be the beauty of the story" (back cover).

Though it's been a while since I read these books, I remember the message they presented that men are destined for a great adventure. In fact, according to the author, men have three main desires: a battle to fight, an adventure to live and a beauty to rescue.

That last part, the beauty to rescue, is where the woman comes in. Men, on their own, the books said, need time to fight their inner battle and discover their life's adventure before they find their beauty to rescue. Women, in the meantime, should cultivate their beauty so it's captivating enough to catch a man's attention that he might take her on his adventure.

The same evangelical Christian culture I was part of during some of the most influential years of my life regularly also described men as wild in regards to their sexuality.

So often in youth group I was taught that men have a ravenous, insatiable desire for sex and women. It's not their fault their brains are sex-crazed lust machines. They can't help their eyes, thoughts or sometimes even their actions. Sexual desire is the main, uncontrollable, internal struggle for every. single. man. This struggle can't be cured, but it can be tamed somewhat, so women should alter their behavior to protect their brothers in Christ from stumbling. Don't wear certain clothes, because you might make a man think about you a certain way. Don't be alone with a man because he may not be able to help himself to you physically. Don't let a boy make out with you too intensely because it will lead to sex. Set boundaries with men you're dating, and constantly and adamantly inforce them, because he will push those boundaries just as constantly.

I have so many problems with these narratives that discourage women from their own adventures, extract a woman from her own story to give her a supporting role in someone else's and make women responsible for the thoughts and behaviors of men. I think in many ways the church holds women back and thus robs their own communities and the world of the gifts women have to offer.

But this happens outside of the church as well. Next time you're at a department store, take a brief stroll through the baby and toddler sections. Baby boys have astronaut onesies and get to be superheroes. Girls are princesses. Target carries gray footie pajamas for boys with the Superman logo that say, "Future man of steel". The pink equivalent in the girls' section says, "I only date heroes". Boy clothing often inspires them to adventure, creativity and typically male-dominated fields and activities. Girl clothing focuses on their looks and positive emotions.

One blogger points out the fact that boy clothing is covered with trucks, trains and dinos while girl clothing is often covered with hearts and smileys. She writes, "This got me thinking about symbolism and gender in a brand new way. We know that our culture expects women and femmes to do the vast majority of emotional labor. What I realized on that day is that clothing intended for little girls is often covered with symbolism promoting that very labor…Little boys are being told, from a very young age, that feelings don’t matter, or at least shouldn’t matter to them. They’re learning that feelings are for girls alone. " Don't even get me started on boy clothing that says in big, bold letters, "BOYS WILL BE BOYS".

In a recent London Times article, Caitlin Moran offers the analogy that men are often seen as lions and women as their tamers. When I read that quote, all these things came rushing to mind. Moran had discovered the perfect analogy for how I've been taught, implicitly by society and explicitly by my church leaders, the relationship between men and women works.

I remembered the unfairness I felt for a decade of my life at summer youth group events. Girls were asked to wear shirts and shorts over their bathing suits for the guys' sake despite our discomfort. Yet the guys could wear whatever bathing suits they wanted. We were taught our bodies were the problem because the boys would be boys.

I remembered the undue shame and embarrassment I felt when a close, longtime male friend asked me for a ride home and a pastor standing nearby asked if his wife would be okay with that and suggested we have someone else in the car or have his wife on the phone the whole time.

I thought of another Caitlin Moran quote from her book "How to Be a Woman": "Should women wear burkas? The idea is that it protects your modesty and ensures that people regard you as a human being, rather than just a sexual object. But who are you being protected from? Men. And who - so long as you play by the rules and wear the correct clothes - is protecting you from the men? Men. And who is it that is regarding you as just a sexual object instead of another human bring in the first place? Men. I would definitely put this under the heading '100 percent stuff that the men need to sort out.'"

It made me think of all the times I was held back while the men got to follow their dreams, live their adventures and write their stories. I remembered the confusion I felt the time a male youth volunteer at church was told by the youth pastor he "preached a good sermon" while I was told I "taught a good lesson". See, I could do the exact same thing (and do it better, frankly), but I was technically not allowed to "preach". I remember the lead pastor of our church taking a group of my male friends, all around my age, on a camping trip to invest in them as young leaders.

As I was pondering the lion tamer relationship, remembering the books Wild at Heart and Captivating and thinking back on every time I was framed as less than, one phrase kept coming to mind: 

Let me loose. I am just as wild. 

I am not a princess in a tower. I am not a lady in waiting. I am not a lion tamer. 

I am not waiting for a man to take me on an adventure. My greatest hope is not to be rescued, not to mention that I’m not sure what I’m being rescued from anyway.

 

No.

I am a warrior, an adventurer, a lioness. I am a badass bitch you don't want to mess with when angry or on a mission. I am smart and talented and have many gifts to offer the world.

These narratives are just as harmful to men for different reasons but to the same end: Men are being kept from their full potential by the societal expectations placed on them. Men could be a greater force for good in the world if not cursed by culture telling them who to be and how to act. While women should be allowed to live in the full expressions of their true selves, men should be too. Why do we teach young boys to toughen up when it's more healthy and helpful to acknowledge and communicate our feelings? Why are men called pussies when they express their emotions or follow stereotypically female passions? Why can't male ballet dancers be just as badass as BMX bikers? Can women be strong, and can men be beautiful? Can women be tough and men be soft? Why are we letting external forces tell us who we are and who we should be? Men are not sex-crazed lust machines who can't control their brains or behavior. Each of us is responsible for his/her actions. Women are not any less sexual than men. Women are not the antidote to men's problems, and women are not destined for a supporting role in someone else's story.

We are lions, y'all. Wild and majestic, fierce and beautiful. We are each meant to lead with the (ungendered) strengths we've been given and support each other. Can you imagine how communities and humanity could grow and advance if both halves of the population were allowed to live to our full potential without all the bullshit we currently have to wade through?

Set us free. Let us loose. We are wild. 

Brain dump, go.

I recently read an article about being more productive. One suggestion was to write To-Don't lists instead of To-Do lists. The idea was to identify tempting time-sucks that keep you from what really needs to be done.

TV is so obviously my primary productivity roadblock, as it was for the woman who wrote this To-Don't article. (I wish I could reference it, but it's long gone by now. Skimming articles and social media posts is my secondary productivity blocker.)

She recommended something that worked for her: don't turn the TV on until you've been home at least 90 minutes. TV was a default activity she detoured by delaying it.

Today I walked into my house, and my strong TV-watching muscle memory listed for me all the new episodes I have on dock. (The Deuce and a whole new season of Mindreader, in case you're interested.)

No, the usually less assertive part of my brain said adamantly. (I got Starbucks this morning, which never fails to hyperdrive my focus, creativity, positivity, responsibility… generally every desirable trait I could hope to have is more possible with caffeine… sociability, optimism, productivity, I could go on. I'm a much better human after delicious Starbucks sugar drank.)

No, my prefrontal cortex said again as I literally stood frozen in my living room on my way to grab the remote and sink into the couch in one glorious motion. Let's do better shit for 90 minutes; there will be plenty of time for TV after. (You'll notice my prefrontal cortex uses semi-colons. Obviously.)

With the help of aforementioned happy human drug, the rest of my brain and body said, THAT'S AN AWESOME IDEA, and to work I went.

I made great headway on my To-Do list and, as Article Lady probably also experienced, after 90 minutes I realized I was fine without the TV and kept working on the shit I needsta get DONE.

That is, until a few minutes ago when I got distracted looking for an old file on my external hard-drive and instead stumbled upon every picture I've ever taken in the last ten years.

Brain dump part two, go.

I was especially distracted by pictures of me when I was apparently SUPER DUPER HELLA skinny, though I would never have said so at the time. I opened all these fine ass pictures of me wishing my body still looked like that, zooming in in straight up awe that I had a thigh gap before a thigh gap was ultimate societal beauty goals, kicking myself hard for not appreciating that body when I had it, contemplating how small, unnoticeable, gradual changes over time can really make a big difference and sighing for the fact that I may always look back and wish I was more grateful for what I had when I had it.

I also had an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia for times gone by and friends I've loved. Nostalgia is one of the especially weird feelings because it's happy and sad at the same time. There's such a sense of joy dancing with such a sense of grief. You're grateful for what was while you're grasping at something you can never hold again. I will undoubtedly feel that later for this time in my life, too.

I wish we could travel to memories. I would love to spend a day in that downstairs room off the kitchen I lived in when I first moved away from home. It was never meant to be a bedroom, and it only cost me $150 a month to rent. I lived with amazing women, some of the best friends I've had. We laughed and sang and danced and cried and studied and procrastinated and lived together, for good and bad. We hated each other at times while we were all under the same roof, but looking back I loved it. I could also spend a week back in the summer after college when I moved back in with my parents. I wouldn't mind sitting in on some of my old high school and college classes. I would visit special holidays, loving meals and late night parties for a pick-me-up on sadder days. I would take travel buddies with me for quick trips to laugh at old outfits and embarrassing moments and poor choices of boyfriends. Like I have favorite places, I would frequent my favorite years and moments. I could take in the feelings and environments again and again, making up for times I didn't fully soak in the goodness or life or fullness of a given experience.

Connecting thought, go.

It's so easy to fill the minutes and days and weeks with meaningless shit and ungratefulness and drudgery. Things you don't appreciate now you will likely miss later. Make choices with intention and meaning. Fight for your moments. Be fully here because you can never go back.

Can you tell I'm over-caffienated? Kthxbai.

be amazed

Food:
So I’m trying to see how long I can go without grocery shopping. Current streak: 20 days*. And my last trip only cost me $21. See, I tend to purchase too much food for the week and have to throw away a bunch of spoiled food. My fridge and pantry right now look emptier than they’ve ever looked, but I still have food there I can eat. I’m trying to be creative about what I make and eat what I have so I don’t waste food.

TL;DR My food rec this week is to find a way to waste less food.

*I had to grab a block of Parmesan from the store yesterday.

TV/Movies:
The Deuce. The Deuce. The Deuce. Are you watching The Deuce? Watch The Deuce.

The AV Club calls The Deuce the rightful heir of The Wire, and I agree. The only complaint I have about either show is the 3-minute song and credit roll at the beginning, which HBO doesn’t skip for me even when I’m binging. Check the rating if you think you might be offended by the show’s content: the sex industry in 1970s New York. Maggie Gyllenhaal + (James Franco x 2) + familiar faces from The Wire in very different roles + sex, drugs, nudity, gender dynamics, corrupt cops and “flawed, fascinating people” (AV Club) = ARE YOU WATCHING THE DEUCE YET?!

Oh, bonus rec, I checked out Sarah Silverman’s new show on Hulu, I Love America. There’s only been one episode so far, but I found it delightful and had a smile on for most of it. Excited for some more. Double bonus: I love Broad City, but this season has so far been underwhelming. That is, until the most recent episode in which Abby and Ilana eat some mushrooms and take the audience on a trip. If I were ever tempted to do ‘shrooms, I feel like I don’t need to now. The mostly animated episode takes you on a beautiful drug-induced journey, all the way through to a bad trip. I practically got the whole experience without having to escape my mind or reality. Loved it.

Music:
Still reading the book I recommended last week, The Rap Yearbook. Go check out some Eric B. and Rakim on Spotify, also the This Is: Young Thug playlist and the This Is: Kendrick Lamar playlist. Good. Shit. The Rap Yearbook basically calls Rakim the most important rapper of all time, saying he is to rap what Michael Jordan is to basketball for many reasons. Changed. the game.

Books:
I can’t read fast enough to recommend a new book every week. But my fav pod folks from Crooked Media have launched a new website with a host of new content contributors and now with written content in addition to their expanding array of podcasts. Check them out, I heart them.

Misc:
Every time I go to the library or borrow a book online, I’m reminded how wonderful a thing the library is. Sure, it takes a little more patience and effort to borrow a book when owning it is just $12.99 and one click away, but many books (or audio books or CDs or movies...) you don’t really need to own or pay for. This week I borrowed like 12 books for reference on a project I’m working on. So much knowledge, so zero moneys. I love me some free.

Amazeballs

Food
I am not ashamed to tell you that I bought a Costco sheet cake for my roommate's birthday. I bought 48 servings of cake for my her and me to share. The two of us are three-fourths of the way through the largest custom sheet cake $19 can buy. You only turn 26 once. My food recommendation this week is to indulge.

I have been trying to make better food choices. (I am always *trying* to make better food choices.) On Friday, I ordered a burger at the new Culinary Dropout (bonus rec, try this neat new Tucson hang) and got asparagus on the side instead of fries. It was delish. My point is, I am trying to eat better in general and stay active. All so I can share 48 servings of birthday cake with my live-in friend.

Be healthy. Make good choices. Get moving.

And then when the opportunity presents itself to eat cake, indulge like a mofo.

Also, if the mood strikes, buy yourself a Costco sheet cake. That shit good.

Music
New album from The Maine, Lovely Little Lonely.
And while you're at it, anything by The Maine, namely their second most recent album, American Candy.

Books
On loan from one of the coolest humans I know, I'm currently reading The Rap Yearbook by Shea Serrano. Picks the most important rap song from each year since 1979 and digests it. Serrano fills his writing with prefaces and interjections. I was annoyed with it until I realized that's how I write and talk. Now I appreciate it, though I am considering trying to develop a new writing style. His analysis is very detailed, which I also appreciate. Maybe by the time I'm done I'll be able to hear a rap song and finally be able to decipher what the lyrics mean.

TV/Movies
Also per rec of aforementioned cool person and many other recent mentions, I watched through The Good Place. So forking worth it. Adorable and smart. I loved it. I can't tell where they're headed yet with the second season, but I have hope on account of how straight delightful the first season was.

Misc
Um, how did I forget how fun racquetball is?! Played tonight for the first time in over a year. The rules are simple, it's easy enough for beginners and an hour and a half of playing is a darn good way to balance out a slice of birthday cake.