Lousy Compliments and a Defense of Singledom

I really hope that what I'm about to say isn't offensive, especially to my married amigos, whose marital situation makes them the most likely party to be offended by what I'm about to say. But none of you are particularly thin-skinned, and I don't think what I'm going to say is going to be offensive at all ... I'm just throwing this out there: if you get offended, it's not my fault—I'm only speaking truth.

Today at church I was talking with one of the ladies in my parents' ward and she said to me, "Wow! You look so grown up!"

It felt like getting slapped in the face with a wet fish, having your cheeks pinched, and then getting handed a bubble wand and asked if you're lost from mommy and daddy.

I mean, I know she meant well. I'm completely aware of this, and honestly I really like her. But every bit of me wanted to just say, "Excuse me? I am older than your married daughter and your daughters-in-law. So I'm sorry that my singleness has me stuck at the kiddie table in your eyes, but that whole growing up thing? Yeah. Did that. I'm there. So, yes, I do indeed look 'grown up,' because I am, and you shouldn't think that saying that to me is a compliment, because it's not."

Am I making a mountain out of a molehill? No. I would be if I had actually said these things to her and made a scene, but I didn't, so I consider myself in the clear here. I'm just really irritated. I suppose I should take a step back and thank my lucky stars that I didn't get the same treatment as another young man my mom heard about. He was twenty-eight at the time of this particular event and he got called as the youth speaker in his ward while the twenty-three-ish married couple got the Real Speaker slots. I would have thrown a fit. Not because I want to give the twenty-minute talk, but because being single does not make me any less mature or less qualified to do anything I want to do than people who are married.

In fact, I'd like to note the fact that I'm significantly more mature than a lot of the married people I know. Especially some of the teen/freshman brides, good grief. Getting married at a young age is not a sign of maturity, particularly (I'm speaking generally here, so don't get your bristles up) in females. It just isn't. I don't know why people think that a relationship is an indicator of maturity. Older adults seem to understand this when we're in middle and high school—that leaping into relationships bears no indication of maturity at all, and is, in fact, more likely to indicate immaturity—but by the time you're half-past twenty-one, they seem to forget what was once more obvious than an inch-wide mole looming just south of someone's right eye.

The implication that I only look grown up is beyond irritating. Like, if I just look so grown up, but I'm obviously not actually grown up, why don't you hand me that tupperware of Fruit Loops, eh? Give me that blankie, and then let's head to the bathroom and you can change my diaper. Really, folks? That's nauseating. The more I write about it, the more irritated I get. Makes me want to punch something, like maybe a real baby. Then when I have to defend myself and they tell me I'm too old for such behavior, I can be like, "What? I thought I only looked grown up. My bad. From inside, I can't tell the difference between me and that baby. We're like the same."

Maybe I am being a baby and immature for writing this all. But I'm really annoyed. And many of you won't understand because you are married, and therefore don't get treated like an infant because of your marital status. Or maybe you do... I have no idea on how older adults infantilize young married adults, if they do so at all, because (as every #%*& person in my life is quick to point out) I'm Single as a Pringle, a Dollar Bill, a slice of American cheese, and so on and so forth. I'm not freaking married and I'm not really in a hurry to change that. I'm enjoying my life the way it is, and frankly, I've dated quite the number of people this year, and you know what? Didn't really fancy a one of them for long, if at all. If not liking them is my fault, well then tie me to the radiator and grape me right in the mouth for decades and decades (click HERE for a link to the video I'm referencing if you haven't seen it, so you don't think I'm a pervert) because I'm completely unrepentant in that department.

But seriously, I love my life. In a week and two days, I'm moving to London where I'll be living for three months. That would be significantly harder to do if I were married, and I'm excited to have this amazing experience and opportunity. I'm happy with who I am. I enjoy the freedom of being the only one I have to watch out for. And frankly, while I don't hate the idea of marriage, I still hate the label of being someone's "girlfriend" and how everyone and their dog gets emotionally invested in your relationship so that you feel pressure not just to make this one person happy, but their parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, former roommates, AND that guy from their freshman year calculus class. I'm sorry, but that kind of pressure kills me. I know, because I've tried. Not tried and given up: tried repeatedly, and found that I don't want relationships (whether they've started or not) with any of the people who have tried to date me thus far.

Don't anyone dare call that immaturity—it's just a different brand of maturity. It's the kind that says, "I'm not ready for this, and so I'm not going to thrust myself into a relationship or make myself unhappy just to fold to societal pressures. I'm brave enough to say no to the things I don't want." I mean, they teach us how to say no to drugs because they aren't good for us. So, my apologies for recognizing that some things aren't good for me, that other things are better for me, and for having the gumption to stand my ground and do myself (and all parties involved) a solid by remaining unwed. My apologies for not being a big enough jerk that I bring someone else down by getting myself into something I'm not ready for. I'd twenty times rather be where I am, living the life I am living, than be where some people I know have landed themselves, even some of those who purport to be happy. My apologies for saying, "No."

That's not to say that it'll always be no. I hope to high heavens that it's not always no. Someday, it'll be yes. But it'll be on my (/the Lord's) timetable. It'll be when I'm ready. It'll be when Mr. Right (on Time) saunters into my life. And so far, none of those things have happened.

So you'll excuse me for taking offense at the claim that I "look so grown up." I'm a lot more grown up than you think, and remaining unmarried is just one evidence of that.

Reflections on Valentine's Day

Yesterday may have been the best Valentine's Day of my life, to date. And just to answer your questions, yes, I'm as pathetically single as I've always been; and yes, I've always been pathetically single, at least always on Valentine's Day. So, if I've always been single and I'm still single, what on earth was I doing, rejoicing in a day that many people in my condition (pathetic single-ness) bitterly refer to as "Singles Awareness Day"?

Let me tell you.

I should probably first confess that I have not always been a fan of Valentine's Day. I was always annoyed with the gross couples in high school who always wanted to have their hands all over each other, and then shelled out $40+ for some huge, hideous stuffed animal that their significant other would have to drag around school all day, stare goopily at in every class, and take up everyone else's space with. And that was just the stuffed animal. There was usually also a few enormous boxes of chocolate, and heinous numbers of balloons that obstructed vision, and tended to pop when they hit the lights. (I'm very afraid of popping balloons.) Of course, it didn't help that I'm Mormon and therefore forbidden to date, and that I also had a propensity for balking in the face of PDA that I was expected to participate in, and also tended to reject anyone who tried to date me. Not like that was a huge number of people, but ya know, it happened from time to time. I have also been known to say that I don't like the idea of people waiting for holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries to celebrate love, because shouldn't it be celebrated all year? (Now I see my own logical fallacy: ex. I love Christmas, but we sure as heck don't treat any other day of the year like Christmas.)

However, my attitude about it has completely changed. And for the better, I'm sure. No, I'm not dating anyone. No, I'm not "almost dating" anyone. No, I don't see this changing any time in the near future. BUT I do see it happening some time in the future, and I think that that is something worth looking forward to.

On Facebook, I saw a lot of people posting statuses about hating Valentine's Day, referring to it as "Singles Awareness Day," and even someone who wore all black and then went to an Anti-Valentine's Day party. And that's okay; if it makes you happy to sneer at a holiday dedicated to love, so be it. Good for you. Do what makes you happy. Those just aren't the things that make me happy.

I would hate to think that I shouldn't be able to enjoy Valentine's Day until I am happily dating or married to someone. I would hate even more to think that I should be miserable on such a day because of my relationship status. Could I feel better about myself by being irritated at and speaking out against all the people who are, bless their hearts, so happily situated? I mean, I would hate to burst any bubbles here, but that just doesn't work. There's no happiness in trying to devalue someone else's happiness.

Instead, I'd like to make a suggestion, and that is this: Valentine's Day isn't necessarily about celebrating relationships, it's about celebrating love. It's about celebrating the fact that I love my family, that I love my roommates, that I love Girl Scout Samoas cookies (and Samoas ice cream!); that I love books, and sunshine, and flip flops, and green grass, and friendship, and good food, and swimming pools, and chick-flicks. It's about celebrating the fact that love is possible. Maybe I'm not dating somebody right now, but is that any reason to ignore everything else that I love, and not be excited for when love does come along? I know I'm risking sounding like the BYU stereotypical marriage-rabid coed, but I'm pretty sure I'm right here. (And I'm not marriage-rabid, thank you very much.)

Why not listen to love songs? Why not have happy little hearts everywhere? Why not be happy about life and love and everything that is awesome? Because I'm bitter about not being in a relationship? I'm sorry, but how petty and shortsighted is that!

It's like being miserable at your birthday party because you're not allowed to eat your cake yet. Well sorry, people. It's my party, and I will be freaking happy if I want to. :)

Rejection

(Just so you know, I've been on a blogging frenzy today, so, if you so desire, browse about and see some of the new posts, including "Craigslist" and "Facebook Fads." Those might be the only other new ones, but whatever.)

Some time ago, Katie had a film due in her film class. Natalie and I were fortunate enough to be actresses in this film and we had a GREAT time doing it, and I'm so excited to do the real version tomorrow! Anyways, as she showed this "rough draft" to her class a couple of weeks ago, the other students were asked to fill out comment cards. One of the cards said, "I asked one of those girls out twice and got rejected hardcore :("

Now, let's just be honest here: Natalie is the dating machine of the apartment. I've never heard of someone getting asked out on so many dates. It sometimes literally blows my mind (not because there's any reason for her not to get asked out, it's just the ratio between her dating and that of like every other girl on the planet). I, of course, haven't really had much opportunity to reject people this semester, and I feel like I've been very open to blind dates and pretty much whoever whenever.

The point is, it obviously was not me.

So Katie shoots me a text, asking if I or Natalie knew this guy, I didn't recognize the name, and Natalie didn't either, but she knew that she had turned down a guy in her tap class a couple of times and she couldn't remember his name. Sad, but sometimes this happens.

Last night, at our cocoa party, Rachel brought over a gift from Katie--the stack of comment cards. They were all really nice, saying we were good actors and stuff, and complimenting Katie's choice of shots and her great idea and the funny scene where Natalie shoves me back into "my" room. We finally get to the infamous rejection card, and we decide to look the guy up on Facebook. Natalie looks at him and says, "That's not the guy in my tap class." So I start looking at him ...

... And he's looking pretty familiar.

But I'm thinking to myself, This isn't possible. This guy can't have asked me out twice. It's just impossible. I certainly haven't met him this year, and I know he wasn't in my ward, but I didn't know anyone in any of my classes LAST year that would have asked me out ... So how can this be?

Only that's where we hit the reason for the rejection, and the reason I barely even recognize him: I didn't know him. And he still asked me out. Twice. We were in a freshman film seminar my first semester, and he was an R.M., and I was not yet or just barely 19, and I was totally freaked out that he was asking me out.

In hindsight, this was silly and kind of rude of me, but that's how I felt at that time. Added to the fact that I HATED going to International Cinema for that class (we were expected to see two of the three films each week), I just wasn't happy about any of his offer. I preferred to stream the movies while I was alone in my room and laying on my bed or the floor. Of course, that semester was like the worst 4 months of my life, and at the end of it, I was sitting in a lodge halfway up a mountain in Winter Park, Colorado, sucking down a tall mug of cocoa and crying my eyes out, telling my mom that I didn't want to come back to college. I was emotionally unstable because my entire life was feeling unstable at that point, but who hasn't gone through a period of emotional instability before?

Anyways, long-story-short, I now feel super bad. I mean, I can't believe the guy even remembers that he asked me out in the first place, but the fact that he wrote that down on the comment card with a frowny face makes me feel like a terrible person. Whatever. Nothing I can do about it now, I suppose.

While we're in the subject of rejection ... I've had a funny thought today. I mean, we all know that the person who cares the least in a relationship has the most control over it. This is a truth that we've all accepted it, and many of us have striven to care less so that we can maintain control over the relationship. (Hopefully I'm not the only one who does this ... Awkward.) But have you ever let someone think that they were rejecting you because you just don't even care enough to want them to know that it's you rejecting them, and not the other way around?

I was thinking about this, about certain events in my past (how recent or not recent is irrelevant). But I think maybe sometimes you just care so little that you don't even care to bother rejecting someone. You just let them do the work and let them think that they've turned you down, when really it's just your indifference that's making them want to reject you in the first place. There's a part of me thinks, You can be angry about this. This is an absolutely valid reason to be totally pissed off. You may have been somewhat at fault, but he's definitely in the wrong here. I try to be angry. I try to care.

But 99.999% of me just doesn't.

Am I emotionally disturbed? Do I have a dysfunctional heart? (Hola, Cheesy Kayla!) Was the timing off? (Let me answer that one: YES. Big, fat, heinous YESness.) What's my deal? Am I going to be like this forever? (Heck, I hope not.)

I guess my point is this: Dating, love, whatever all this junk is, is complicated, and no matter how annoying it is, or how differently each of us handles it and ourselves... Well, people say it's worth it. Too many, in fact, for it to be disregarded. Sometimes, majority shouldn't rule, but maybe sometimes it should. And rejection, no matter how much it sucks, is a part of life. Sometimes you're the rejecter, sometimes you're the rejectee, and sometimes you're some kind of mixture of both. It's just life.

Ultimately, I'd like to sum up my thoughts by quoting myself, "Whate'er."

How to Know If You Like Someone, part 1

So I've come to the conclusion that there are a few things in life that are unnecessarily difficult, one of them being trying to figure out if you really do like someone, especially in the middle college years of life, when it's actually important to evaluate your interest. There are a lot of things that can go wrong in the dating game. Some people just have raging hormones. Some people are desperately seeking eternal companionship. Some people are creepy. Some people are ... unfortunate looking. Some people are too shy for their own good. Some people are too outgoing and crazy for their own good. Some people are insatiable and skip from person to person. Some people are just plain lonely. Some people just can't make decisions.

It is the people who can't make decisions that I am most worried about. Mostly because I consider myself to be (at least to some extent) one of them. It can be so difficult, not knowing if you even want to go on that next date, not knowing if you're really interested in the person or just doing it for one of the reasons above, and worrying if you like someone enough to put in the effort required to make things happen. I've suffered all of these things, and more. And so it is with these poor folks (and myself, selfishly enough) in mind that I have devised a few fool-proof indicators of interest.

1. The Facebook Stalking Test, a.k.a. How Shallow Are You? just kidding ... not.

Let's face it: Facebook Stalking (hereafter known as "FaceStalking") has become a definite part of the dating experience. It has, in some ways, revolutionized the dating game--it has delivered sight to many blind daters, and lets you get a feel of people before you can even experience them for yourself. Whether this is good or bad is pretty irrelevant at this point. The fact is that there's a lot you can tell about yourself from looking at the Subject's photos.

Most people have a TON of photos, which makes things better and worse at the same time. On the one hand, you get to see a lot about what the Subject likes to do, what kind of people they hang out with, whether or not they're pimp-daddies (or pimp-mamas ... but that's just uncomfortable).

On the other hand, there's a lot of potential for awkward photos to show up. You know exactly the ones I'm talking about. The ones where the Subject made a weird face or wasn't ready for the camera. The ones where the Subject wore a weird outfit as a joke but you don't really understand the context, and so you're just uncomfortable. The ones where some cruel former classmate found a box of photographs from high school and decided to scan them all in and tag every person. We've all seen them. What's worse, we've all got them. And why? Because if you untag yourself in every awkward photo, people know you're self-conscious or vain or something. Anyways, the point is: What is your reaction to awkward photos of the Subject?

If awkward photos make you uncomfortable and slightly repulsed, pack your suitcase and move on. If there's anything about their appearance in the photos (and yes, that's in the plural because generally it's better to observe more than one awkward photo for scientific accuracy) that turns that little unattractiveness screw in your stomach and makes you regret (even a little bit) that you ever were attracted to the wretch on the screen, really--you don't truly like the person, and it's okay to let go.

HOWEVER, if you find the awkward photos endearing, adorable, funny, cute, precious, silly, and maybe even a little bit strangely attractive ... there's a very good chance that you actually do like this person! Congratulations! Now, that's not to say that they won't do something repugnant in the future. Things could fall apart at any moment. They could do something utterly unattractive and you could land on your tush, crush-less without the slightest prior indication. It happens. But for now, raise your glass: This could be love!

2. The Kiss Q, or, How Hormonally-Charged Is This Relationship?

Some time ago, I was riding in the car up to Sandy with my aunt. I was chronicling my recent dating history to her, and telling her about this guy I'd gone on a number of dates with. He was cool, nice, gentlemanly, talented, smart, and a whole host of other great things ... but there was a problem. I couldn't tell whether or not I actually wanted to keep going out with him. Although there was a definite indication that the answer was 'no' (because I thought that, more or less, anything other than 'yes' was 'no', in the words of the darling John Mayer), I still couldn't be sure because there just wasn't any concrete evidence that I didn't, or really any reason why I shouldn't have liked him and wanted to continue dating him. So my aunt asked me a simple question: "Do you want him to kiss your face?" (And, just to clarify, by "face" she meant lips. She just talks like that.)

For me, the answer was, "No. HECK no, I do not want him to kiss my face. That does not appeal to me at all!" And lo, and behold, when we went our separate ways, I was anything but disappointed. In fact, I was happy, relieved, and glad to see him making progress to his eventual EC ... who certainly wasn't me.

So ask yourself, "Do I want [the Subject] to kiss my face?" If the answer is no, step away from the merch. If the answer is yes ... get on your pony and get some.

3. "Je pense, donc je l'aime"

I may be totally ripping off Descartes' statement "I think, therefore I am" right now, but I think this is a totally valid test. For those who do not speak the sophisticated tongue, the name of this indicator is, "I think, therefore I like him/her." This is pretty self-explanatory. When you like someone, it's kind of hard to think of anything else. That's just the way it is.

It's also related to number four ...

4. The Speech Test

No, no, you don't have to give a speech. But it stands to reason that you talk about what you think about. Is the Subject coming up in conversation a lot? Are you forcing yourself to pip out of conversations because you're afraid you're annoying people because you just can't stop saying the Subject's name and bringing them into the conversation? Odds are, if the answer is yes, you've got a case of the likeys.

Odds are also that your roomies and/or close friends are gonna pick up on it too because this is like having a flashing red heart-shaped love light above your head. (Note: Tends to happen a lot when you're trying to pretend like you don't like someone. They WILL come up in conversation, and you WILL have to ask a question about it because, unfortunately, you care about what they're doing too much to let it slip by unnoticed.)

***

And now, because Natalie wants to go to bed, I'm going to let her. Poor thing looks tired and she has to get up early. Aw. What a cutie. She's like cuddling herself right now. But not in an awkward way ... Hah. GOODNIGHT :)

On Love and Interest

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