And let the spitting begin…

Is spitting universal???

I sat watching the World Series last night and I was amazed that I enjoyed the game. No, I did not watch the entire thing because there were just a few too many programming options on last night.  I have not watched a game of baseball since being a small kid.  Baseball is a past time that I associate with my grandfather, his tobacco, and sitting on his lap watching a game I did not understand.  Yes, the concept is easy enough to grasp, a guy swings a bat at a ball, but that does not negate the fact that the game bored me to death.  As a grown up, I held on to the belief that baseball was mundane and never stop to learn the logistics of the past time.

I think my granddad would be proud. I gave the game a chance and I realized, although the game is still beyond the scope of my attention span, I can still enjoy it. However, that does not mean that I watched the World Series without questions. Some questions based on naiveté about the game, why is it the “World Series” when it is two American teams?, would never be asked in a crowded room out loud. Others were rooted from a sociological perspective, my graduate program has me scrutinizing group interactions, and I wondered, “Why do men spit?”

Ok, it may not have been the most thought provoking question during the game but it was something that I noticed after watching a few players. Then early this morning, after I made my way into Starbucks to purchase a cup of hot tea, the gentleman crossing the street with me spit. Not on me or at me, thank goodness! I couldn’t help but to think, “What if it had been windy?” Would some of the junk out of his mouth flown on me???? Or even worse, in the $2 cup of tea that I had just purchased!

I started thinking, my brother spits often, my ex spits often, a good friend of mine spits often, and there seems to be no rhyme or reason as to why. They do not spit out chewing tobacco, they do not spit out sunflower seed, they are not playing a sport when they do it, nor is the phlegm a by-product of a cold. As a female, perhaps I just do not understand the methodology. I tried coughing up some phlegm to spit, needless to say, it didn’t go well. So after searching frantically for a tissue and wiping off my chin and shoe, I resorted to good old fashion research.

Typically, when there is a question in which I do not know the answer, I Google or search the library catalog, which is bookmarked for easy access. Yeah, I am a nerd. Surprisingly, there were tons of blogs, articles, and commentary about the same phenomena.  The consensus from women is that it is disgusting and I agree. If I am standing outside holding a conversation with a guy, the last thing that I want to see him do is cough up a huge wad of spit and project it onto the ground. If there was a slight urge to kiss that guy, trust me, it evaporated quickly once the phlegm flew past my head.

Now, that I researched and found that there is not a specific reason as to why guys do it and that it could just be habit. Another explanation is that it is a method of marking territory or just trying to look “cool.” The bigger issue is that this act has become socially acceptable. Why?  It is still gross, whether it is an athlete or regular guy.

If I could stop one heart from breaking

Well, I was never a big fan of Emily Dickinson but as of late, I have really enjoyed the poems that I read. It must require a certain level of maturity and heartache to fully understand the power of the words. I thought that I would share.

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

~Emily Dickinson

Some other lifetime…

“For every thing you have missed, you have gained something else; and for every thing you gain, you lose something” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Right now, I think I have a low tolerance for bullshit. I have a ton of headaches, worries, and I am trying not to feel overwhelmed. Usually, retail therapy mellows out my moodiness but with the self-imposed budget. I can only window-shop now. Heck, even the weird crazy dating scenarios of my friends and even mine have come to a halt. That makes it difficult to talk about “relationship stuff” on my blog when there isn’t “relationship stuff” ongoing in my life. BOOOOO!!!!!

I know that I wanted to slow things down a tad, this semester is  starting to take a toll on me. I have 5 papers due for the end of the semester for my graduate program. I just completed three tonight and I wonder if I am developing carpal tunnel from doing a lot of typing. I spend a large portion of my day in front of the computer, I apply for jobs, I write papers, I read blogs, I listen to downloaded podcast, I read e-books, and download music. Heck, if my computer was a guy, this would be a perfect relationship. Well, almost…

Last night, I did have a great but brief conversation with a former coworker that made me wish that I had accepted his offer to go out after work.  Of course, I never would have gone out with him had we continued to work together, I reflected on the time he asked after I had moved on to another position. Looking back, I realize that I passed on a lot of good guys to date one crappy one. I am not upset about it, I think it is a learning experience.  I began to consider how all the Mr. or Ms. Wrongs have entered a person’s life for a reason.

It is interesting to reflect on ridiculous love matches, petty arguments, and juvenile tendencies that occur throughout the span of a person’s life. How many of them did a person REALLY need to endure? Seriously, think about it for a second; what if you could change one minor thing to eliminate a dating dilemma? What if you were able to travel back to a specific time and just change something simple, would it have the disastrous butterfly effect? Instead of arriving five minutes late to dinner one evening and having a horrendous argument with your mate, you could travel back in time and arrive five minutes early. How would that impact things?

Ok Ok, forgive me, I just completed a paper discussing Postmodernism, Baudrillard, and hyperreality. My mind is still swimming in an alternate reality at the moment. But if you think about it, what if you could change something minor, would the implication be total chaos? What if in changing something minor, you improve the conditions of the future, would that be acceptable? I know for a fact, I would go back and take this guy up on an offer to go out for dinner after work. Perhaps if I had done so then, I would not be wondering about it now……..

The standard of good looks

A man’s face is his autobiography.  A woman’s face is her work of fiction.  ~Oscar Wilde

As I applied my makeup this morning, I recalled a conversation with a guy friend. He absolutely despises makeup on women and equates it to false advertising.  Honestly, to some extent I agree with him. No one should look like a fairy princess by day and werewolf at night. That is just plain wrong!

However, overly criticizing the average woman’s looks is just as offensive. In our defense, makeup, when used to enhance natural features is perfectly acceptable.  Men are guilty of false advertisements as well, many pretend to be a chivalrous prince charming when they really are a toad that no princess wants to kiss.

Now, this guy friend is the average good-looking guy, has an average paycheck, and lives an average lifestyle. I find absolutely nothing wrong with falling in the category of “average.” However, his standard for finding a woman to be apart of his life is far far far faaaaarrrrr from average. Do not get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with having high standards IF they are realistically attainable.

It would be different if the average pretty woman were the standard. NOOOOOO! That is not the case. With every movie, magazine, television show, and advertisement, images of the ideal woman bombard women like me.  I would have to forgo ever sleeping again to attain those standards. Truthfully, I like sleep.  And I like to sleep as much as possible.  I’d also  like to think that I’m attractive already but it would STILL require several hours of work to walk out of the house looking like Halle Berry. I do the most with what I got in the least amount of time possible, I cover up blemishes with Maybelline or Covergirl, make sure my lip-gloss is poppin’, and maybe curl my hair.

Based on his standards, a woman needs to have the looks of a model 24-hours/day and be smart like Einstein.  That alone would not be bad but that is just the tip of the iceberg. Let me take a deep breath before I continue. ***breathing***

… can cook like “Top Chef”  when bent over a kitchen counter trying a new karma sutra position requiring one leg straight in the air while balancing the checkbook adding all of her paycheck, which has six figures,  to the household income with one hand…***taking another breath***

…and playing “mommy” to four, five, or six children while cleaning the entire home in the blink of an eye with the other hand, not complaining and agreeing to everything he says because he is “king of the house”, while eagerly awaiting trying another karma sutra position which requires her to stand on her head while fluffing his pillows and running his bath water.

Oh, I almost forgot, the model looks and figure are suppose to last until she dies at the ripe old age of 95.

Well, maybe I embellished a little but his standards are that farfetched. I know that every person has their idea of beauty and finds various traits appealing but good grief! I never want to shoot down anyone’s dream but I do not think that will happen for him in this lifetime, maybe the next one.