Keep Life Weird
When I was a kid, life could very easily be weird, unexpected, and very interesting. At least compared to life as a young adult.
I’d do spontaneous things, I’d embrace creativity, I’d dance or sing just because. When young, actions that are outside the norm are easily “forgivable” or “accepted”.
As we get older, there are more “rules” to follow, more “norms” to adhere to, more consequences to our actions.
Yet I still love to let go a bit here and there. Sometimes it’s in bigger ways that are readily apparent (quitting a stable job and moving to another city without another job during a recession comes to mind). Sometimes it’s in smaller ways that are not observable (for example, I’ll randomly - not always - pay for a car behind me when I go through a toll).
This post on Tiny Buddha included 25 ways to make any day more interesting and included a few gems. My three favorites:
1. Start the day with a blank piece of paper and the question, “What if today were my last?” Write down what you’d do differently and then try to do at least 5 of those things.
9. Make it a goal to talk to five people you don’t know. And I mean real conversations. Ask them what they do on the weekends, what their favorite memory is, and whether or not they like spam. (OK, the last one is less interesting—but I think it says a lot about you if you eat unidentifiable lunch meat.)
10. Commit to complementing everyone you encounter on something. Sometimes it will be easy; sometimes it will be challenging. Every time it will brighten someone’s day and fill you with joy.
Do you have any tricks to make life interesting, weird, creative?
Terms of Dating (or is it “Going out”?)
My friend recently wrote two scripts for a television show, just for fun. They are both hilarious, but one part stuck out…
KATE: Things not go well with the boyfriend?
ALLISON: He’s not my boyfriend, Chloe called him that too.
KATE: What would you call him then?
ALLISON: We’re just going out. We’re not even dating.
KATE: What’s the difference?
ALLISON: Going out means we’re just hanging out, could be friends. Dating implies benefits but is non-exclusive. A relationship is exclusive dating.
I read this, and cracked up. Not because it’s particularly funny, but because it’s so true: When it comes to dating, everyone speaks a different language. I have definitely tried to explain to my parents after college how I could be dating a girl but not going out with her. I can’t tell you how many variations of this conversation I’ve had.
For the record, I actually disagree with the quoted terminology — as you might have gleaned from the prior paragraph. And that’s exactly the point. No one can ever agree on what words mean what. Boyfriend and girlfriend? Great, everyone understands. You’re just dating? Half your friends will think one thing, your parents will think another, and your grandparents will probably think you’re betrothed.
For some reason, the stages before a true exclusive relationship are confusing as hell to name. Probably has something to do with the fact that the actual stages themselves can be confusing as hell, but I digress.
Not too long ago, a friend and I realized something: there are clearly stages. Everyone agrees on that. It’s the terms that cause the confusion. So let’s get rid of the terms!
Here we go: three stages, but no confusing terms like “dating”, “friends with benefits” “going out”, “seeing each other”, “hooking up”, etc:
Stage 1: You have no commitments and are doing whatever you want with whoever you want.
Stage 2: You have committed to one person, but haven’t talked to that person about it.
Stage 3: You and one person are committed to each other, and have talked about it.
See? Easy!
Here’s the kicker. Let’s pretend Allison is at Stage 1, and has gone to the movies with Steve, had dinner with Danny, and slept with Mike. If Mike, Steve and Danny are all at Stage 1 as well, there’s no problem.
But let’s say Danny is at Stage 2 and thinks “I’m going to go for it with Allison”, and Allison is still at Stage 1, then there’s a problem. Allison is still going to have her fun, and it’s going to mean more to Danny, who will likely eventually have his heart broken.
I would also argue that it’s best to progress up the Stages sequentially. It’s healthier and allows both people to make up their minds, rather than jumping to Stage 3 for the sake of having commitment.
This is hugely generalized, but what do you think?
The Withdrawl of a Facebook Addict
Life without Twitter, Facebook, newsmedia and excessive web browsing has changed the way I spend time, both personally and at work. It’s been incredibly revealing, sometimes frustrating, and, overall, unexpectedly calming.
5 days into my media fast (and counting)…
Going cold turkey this past week, I realized I actually qualified as addicted to Facebook. Whenever I was waiting for anything, I would want to check Facebook. Or check Twitter. Or read newsmedia. Ya know, to keep up with (or stay ahead of) my friends and the world. This desire to check would happen at my computer and in the real world — thanks to iPhone.
In some perverse desire to be “the best” (I honestly can’t quantify this), I had developed an urge to always see what was going on. Always stay connected. What did that really add to my life? Nothing much. The more interesting question is: What has subtracting that urge added to my life?
Well…
I don’t feel any absurd “responsibility” to check and update Facebook or Twitter. You probably know what I mean. “Oh, I haven’t posted anything today” or “Man, I should really check so-and-so’s wall” or “I’ll just check the newsfeed really quickly” This alone is worth the price of admission.
My head is clearer and feel like I’ve slowed down my life. I really think that being inundated with what hundreds of people are doing/thinking/expressing throughout any given day taxed my brain, and made me feel like I needed to go 100mph to keep up.
I read more. Since Tuesday, I have finished The Four Hour Workweek, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass, and am halfway through The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Plus, I’m lazily enjoying my reread of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower Series. Before Tuesday, I think I finished about 1 book per two weeks. If that.
I’m more productive when I single-task. Not having Twitter, Facebook and Gchat open while I’m trying to research a potential new client actually causes me to focus on just researching that new client. Which I get done faster and do a better job. Shocker.
I have more free time. One could probably deduce that from the above, but I’m not spending any idle time online. In so many ways, it feels like I’m on vacation. You know, when no one can contact you but those who you want (or those who really want) to reach out? Yeah, it’s that feeling.
For the first time in years, I actually just listened to music. It used to be a favorite past-time of mine; to sit and do nothing but listen to music (in my room, not on the go). I had forgotten this until yesterday, when instead of feeling compelled to browse and connect online, I lay on my bed and listened to my iTunes library. It was an amazing and relaxing moment.
I have the best conversation starter I have ever had. Without checking any news, I can open conversations with “Anything interesting going on in the world?” As an added bonus, I actually have things to talk about with close friends whom I would usually stalk on Facebook. “I haven’t been checking Facebook, how’s life?”
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Bonus, because people have been asking: how has this Facebook Addict gone Cold Turkey?
1) Download Leechblock for Firefox. This extension prevents access to any site you designate for whatever time you specify — in my case 24/7 — and adds a password for moments of weakness.
2) Disable all notifications from Twitter/Facebook through their respective Account Preferences pages. I am no longer notified about anything in Gmail.
3) If you have a smartphone (iPhone, Crackberry, Palm Pre, Android) delete the Facebook and Twitter applications. It’s tough, but they are always re-downloadable.
My Room
I was home over Thanksgiving, as many people were. Yet, I’m at this unique stage of my life where I still have a room at my parents’ house. I have a room there, but, except a few scattered summers, it hasn’t been my room in seven years.
I love my bedroom, and take great care to make it my own. It’s the one place, no matter what house or apartment I am living in, that is unequivocally mine. I had three rooms in DC. Two I took great care to make my own, and one I did not. My room in Boston is merely a slight variation on the latest in DC, which made moving up here rather painless.
I found that it helps me, in life, to have a place to go back to, that is mine. A space that has grown with me in my adult life, changing a bit each year. I find my room calming and centering. A wonderful place to return to at the end of a day. When I didn’t truly take the time to create that in DC, I felt that I was missing something.
To go back to my parents house and sleep in what was once my room made me reflect on how transitory life is. How rooms are just structures that house belongings and experiences for a short period of time. Yes, that’s existential, but it also made me greatly enjoy the rooms I’ve had and the experiences that have surrounded them. Which seemed to be an appropriate reflection over Thanksgiving weekend.
