Today
Today was a really hard day of vacation, but I'm making real progress. I'm tired and crabby and completely overwhelmed, but we're getting there. I can't believe I'm not done yet! Check out the photos: the first day I moved in, and today... [AUGUST 20 2008]

Insights from Myra
Myra pinpointed one of my trouble-spots in dating, particularly concerning first dates. Because I'm kind of completely an open book, I'll talk to anyone about almost anything. This usually means that I share personal stories that many (probably most) people would reserve for much later dates, after they get to know someone better. Myra suggested that my "opening up" is probably interpreted by my dates as a signal that I'm comfortable with them. ("She's telling me all this stuff, so she must like me.") Makes sense, but here's the thing: I'm comfortable with everyone. Like I said, I'm an open book. I'll talk to anyone. Wanna discuss race, religion, politics, culture, STDs, child molestation, porn, sex? Sure, let's talk. Wanna discuss sports, weather, pets, hobbies, music, books, movies? Sure, whatever.

This hasn't been a bad thing, except that I often get asked for second dates when I really don't care to be, and in situations where I can't understand why a guy would ask me in the first place. From my end of the date, it's painfully obvious that we share next to nothing in common and wouldn't be very good for one another. I'm a nice woman (believe it or not), and I genuinely want to spare nice men the misery of an incompatible girlfriend and an inevitable, uncomfortable breakup. In terms of life goals and aspirations and philosophies, I am incompatible with most of the population. The problem is me. I get it. I'm just trying to spare everyone some heartache. Truly.

I asked my friend Hot Derek for his take on Myra's idea. He agrees, but (I adore him for this) insists that I should not attempt to change this part of myself. So what if people misunderstand and miscontrue my intentions and feelings? Yeah. So what? [AUGUST 14 2008]

Amen!
When Mikey and I first broke up and I felt all sad and dejected, my coworker Heidi gave me a different version of this "funny," which I've kept displayed in my cube ever since. (Nothing heals a broken heart like some unabashed man-hating, right?) Sorry I can't cite a proper reference; there's no copyright or owner listed, and I can't find the image when I search online.

Amen! Sing it with me, girls! :) [AUGUST 14 2008]

Doing Nothing
What many people would define as "doing nothing" is, in fact, quite the opposite for me. When I am "doing nothing," I'm usually lost in thought, being far more productive than when I'm actually "getting something accomplished." [AUGUST 13 2008]

Go Jets!
Since none of you people will just leave it the hell alone for God's sake!!!, I'm left with little choice but to formally address the now-subsiding Brett Favre saga. "What will you do, Rachel?" you ask. "Will you still be a Packer fan?"

Since Brett has been my imaginary husband for many, many years, I feel it's my moral responsibility—nay, my duty—to support my husband through these trying times. I am now a Jets fan. Fair-weathered and Pack-stabbing, you say? Perhaps. But an imaginary husband is an imaginary husband, and I'm trying really hard to be a good imaginary wife.

I'm still a Packers fan. I'll still root for the Packers, I still hope the Packers kick ass this year, I still hate the Vikings, etc. But I am now a Jets fan, first and foremost. They will be "my team" until Brett finally-no-really-this-time-for-real retires. Then I will resume my former allegiance to the Pack.

The one constant that I can guarantee, regardless of any personnel changes: I'll always be a Twins fan. I promise. [AUGUST 12 2008]

Yes, Virginia
I feel so blessed that my favorite old college professor, Virginia, remains a part of my life. She has offered me infinite humor and wisdom during the last 12 years. [AUGUST 12 2008]

Another PostSecret?
Here's another Post Secret-type site I found recently: Common Ties. It's updated daily, unlike Post Secret, which is kind of nice. I like it a lot. [AUGUST 12 2008]

My White Whine
I hate nights (like tonight) when Twins games aren't broadcast in HD. Honestly, the plain-old-FSN is really annoying—almost impossible to watch.

Speaking of the Twins, what's more sad: the fact that the games don't start until 9:00 this week, or the fact that I've become so old that a 9:00 game is just too damn late for me? [AUGUST 4 2008]

Beer Nuts
Q. What's the difference between deer nuts and beer nuts?
A. Deer nuts are under a buck.

Funny. I found this joke in the story "Patient, Female," by Julie Schumacher, which appeared in The Atlantic's 2008 Special Fiction Issue. Excellent issue — you should buy it. Lotsa good stories. [AUGUST 4 2008]

Movies
If you know me in the real world, you know that I never watch movies. It's not that I don't like to; I just rarely make the time. Now that I've got this cable TV and a DVR, though, I've been doing some recording from the movie channels. I recorded Leaving Las Vegas (Nicholas Cage, Elizabeth Shue), which everyone in the world seems to have seen, except me. Mikey always used to tell me how hilarious it was, so I decided I might as well record and watch it.

I watched it this afternoon, and, as usual, Mikey was 100% correct. It was hilarious! Everyone needs a little light-hearted romantic comedy once in a while, right? Cage's character provided a fantastic study in physical comedy. The incident where he fell into the pool was side-splitting, but was then capped off by his tripping over and breaking a glass table. Honestly: this sort of comedy rivals only Chris Farley in physicality. Absolutely hilarious. If you ever need a good laugh, you know where to find it. [AUGUST 3 2008]

Logic
When I tell people I have a graduate degree in rhetoric, I can see their brains processing the idea that I've likely studied politics and learned all about the fine art of "spin." Not true. My degree is, more accurately, in logic: understanding, presenting, and debating situations and arguments logically—and writing about those situations and arguments in the same way. I've always said that the quality of one's writing can never exceed the quality of one's thinking. If this is true, then the world is full of really shitty thinkers.

I've always been more grounded in logic and reason than in feelings and emotion. I often assess situations with a weird sort of clinical detachment—and not because I don't care, not because I'm a heartless, insensitive bitch, but rather because assessing situations based on emotion is a fantastic way to arrive at the wrong conclusions. ("Do you think I'll ever get married / get a divorce / go bankrupt / lose weight / start my own business / adopt a child?" my friend might ask. "It doesn't matter what I think," I'll reply. "You either will or you won't. You'll learn these answers one way or the other, but you'll probably be fine either way.") Accurate and simple.

I don't mean for this to be insensitive or cold; I just don't know a better response. Remember this: People rarely ask for advice when they genuinely want and/or need it. And they're even less likely to act on your advice anyway — so save yourself some time and agony. Stop engaging in the stupid-ass-back-and-forth debates about meaningless issues. When people ask for your advice, recognize that what they usually want is an opportunity to hear themselves speak, to hear themselves present their own situations from their own emotionally-biased (and thus, horribly inaccurate) perspectives. You can humor them and give them that opportunity to speak, but offering your advice is typically a colossal waste of time, rarely accomplishing anything. If you like exercises in futility, though, go ahead: advise away, preacher man!

I hate when people say things like, "You're gonna make me cry," or "Don't make me feel bad." Here's the thing: I can't make you do or feel anything. You make yourself cry or feel bad, based on your own feelings about yourself, and the level of value to which you hold my opinion." If my opinion is that you're a bad/stupid/ugly person, and you care about and put weight on my opinion, then you might "feel bad." If, however, you know you're a good/smart/beautiful person, then my opinion won't affect your mood. You can't feel bad without allowing yourself to feel bad. I have zero patience for people who rely on others to make them happy. [JULY 30 2008]

HeeHee...
I know it's inappropriate in every sense of the word, but come on... [JULY 22 2008]

Really?
I pull up to a stoplight next to a white truck. The guy in the truck waves at me and smiles. I do my best to pretend to care, smile back, then look forward. He honks. I look over. He starts flexing his biceps for me.

Really?

Can you feel the exciting (and yet somehow predictable) end to this tale? Naturally, I pulled over immediately, blushed and cooed girlishly at his amazing demonstration of superior male prowess, and agreed to meet him later this evening for a wildly uncensored adult romp. I mean, come on, ladies. What else could I do? [JULY 21 2008]

Whenever
Whenever I get irritated with the tumbleweeds of dog hair that sometimes blow across my hardwood floors, I remind myself how sterile and somber and boring my home would be without them.

My dogs make me laugh—real, belly laughs—every day. Finny has recently taken to eating the peas right off the vine, right out of the garden. (And who can blame him, with this crappy new low-calorie diet he's on?!? The dog's gotta survive somehow!) Lucky runs head-first into the fence when she chases bunnies and squirrels, then seems sincerely flabbergasted that the fence was there. Some nights, Finny snores so loudly that he startles himself awake and immediately begins growling. Lucky insists on having an audience when she eats. Finny gets belligerent if I pay too much attention to Lucky. Both dogs go total ape-shit when the mailman comes. (But think about it from the dogs' perspective: they win, every day. Every day, the mailman comes to the door. And when the dogs start barking, the mailman goes away. Mission accomplished, right? In their little pea brains, they're winning.)

I love my dogs. They rock. [JULY 20 2008]

What?
When I imagine myself at 40, 50, 80 years old, I always imagine a husband there with me: a kind, funny, smart, sweet, not-afraid-to-get-dirty, animal-loving, silly husband. I'm wise enough to know that I only want the right husband, and that I'll be much happier as a single woman than as a woman married to the wrong guy. I'm pretty damn happy right now, which is good.

But if "the right" husband is, in fact, what I want, you'd think I'd take steps to help make it happen. And so I try, every once in a while, to take steps. But then I end up out-thinking myself, getting a little bit of a hugely bad attitude, and giving up. I don't know why I feel like it'll be so hard to find someone that's well-suited for me. Well, actually I do know why: I'm a "unique case," as my friends and various professional acquaintances so lovingly put it. Whatever, dude.

So how badly do I really hope to meet that mythical "someone special"? I really can't answer that. I wish he'd just magically appear at my doorstep, already knowing everything bad about me, not at all concerned that my hair is unstyled, and happy to play with my dogs—who just might drool on him. I hope, when he tells me that he, too, loves animals, he doesn't mean that he loves them in the way that requires him to sanitize his hands every time he touches them. I hope my husband honestly cares what I think, and doesn't (as previous husband) pat my head condescendingly and say, "Rach, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to think!" I hope he has informed opinions about politics and government, history and economics, religion and culture—I don't care whether or not our opinions align. I hope he honestly finds me beautiful—unshowered and make-up-less—and is able to tell me so. I hope he can't keep his hands off me.

It's not asking too much, really—but it's harder than you'd think. And I hate first/second/third dates, which doesn't help my odds at all. I hate fearing that people will discover all kinds of weird things about me that they'll find appalling. I hate feeling like my date is just trying to say "the right things" and be impressive. I wish we could just lay it all out, but most people aren't like that. And then, when I'm like that, my dates probably think I'm a total weirdo. I don't care. And so I give up. [JULY 19 2008]

Wisdom
I've been working on an article about love and marriage lately. When I re-read my draft, I was struck by one of my sentences. I think it's a classic: "Wisdom doesn't always come with age—but it rarely comes without it." [JULY 18 2008]

Disney
I watched The Little Mermaid last night, since I used to love that movie when I was younger. I know I've said it before, but seriously: it's disturbing to me now. Ariel's ultimate goal is what? Getting her man. And what's the trade she makes to get him? She trades in her voice for a great pair of legs. Honest to God: it's the story of the ages, isn't it? [JUNE 29 2008]

Tao Te Ching
I've been studying Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching for the past couple weeks, using Dr. Wayne Dyer's writings to help me. There are lots of ideas to discover. One of my favorites is the idea that, as physical beings, we are naturally drawn to categorizing and compartmentalizing things in order to better understand our own physical selves and our world. But "good" cannot be "good" without the idea of "bad." The idea of beauty produces the idea of ugliness, and vice-versa. The idea of life could not exist without the idea of death.

We attach these labels because we're human, but the natural world around us does not. Animals, for example, have no need to be weighed down with thoughts of how they should be, or how much better their lives would be if they'd lose 20 pounds, or get that promotion, or finally pay off that mortgage. Finny does not covet Lucky's unique eyes, and Lucky does not covet Finny's pretty red hair.

Humans would be far better off if we'd strive to live lives that don't rely on labels and categories and comparisons. Things are the way they are, period. People look the way they look, period. Tulips and roses do not envy each other. [JUNE 29 2008]

Espanol
Though I've been trying to learn Spanish for some time now, there's only one phrase I really have down pat: "To continue in Spanish, press 2." [JUNE 27 2008]

Hilarity
My boss mentioned this site, and he's right: it's hilarious. [JUNE 20 2008]

Confirmation
The world has officially gone horribly, horribly wrong. [JUNE 20 2008]

Surrender
What happens in adulthood that causes us to surrender all the best parts of ourselves: our silly, goofy, zany, friendly, trusting, best selves—the selves that completely lack pretension and self-doubt, that are willing to dance and sing in crowds of strangers, and tell people unashamedly how much we love and need them?

Appropriate or not, my 4-year-old self will be making more and more frequent appearances in the coming months, until finally she is the only person I truly know. [JUNE 16 2008]

Words I Never Imagined Would Escape My Lips
Tonight the following words came out of my mouth: "It's okay; I can take the anus."

I'd never imagined, in my youth and naiveté, that I'd have occasion to speak those words. But tonight I took Lucky to our first appointment at a new veterinarian. I knew that Lucky would get nervous and spray her anus, and I could see that the vet tech was nervous about holding her. So when I hoisted Lucky up on the examination table, I proudly proclaimed, "I'll hold her for you. It's okay; I can take the anus." My life is a comedy of ridiculous proportions. It's a life of trivial trials, a lottery of meaningless tragedies and miniature victories. Tonight was one of those victories, dear readers: Lucky was scared, you can be assured. But she didn't spray her anus.

But even if she had, it's okay. I can take the anus. [JUNE 4 2008]

Imperfection
All of life's greatest, truest, purest things can be found in a million imperfections. [MAY 14 2008]

Beautiful
I am beautiful in all but the most obvious of ways. [MAY 13 2008]

Cynicism? Nah!
I wouldn't choose to relive my twenties for all the cash in the world. Never mind that. I would relive them—but only if I could take my 30-something-year-old brain with me. And only if I didn't have to live in an apartment, or with roommates. And only if I earned as much money as I do now. And I didn't have to go to stupid general education classes, or work at Napa Auto Parts or the Saint Cloud Times or Bremer Financial Services or the Sociology department. And I still had Lucks and Finn, and my neighbors Gary and Brenda, and my studio piano and book collection and nice furniture. And only if I could take with me the understanding that boys are just trying to get a piece of ass when they tell me that I have "the most beautiful eyes [they've] ever seen." (Come on, guys: a little ingenuity never hurt!) And only if...well, the list could go on and on.

The only part of my twenties that I would really, truly love to have back? The naivete with which I viewed people's motives, and the completely unearned trust I gave them. I can't decide if, in my thirties, I'm just smarter about how I view people, or if the distrust and cynicism I feel toward strangers is completely unwarranted. I don't want to be a cynical, jaded girl. I really don't. But I can't imagine what the hell it would take for me to just let my guard down and accept the idea that people aren't gonna eventually screw me over. Hmmm... [MAY 3 2008]

Regret, Part 1 (An Anti-Ode to Bar Boys)
You’re funny and sweet and oh-so-unique
But just when the beers are a-pouring.
In the broad light of day (I’m sorry to say)
You’re cocky and clueless and boring. [APRIL 26 2008]

Pesky Heroin Addictions
One of my chief dislikes about first dates is the dinstinct feeling I get that these initial meetings are little more than lies and misrepresentations made to package oneself in the best possible light. Like a damn job interview. Which, if you think about it, is a RIPE setup for disappointment and disillusionment later on.

Perhaps it flies in the face of all dating rules, but I'd rather just get shit out in the open, immediately. I don't want to fall madly in love with someone, and then 6 months later find out about that pesky heroin addiction they conveniently neglected to mention. I don't want to fall in love with an illusion of someone; I want to adore that person as is, morning breath and annoying Food Channel-watching habits and all.

Here are things I wish every date knew about me, right off the bat. If he hated these things, then I wouldn't have to waste my time going out with him. Whether these qualities are good, bad, or otherwise is immaterial—it's who I am, and lying about it is pretty damn pointless.

• I like to be outside and actually enjoy getting dirty.
• I think too much. I over-analyze everything. I worry about stuff: poverty, sexism, HIV, politics, war, animal welfare, rural sustainability, my lawn. I used to reject these qualities, but superb and over-active thinking is what allows me to be a writer. I have learned to accept this. You must learn to accept this, too.
• I can make myself "pretty" if I have to, but I really hate it. I usually clip my hair back and wear flannel pants and sweatshirts. I understand that this is not cute, but really: the body underneath is the same regardless of how it's covered.
• On the plus side of this anti-prettiness routine, you can rest happily knowing that I'll never become distressed over a broken nail or a bad hair day. And I can be ready to go just as fast as you can. Or faster.
• I like to spend time alone. Like, a LOT of time alone. I'm not sure whether this is because I haven't met the "right" person, or whether I really am just a solitary person. You should be secure, though, and not take it personally when I don't want to see you every night. Or every other night. Or every three nights.
• I love my dogs. They are allowed on my furniture, and they sleep in my bed. I will always have at least one dog for the rest of my life. This is non-negotiable.
• I am sarcastic. People never know if I truly am the cocky person I sometimes pretend to be. I am not. I have a lot of insecurities, which are better revealed on later dates.
• I am goofy, and fun, and sometimes ridiculous. I'm perfectly willing and completely unembarassed when busting out dance moves in the middle of the grocery store.
• I really and truly don't want to hear about how much money you make, or how many famous people you know, or how your biceps were featured in Muscle magazine. You can impress me much more easily with your intelligence and thoughtfulness and compassion and modesty.
• I have no interest in running a marathon; eating a low-fat, low-carb, organic-only diet; or waking up at dawn to "hit the gym." This is very unlikely to change.

That's all I can think of for now. [APRIL 18 2008]

30 Life Lessons Accumulated Over 30 Years

1. No matter how smart you are, you don't know everything.
2. No matter how perfect you are, you will make mistakes. Some big ones.
3. Love is a two-way street, with lots of One Way and Yield signs.
4. Love requires patience.
5. Marriage requires work.
6. Marry someone who treats you with kindness and respect.
7. Don't marry someone who doesn't—no matter what.
8. Don't quibble over stupid details.
9. Nagging is neither attractive nor productive.
10. Divorce is excrutiatingly, indescribably difficult. It will make you a different person. Avoid it. If you can't avoid it, know that you will get through it.
11. Don't allow anyone to speak for you. No matter how good their intentions, they don't know what's best for you.
12. Your "circle of life" can, with a little work, be stretched into an oval, squared off around the corners, and built into a perfectly good rectangle.
13. Outer beauty does not, will not, cannot last.
14. Inner beauty does not, will not, cannot erode.
15. Read everything you can get your hands on.
16. Be grateful for everything you have. Write it down. Recognize how blessed you are. Say thank you.
17. Social norms are for normal people, and there is no greater insult than to be called "normal."
18. If you love someone, tell them so.
19. If you hate someone, don't tell them so.
20. Shave your legs (or, as the Boy Scouts say, "Be Prepared").
21. Wear comfortable shoes. Take care of your feet.
22. Listen to good music as often as you can.
23. Always have at least one dog.
24. Pretend all those annoying drivers on the road are your mom. Let them cut you off. Smile at them.
25. No one else is responsible for making you happy.
26. Be nice.
27. Meditate regularly.
28. Don't worry about tomorrow.
29. Think.
30. Surround yourself with good people who make you smile. [MARCH 3 2008]