The One Where She Stops Being Polite And Starts Getting Real

I had intended for my next post here at WWYN to be a salute to Poetry Month, featuring poets that I enjoy and in some cases, know personally.  Still working on that one, but I had a few big ass thoughts to share in the meantime.

As I figured out with the last post about Facebook, a vast majority of those that I am virtual “friends” with I don’t talk to very often.  Perhaps you are a friend of a friend, perhaps I flew with you once and we hit it off and the wheel of scheduling fortune hasn’t put us together again, or maybe you live far away as I’ve lived a few places.  Well, sit right down because I’m going to get all interpersonal on your asses.

My life is currently better than it’s ever been.  I just agreed to be involved in an eight week course in storytelling, which is my creative passion, and I’m really thrilled about it.  Spring is FINALLY showing itself here in Chicago, and there is always something fun going on.  I am surrounded by friends to enjoy the city with and I have a job with amazing flexibility that provides me the time and the dough to really dig in to my new hometown, to go to school, to not just survive, but to really LIVE on a level I never imagined possible.

In trying to make the above scenario even better, I’ve assessed the relationships in my life.  I have been in Chicago almost two years and I’ve been putting a lot of effort into building a support system here.  My work friends are fantastic, but the job puts people away from home a great deal, which makes spending time together challenging.  I’ve opted to try to cultivate relationships with people who are here all the time, and I’ve been pleased with the results for the most part.  But starting new relationships has been an exercise in “What do I want in a friend….what’s really important here?”  Heavy stuff.  Here’s what I’ve figured out.

I was raised with one sibling, my brother who is autistic.  My parents were divorced early on, leaving my mother with some serious responsibilities.  She remarried, but from day one the message sent to me was loud and clear…..DO NOT NEED ANYTHING.  EVER.  It’s inconvenient, your brother is already a huge burden, you need to be part of the solution and not part of the problem.  I received this message and acted accordingly.

Fast forward to my adult life, I've gravitated towards situations that were all take and no give as they felt like what I was accustomed to.  It’s just with this latest era of awesome that I’ve had to assess what I really need out of people in my life and the answer is RECIPROCITY.  I’m not saying the people in my life cannot have problems, in fact, quite the opposite.  I will talk to you until we’re all blue in the face, I will make dinner and bring wine,  I will hold your hair while you barf, I will put you in bed, I will make you breakfast.  Over and over until you are better.  I have had my share of problems; I’ve struggled with depression, and have attempted to fill up the empty place in my soul with booze (FYI as it’s a depressant AND a liquid, this is an automatic FAIL) and have had copious amounts of reassurance to get me where I am now, self confident and ready to take the world by the balls, most days.  But there are still some people who I only hear from when they want things, that are all talk and no action, that have a lot of redeeming qualities but reciprocating friendship is not their strong suit. 

I’m putting these people on notice.  I have no time for those with no time.  As I mentioned, my current life climate has never been sunnier, but firings will continue until morale improves.

Much like everyone thinks they have great taste and superior driving skills, when we all know that can't possibly be true, not many people realize that they are emotional vampires.  It’s just a blind spot we all have in ourselves.  I’ve had favorable results from being honest with people (a VERY recent phenomenon) and that’s how it will be handled, case by case, person by person.

I’ll close with a poem from Langston Hughes...April is Poetry Month!

Advice

Folks, I'm telling you,
Birthing is hard
And Dying is mean
So get yourself
Some loving in between.

Life’s too short to not have it be filled with the kindness and respect that you deserve. It's more important than brain power or material crap or a perfect ass. Oh, and Ice Cube says check yourself before you wreck yourself.  That’s some smart advice as well.

Time to Facefacts!

I recently saw “The Social Network”, thought it was well written, well acted, but certainly not as good as all the hype.  My love for Justin Timberlake is embarrassing and ridiculous, but that’s not really what I came here to talk about.  What’s compelling about that story is that a guy fired up on wanting to get revenge on a girl who snubbed him used his computer brilliance to make a website that, in theory, brought people together.  He made friends along the way, friends that he would eventually betray and get sued by.  The last scene of the movie with Zuckerberg, alone,  looking at the Facebook profile of the girl that started the whole thing, was strangely chilling and got me thinking about this thing we call “social” networking.

Originally I thought FB was one of those things that only idiot twenty somethings did, I chalked it up as Myspace 2.0.  My former boyfriend was on FB years ago as many of his students told him it was their preferred method of communication, which sealed my disdain.  I used to tell him that he had to be the oldest person on Facebook and that the whole thing was stupid.  One of my shittier qualities is that I pass judgment on things without getting the facts, which I will readily admit to.  A few years back I got a Facebook invite from a gal I knew in my twenties and figured, all right, let’s see what’s going on here, in an attempt to not fall into my usual hater hole.  As time went on, I found loads of people from the past, most of whom I was thrilled to see to get the current scoop on, and I took some satisfaction in seeing that people I chose as friends long ago were still really wonderful people currently leading (seemingly) happy lives.  But what lies beneath?  I feel the need to BREAK IT DOWN.

Things I enjoy about Facebook:

1)    Fun quips from fun people.  It’s a snark circus and I enjoy an opportunity to have a sass volley.    Plain and simple, I like to make people laugh, it makes me happy.

2)   Music videos.  I love tunes, old and new, and I don’t listen to the radio currently, so I get a lot out of my musically inclined FB friends.

3)   Seeing photos/getting updates on people who live far away, as well as people I work with that I don’t see enough.  It does make them feel a bit closer.

4)   Asking a wide range of people’s opinions on practical matters, like buying a new blender.

5)   Getting info about goings on around town, etc.

Things I seriously don’t get:

1)    Checking in everywhere.  I’m happy you’re getting a burrito/working out/going to work, but unless you are someplace really impressive, I’m not sure I need to know about it.  Again, there may be some bigger picture answer to why people do this, and my mind is open to hearing about it.

2)   Bitching/looking for sympathy.  I am not against either of these things, I do a good deal of both of them, but I really feel that you need real people in real time for this.  Again, your mileage may vary, I suppose if you don’t have access to talking to someone on the phone or meeting them, then FB solace is better than nothing.  I just don’t feel comfortable reading people’s private matters in most cases. Those who know me know I am the queen of TMI, hell, I told a hundred plus strangers about a one night stand I had recently….I really have no shame.  But it was person to person, I guess that’s the distinction I’m making here.

3)   The weird friend collector people.  I have three people I have blocked on FB, one of whom I considered to be a friend until he did something unspeakably douchey (in person), the other two I didn’t know, got sucked into discussions of music (oddly, in both cases, discussing David Bowie) and ended up going down some weird interpersonal friendship/romance rabbit hole that crashed and burned.  No major repercussions as in both cases our relationship wasn’t based in reality, just a general waste of time and energy, fueled by loneliness/boredom.  But it was an eye opener to what’s out there, people who spend their time in some strange fantasy life….apparently it’s not enough to play Farmville or Mob Wars, they need to play emotional games with other humans.  Creepy.

Here is my friend breakdown.  I have 193 Facebook friends as this moment….a pretty standard amount.  There are very few people I don’t actually KNOW in real life, at least to some degree.  I am “friends” with one Top Chef, one member of the Fastbacks, one fabulous lady comic who used to be married to a guy I worked with….that’s the extent of my FB starfuckery.  Oh, and I’m friends with a friend’s dog.

 

Friends from work = 84

Friends from elementary/high school = 28

Friends from my past life as an adult = 46

Friends of friends that seem great but we don’t actually hang out = 20

Other folks of Chicago that I’ve met through 2^nd Story, etc = 11

Family members = 4

That brings us to 193.  I put a star by everyone that I talk to regularly; either in person, or by phone/text/email, if that’s not possible.  Stars = 19.  People of those 19 that I would feel comfortable calling at 2 am with an emergency = 9.  I used to refer to this as people you would call if you got a flat tire, but I no longer own a car, so let’s just say there are 9 people who I would feel comfortable contacting with one of life's metaphorical flat tires.  Then there’s the real world.  My BFF is not on FB, she tried it and proclaimed it was a party she didn’t want to be at, that it didn’t make her world better, just louder.  I recently made her the beneficiary of all my assets in the event of my death, and she is the person I list as an emergency contact when I do things that require such a thing.  Should I ever find Mr. Right and get married, I guess he can have all my dough when I kick the bucket, but until then/if that doesn’t happen, the girl who has loved me unconditionally for the last ten years has earned every cent of that money if I were to be hit by a bus tomorrow.  Although she might be secretly trying to poison me….that’s why I always switch drinks with her when she’s not looking.  The only person I seriously dated over the last two years wouldn’t be on Facebook if you put a gun to his head, and since his house is full of guns, this wouldn’t be hard to prove. 

Am I bashing Facebook?  No.  I like what it provides.  But in some ways, it’s relationship junk food, to be enjoyed in small quantities, in addition to real quality human interaction.  As my super wise friend Colleen says, “it is what it is, and it ain’t what it ain’t.”  Food for Facethought.

Is There A Nonstop To Suffragette City?

Over the weekend I took a writing workshop where when I was done reading my story, I was asked the big question, “So what is this story REALLY about?”  When putting down an actual event from your history on paper, you are forced to ask yourself (or in the case of the workshop, answer to others), “What do I want others to get out of this?  Why THIS story?  What’s the fucking point here?”  Getting to the meta of the matter, perhaps.  My reply was that EVERY story I write seems to lead to the same place, my desire to express how powerful it can be to be a woman.  I’ve been concerned about burning out this theme, but then I pondered, what else is more important to talk about?

Today is the 100^th anniversary of International Women’s Day.  From internationalwomensday.com: International Women's Day is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future. In some places like China, Russia, Vietnam and Bulgaria, International Women's Day is a national holiday.  I wouldn’t have known about it if I hadn’t been a fan of Annie Lennox on Facebook, which shows how much I was paying attention.  I appreciate that it is a celebration of women’s achievements, and there are so many to celebrate!  But women still make less money than men, violence against women is still a major concern (according to Amnesty International, at least one out of every three women worldwide has been beaten, coerced into sex, or otherwise abused in her lifetime, with rates of domestic violence reaching 70% in some countries), and rape is a weapon of war.  From a Time magazine article on IWD of 2010: “What does it tell us that female soldiers deployed overseas stop drinking water after 7 p.m. to reduce the odds of being raped if they have to use the bathroom at night? Or that a soldier who was assaulted when she went out for a cigarette was afraid to report it for fear she would be demoted — for having gone out without her weapon? Or that, as Representative Jane Harman puts it, "a female soldier in Iraq is more likely to be raped by a fellow soldier than killed by enemy fire."  I could continue to quote sources and get myself into a lather about this, it makes me so fucking pissed off.  Which leads us to, what do we do?

Good question.  There are many good organizations that support women on all sorts of levels, if you want to make a monetary donation or volunteer with them, I’d leave it up to you to research which ones you really feel good about.  There are cool campaigns like NOW’s Love Your Body, WeAreEquals.org, Change.org has many worthy causes, your neighborhood no doubt has a women’s shelter, and again I could go on and on.  But let’s talk about things on a smaller level.  Do you know someone who’s in an abusive relationship?  Can you lend an ear?  We all figure that adults can take care of themselves, but have you offered your opinion and your support to help?  Do you have women in your life that have low self esteem?  (If you’re saying NO, you either know no women or have amazingly evolved friends and I’d like to hear your secret)  Have you told these women how beautiful, how smart, how important they are?  Do you know someone with an eating disorder?  I’m sure you see what I’m getting at here. 

But what if you got to the heart of the matter and looked at yourself?   I had plans to spend some time with a gentleman friend of mine this coming weekend;  he’s a nice enough man that I’ve encouraged myself to hang out with even though we have no long term potential as he’s nice, good looking, he bakes pies, plays the piano, and means well.  And the world at large would tell me at my advanced age (44), that I should be happy with what I can get in that department.  What I was ignoring in this equation is that this most happy fellow doesn’t particularly care about what goes on in my life, has no interest in my friends or family, and often makes remarks that convey his insecurity about the fact that I make more money than he does, a fact that means nothing to me.  I’ve just been accentuating the positive, eliminating the negative, latching on to the affirmative and spending time with Mr. In Between.  I thought it over carefully, realizing I’d rather be alone than trying to make a half full glass more than it is.  Even for one weekend.

Years ago I saw Maya Angelou speak in Seattle.  She was, of course, charming and lovely and moving with every well chosen word.  Before reciting “Phenomenal Woman”, perhaps her best known poem, she told us all that a man had recently stopped her to tell her how much he loved and admired the poem, HOWEVER, what about men?  They are strong and sensitive and have love to give and can be great husbands and fathers.  They deserved to be acknowledged for their accomplishments as well, no?  Maya’s response?  “Write your own damn poem.”  So there you go.

Before you think I’ve gone all feminazi/man basher on you, I do feel that some man, perhaps even more than one, holds the keys to my heart, which is currently closed for repairs.  But he’s going to have to dangle them in my face, because for right now I’m busy.  Busy trying to make every day a better place for Team Vagina.  I would LOVE to hear any input you have on this subject, or any other, if you’re reading this.  Happy International Women’s Day, friends. 

PHENOMENAL WOMANby Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing of my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

There's No Place Like Homo

I recently did a reading at Webster’s Wine Bar in Chicago for 2^nd Story, where I was honored to have a good turnout of my fabulous friends.  The second night one of the other storytellers remarked, “I’ve come to the conclusion that any good looking guy who comes up the stairs is here to see YOU”.  Yep, it’s true…..all of the hot boys of Chicago came to see yours truly, mostly paired off with other hot boys.  Since I was old enough to sneak out of the house and drink Zima, I have attracted more homos than you can shake a dick at.  Before the term “fag hag” jumps into your head, let’s replace it with my friend Heather’s kinder, gentler, “fag mag”….as in the fags are magnetically drawn to me.  For thirty plus years now, I’ve had instant chemistry with dudes who quickly ask, “You know I’m gay, right?”  Bitch, please.  I saw you checking out the waiter’s ass.  And I noticed your ears perk up when they started playing Culture Club.  And you’re wearing your sister’s Jordache jeans.  And if you found me in a sea of people for no apparent reason…. wait for it….YOU’RE FUCKING GAY.

Why do they find me?  I’m not completely sure, but most likely it has to do with the peace I’ve made with my masculine side….I often run around disheveled, I like vulgar jokes, I get loud after a few drinks, generally speaking my mind in a voice so low that customer service people refer to me as “Sir” on the telephone.  I don’t really follow the “Nice Girls Act Like This” rules, mostly because I’ve perceived them as being NO DAMN FUN AT ALL.  Sure, straight guys might be unamused.  But do I want to hang out with some guy looking for a prissy girl or do I want to talk shit and dance to Madonna?  Your mileage may vary, but I pick B every time.

Why do I love the gay boys back with all my heart?  Easy.  They hold the secrets of the universe.  They have better relationships than any of my straight friends for a good handful of reasons.  Among my gay friends, the following are true:  They have mutual respect for each other.  They like to have fun.  They are romantic and thoughtful.   And here’s a biggie, THEY ARE WILLING TO ADMIT THEY WANT TO FUCK OTHER PEOPLE.  Straight people seem to have this ridiculous notion that they are supposed to want to only screw one person forever and ever.  NOT POSSIBLE.  I’m not saying monogamy isn’t a great goal, but let’s admit that it’s difficult.  Seriously.  Everyone THINKS about getting a little strange now and then, gay couples are willing to put those cards on the table and even play them sometimes.  And I’d venture to guess that they cheat less because of it.  It’s like if you’re on a diet and all you can think about is the forbidden cake.  If everyone says you can eat the cake, somehow your obsession with the cake wanes.  Also they give a shit about what they look like.  I’m not talking six pack abs and manscaping here….it’s just nice to see a general fashion sense.  When I was in Paris, I thought “how can every man on the Metro be gay?”  Then I realized that was my assumption as they were all wearing dress shoes.  Kind of a sad state of affairs.  I’m all for being comfortable, to be sure, but if you’re going on a date with a gal, would it kill you to not wear a T-shirt you’ve had since high school?  If you even had an iota of an idea of the prep we do to ourselves if we even think we might sleep with you (plucking, waxing, shaving, moisturizing, perfuming, push up bras, Spanx, high heels, ETC!), you’d hopefully agree that you should put forth a little effort to be presentable.

They also are great listeners and great advisers on all things sex related.  No one’s going to tell you how to suck a dick better than a guy with a dick who sucks dick.  It’s like the Holy Grail of dick data.  I’m just sayin’. 

I did some work with some friends here in Chicago with It Gets Better Project a few months back, where the participants told stories of bullying and abuse that they were subjected to growing up because they were gay or even just "different"...we all know that still goes on today.  The fact that assholes like the Donald and Rush Limbaugh are against gay marriage when they themselves trade in their wives as often as they trade in their cars is hypocrisy on the highest level and Elton John should have to turn in his gay card for playing Rush’s wedding.  Or at least write “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word”  ten thousand times on the blackboard.  If you are a parent, you need to rail against this bullshit.  Quoting the fantabulous Maya  Angelou…” Prejudice is a burden that confuses the past, threatens the future and renders the present inaccessible.”   We all have to pick our battles, but those who espouse a bunch of ignorance fueled venom should not be tolerated.

Not sure if any straight guys have even made it to the end of this, but you can learn a few things from our gay friends.  If I can embrace my masculine side, you can embrace your feminine side.  It’s okay to smell good and like dumb songs on the radio and be a good dancer and talk about your feelings (I assume you have some) and let your guard down.  And for Team Vagina, if you’re feeling low, go out to the nearest gay bar you can find, order a drink, and start dancing.  You’ll soon be surrounded by hot guys who love you enough to tell you that your ass does indeed look fat in those pants and you are going NOWHERE with that hair.  And you will love them for it.

The Mother Of All Top Tens

Last week while in Mexico, I treated myself to a water shiatsu massage.  It appealed to me as it was something I hadn't done before and I was shopping for an interesting experience...I can get a back rub anywhere.  The guy who did the massage had a handful of unusual questions before we got started, the first was if I had ever experienced any sort of accident or trauma in the water.  Nope.  The second was "What do you know or remember about your birthing experience?  About when you came from your mother?"  Okay, so much for small talk, dude.  My answer was that I had absolutely no information about that at all.  But it got me to thinking about mamas and related dramas.
 
I will start by saying that my mother is a kind, wonderful, generous person who has survived seemingly unsurmountable obstacles and remained stylish all the while.  She drives me bananas sometimes, but this is true of most mothers, from what I gather.  She, above all others, is responsible for how I turned out, and I think I turned out pretty well.  Here are the things she taught me without saying a word....the top of the list are charactistics I cherish and adore, the bottom of the list I have written off as pure horse shit.
 
1) Your intellect is very important and you should always be cultivating your brain power.
2) Helping people is a key source of self worth.
3) A winning personality can open a lot of doors.
4) Arts, culture, music, literature, movies bring great joy and empowerment.
5) You should always present the best image you can to others, even if it's all a facade.
6) Growing older is terrible and should be avoided.
7) Money and material possessions should be your utmost priority.
8) Other women are potentially your competition, not your allies, so act accordingly.
9) Men cannot be counted on for anything.
10) You should never be without a man...... making #9 very, very confusing.
 
The lessons you learn from your parents teachings, both through words and actions, make up who you are.  I've grown a great deal by accepting and  rejecting these lessons.....what you choose not to be is as important as what you choose as your identity.   Our mothers teach us how to be women, which is something we should strive to do well.  Not sure how it is for guys, but I've learned the hard way that guys who don't love and respect their mothers are bad news.  
 
Thanks to all who take the time to read this blog...it's proven to be a great outlet for ideas that are bigger than Facebook, which most ideas are, but not enough for other projects.  The days I don't write are in black and white, the days I do are in color.  I used to feel that way about booze, so this is a big lifestyle improvement for me.  Thanks for being part of the colorization of my world.

Mazlow Goes To Mexico Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Give Myself A Big Fat Break

Screw Disneyland.  Rancho La Puerta is officially the happiest place on Earth.  Greetings from Tecate, Baja California, Mexico.  I am currently enjoying a week of hiking, yoga, meditation, clean air, great conversation, sun (finally! highs in the 60s), organic food, and technology rehab (once a day!)  Before you start screaming "Bitch, please!  I am working/freezing my ass off in FILL IN YOUR WONDERFUL CITY HERE and I can't hear this bullshit from you right now", stay with me.  Many people at the ranch are here tackling body related insecurities, to which I'm not a stranger.  But the more fascinating work is restructuring one's thought processes.  The main thing I've been concentrating on is making peace with the top ten things I beat myself up over.  Drum roll, please....

1) Wasting time on the internet/Facebook
2) Drinking alcohol
3) Eating too much/eating unhealthy food
4) Using humor, particularly sarcasm, to convey my feelings
5) Using profanity all the fucking time
6) Boy craziness
7) Talking when I really should STFU and listen
8) Being quiet/tuning out when I really should say something
9) Seeing the world through poop colored glasses (negativity)
10) Worrying obsessively about 1-9.

Ironically, I think a good bunch of the items on the list above would make other people's lists of what they like about me.  Make your own list, it may surprise you.

I think of how I treat my nearest and dearest....unconditional support and understanding, respect and admiration, forgiveness and mercy, belief and loyalty.  It feels so great to feel that way about our friends....what if you extended those same feelings to yourself?  How fucking amazing would that be?  (already making peace with #5)

I'll shut up now (making peace with #8).  I'm off to see about getting a water shiatsu massage from a hunky guy with tribal tattoos (making peace with #6).

Identity theft.....Defer. Detect. Defend.

Disclaimer: Opinions expressed here are just opinions; your mileage may vary.  I invite you to tell me to your point of view…in fact it’s the goal. 

While trying to claw my way to the top of Maslow’s triangle of needs (see photo), I have done a lot of pondering about identity.

i·den·ti·ty:   the distinct personality of an individual regarded as a persisting entity.

What defines you, if anything?  Here are the answers I most commonly witness:

YOUR JOB.  Hey, it’s the American way.  Work really hard, buy lots of stuff.  If you are lucky enough to get paid to do something you truly enjoy, you should feel very fortunate.  If not, you are in good company.  No job is great every day, in every way, but are you miserable?  Can you change jobs?  Or change your attitude?  If you work all the time on a regular basis with no end in sight (busting ass for a finite period to pay off credit cards, buy specific big ticket items, save for a vacation, etc, understandable), why is this the set up?  Taking pride in how you make a living can be very fulfilling, even if you have a job you don’t particularly like, there is satisfaction to be derived by doing it as well as you can, regardless.  But I’d venture to guess that no one goes to their deathbed saying they wished they would have worked more, at least no one I want to hang out with.

YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER.  If you’ve made your better half responsible for your happiness, you’ve relinquished something that is your responsibility and given them a shitty job, one where they’re destined to let you down.  In my perfect world, your partner is your best friend that you get to sleep with (score!) that also props you up when you’re down, believes in your potential and does everything they can do to help you realize your dreams.  Perhaps you have a different definition…but if you’re in a committed relationship, ask yourself how far off is your current situation from your ultimate ideal?  Is your ideal fair and reasonable?  What can YOU do to make it as good as it can be?

From Alain de Botton: "Every fall into love involves the triumph of hope over self-knowledge. We fall in love hoping we won't find in another what we know is in ourselves, all the cowardice, weakness, laziness, dishonesty, compromise, and stupidity. We throw a cordon of love around the chosen one and decide that everything within it will somehow be free of our faults. We locate inside another a perfection that eludes us within ourselves, and through our union with the beloved hope to maintain (against the evidence of all self-knowledge) a precarious faith in our species."

I guess the upshot of that is to be clear about what you need, but go easy with your expectations.

YOUR CHILDREN:  Territory where I’m going to tread VERY lightly, as I don’t have children and never will.  I do feel it’s the most important and the hardest job that a person can have.  I’ve met a lot of your children….they, like you, are smart and funny and delightful and completely worthy of your adoration.  But you can ask my mother, one day you will not be able to get them to go to a real college, you’ll come up with some half assed tech school compromise and after graduation they’ll run away and start bartending on top of Mount Bumfuck, JUST TO PISS YOU OFF.  Not really, but to a certain extent it’s their job to NOT listen to you and make their own (stupid) decisions.  Rest assured, things will still turn out fine. 

YOUR HOBBIES: Having pastimes that you enjoy is a kick ass way to express yourself.  But are they compromising your relationship with your job, your partner, your children?  It’s your time, if you want to spend a million hours playing Farmville, have at it.  I’m not judging, I enjoy a lot of guilty pleasures.  But take a moment to consider what you’re choosing to do as well as what you’re choosing not to do and why.

At this point you’re probably thinking “Where on Earth does Miss Thing have all this time and energy to be telling me what to do with my life?”  It really all comes from not having a partner or children, on top of having a job that I do just enough to get by, a job where I am delightfully replaceable.  Am I envious of your relationships, your children, your super careers?  Sometimes.  But I’ve chosen to be excited about the cards I was dealt most of the time.  I have opted to surround myself with wonderful, supportive people who have time and enthusiasm for me, which I am honored to reciprocate.  I’ve found it to be the key to a happy life.  Not every day in every way, but enough to keep me working my way up the triangle, having the time of my life doing it.  I have far more questions than I have answers, but that's what keeps life interesting.