It’s been a long time since I sang for y’all. Yesterday I rewrote the lyrics to a hit song, adapting it for bloggers and had my son Jude record me singing it. You know, just for fun. JUST IN CASE YOU’D FORGOTTEN I’M A CERTIFIED GOOFBALL. Also, I like embarrassing my older kids who are just MORTIFIED that Mom is so weird. Mwah-ha-ha. So, without further ado, I present for your viewing pleasure: “Blogger Royals.”
I’m guilty of a few of these. Clearly. But that didn’t stop me from laughing hysterically. Consider this your daily dose of preventative medicine.
When I started jumping rope a year ago, I couldn’t do it for more than 5 seconds before wetting myself. You Mamas know EXACTLY what I’m talking about, amen? Pushing out babies=very weak pelvic floor muscles. I mean, for like a few years I couldn’t even sneeze without needing to cross my legs first. TMI? Yeah. YOU TRY BEARING FIVE CHILDREN.
Point is, jump rope is waaaaay better than Kegels.
It took me awhile to get my form right. At first I was jumping too high, too hard and screwing up my rhythm. The key is small, soft movements. Here’s an excellent, easy-to-follow video on how to jump rope with proper form.
The best part about jump rope is that you can do it anywhere! It’s the perfect exercise for winter because you can do it indoors. I’m always surprised at how exhausted I am after just 15 minutes.
I’ve started adding a few little tricks to keep it fun. I am VERY uncoordinated and flail-y. But it’s so much fun I keep trying. Here I am trying to do a succession of tricks and pretty much FLAILING miserably. It’s still a good workout—even if you FLAIL!
So, this was my day on Friday:
This is why you should follow me on The Twitter. Because I will answer personal questions. Also, I tweet about sex. Verily, verily I say unto thee, if you don’t follow me on The Twitter, YOU MIGHT GET LEFT BEHIND AT THE RAPTURE. Or miss my sex tweets. Same diff, amen?
Moving on to more EDIFYING conversation, here are some reads I enjoyed this week!
Tragically hip: privilege & the emerging church: “Having privilege doesn’t mean that one’s life is easy or that you’ve never experienced disadvantage or pain. It is not a personal indictment but an acknowledgement that social and institutional benefits enjoyed by some are denied to others.” (Man oh man, sometimes I am SO BLIND to my own privilege!)
Why children should not be on Instagram: ”We need to monitor what our children are doing online. Getting embroiled in this little drama between tween-girl fan sites has opened my eyes. I’ve seen accounts posting pictures of cutitng, I’ve seen pro-anorexia photos, and I’ve seen tons of girls running multiple accounts and sharing intimate details online. Most of them were using location services, even checking in at home and at school. Almost all of them had personal accounts that were not private.” (I seriously need to monitor my 13 year old’s Instagram account!)
Grace for the privileged, too? It can be frustrating when I’m engaged in dialog with fellow feminists, eager to learn more and eager to bring my own experiences to the table, only to be raked over the coals after saying something “wrong” without even realizing it. Often it’s because I am unfamiliar with the lingo and language, so I leave feeling kinda stupid and shamed. (I’ve felt this way so many times! I really want to learn but I often say the wrong thing–or I just unwittingly expose my blindspots and biases. Being humble has been really important for me. And I’m always grateful for the people who take the time to point me towards books, blogs or resources to help me gain a better awareness and understanding.)
Lastly, I’ve been taking lots of hot baths. This is what I’ve learned:
It’s been FREEZING cold here in Southern California. And by freezing I mean it’s been 55 degrees. I’ve been going around saying things like: “Can you believe I have to put a JACKET before I go outside??? This is INSANE!” And also: “I’m DYING of cold! WHEN WILL THIS STOPPPPP?”
I am such a wimp that when I visited my sister in Chicago a couple winters ago, I got all personally offended at the weather. I was all: How the HELL do people SURVIVE out here? This climate is HOSTILE to human LIFE!
I totally freaked out in the Chicago airport when it was full-on snowing and planes were still taking off. And no, I was NOT reassured when someone told me not to worry because they “de-ice the plane.” I was like: WHAT?! THE PLANE HAS ICE ON IT?????
Me and weather don’t get along. This is why, no matter how high taxes soar in Southern California and no matter how damn liberal we get, I will NOT leave. I likes my Mediterranean climate. I am Greek. We don’t do cold.
That said, I am a complete wimp.
At least, I’m not alone.
This past week, ALL of Los Angeles was freaking out about the “cold” weather. It got so ridiculous that Jimmy Kimmel did a whole segment on it. I got a good laugh out of this:
So, what’s the weather like where YOU are today?
I think we need some levity up in here.
What say ye to a little genre-bending-mashup?
I say hit it.
If Ke$ha wrote church hymns:
“Wake up in the mornin’ feelin’ like D. Moody.”
If Josh Harris wrote cookbooks:
I Kissed Gluten Goodbye
If Niki Minaj rapped “Les Miserables:”
“Don’t you fret Monsieur Marius, I don’t hear any super bass.”
If Mark Driscoll wrote feminist theory:
Surreal Marriage: the truth about sexual fetish and codependency
If Rihanna sang kids’ Bible songs:
“Rise and shine bright like a diamond.”
If Joel Osteen was on Dancing With the Stars:
Your Best Tango Now
If Darth Vader sang the national anthem:
Oh, say can you see by the dark side’s early light?
If Fox News had a social conscience:
The O’rganic Factor
If Oprah ran Rick Warren’s church:
The Purpose Driven Aha Moment
If Tim Challies gave investment advice:
Total depravity of stock market sends mutual funds to Hell
If Ann Voskamp wrote crafting books:
One Thousand Gift Bags
If the Pope wrote EE’s blog:
I Use My Infallible Words
Now, it’s your turn! Hit it, comment box.
Old-school misogyny is alive and well. Except now it’s dressed in hip clothing. It probably blogs. It probably gets its ideas from books rife with harmful gender stereotypes. And it probably uses edgy language like “giving our men their balls back…one day at a time.” OK, see. Let’s stop right there. I have questions.
- If you’re gonna give the balls back, why do it one day at a time?
- Why not give BOTH balls back on the SAME day?
I also need an explanation for this statement: ”The Love & Respect book had a lot of sexist stereotypes about women but hey! Let’s talk about how awesome this book is!”
Well, that’s a paraphrase. Here’s the real quote:
I’m not going to promote or bash this book… it had some good points that have been eye opening and some HUGE stereotypes that made me crazy mad.
You know what makes me crazy SAD? I get so discouraged when, instead of refuting those HUGE, harmful stereotypes, Christian women promote those ideas by asserting that We Women–and I quote–”have essentially castrated our men.”
Well, thank goodness we haven’t literally castrated our men, amen? Because, ew. Also, messy.
My real problem, here, is that harmful books like these are still popular in Christian circles. What REALLY breaks my heart is that women who are sincerely trying to improve their marriages fall prey to harmful teaching mainly because the most popular Christian books on marriage are harmful!
Heck, this book has spawned Love & Respect-themed retreat$! There are workbook$!
Is this book really about helping people?
Because here’s the thing: any Christian book that claims to have discovered “THE SINGLE GREATEST SECRET to a successful marriage” is highly suspect. It makes all my fundamentalist triggers go on high alert. It’s formulaic! If you follow steps 1-2-3, you, too, can have a Successful Marriage!
I mean, dude. How did couples ever manage to stay married before this book was published? THEY DIDN’T KNOW THE SINGLE GREATEST SECRET!
Just in case you’re wondering, the Single Greatest Secret for Marriage Success is that women need unconditional love and men desperately need unconditional respect. Yes, men desperately neeeeeeeed respect. It’s in the title. Love & Respect: the love she most desires, the respect he desperately needs.
I don’t know about you, but a man who desperately needs anything from me is also highly suspect. I don’t like neediness. Neither does my therapist. She has this fancy word for it: co-dependent.
Also, what is unconditional respect? To me, that sounds like a huge loophole for tolerating abuse. Like, hey, woman. NO MATTER HOW BAD I TREAT YOU, YOU MUST RESPECT ME!
Why is respect gender exclusive, anyway? Women need respect, too, yes? I mean, are we calling Aretha Franklin a liar??
R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Find out what it means to me!
Ahem. I digress.
Point: I have a hard time believing there’s any Biblical support for “unconditional respect.” I COULD be wrong. Feel free to correct, exhort and rebuke me in the comment section. I will listen. Or delete you. Depends on whether you desperately neeeeed me to respect you. Mwah-ha-ha.
Multiple reviewers have noted that the book is ‘incredibly sexist“. So, why are Christians still propagating this stuff?
I just don’t get it.
Oh, wait. I do.
It’s all Eve’s fault!
- Flat Diet Coke.
- Anne Geddes pictures. I’m damn tired of newborns in flower pots. In peapods. Sticking out of calla lilies.
- Tutus the size of hot air balloons. The whole tutu thing has gotten way out of control.
- Stupid romantic comedies. Hint: DO NOT RENT “The 5 Year Engagement.” It was the worst, most depressing, lame-ass, postmodern-disgusting ‘love story’ EVER.
- Ladies Who Lunch. “Dressing on the side. Can I substitute that? This isn’t tap water, is it? We’ll be splitting this five ways.”
- Democratic National Convention.
- Cayenne pepper.
- A blister on my toe.
- Deodorant that doesn’t de-odor.
- People who honk their horns for no discernible reason.
- That one time I tripped.
- A bruise on my hip.
- Shin splints.
- First day of school. Ahhh, quiet.
- Incredible workouts.
- Cherry dresses for the twins.
- Double therapy sessions.
- Phone conversation with good friend (hi, Kat!).
- Lunch with good friend (hi, Gina!).
- T.S. Eliot.
- Outlining chapter 10.
- First pumpkin latte of the season.
- Pink nail polish.
- “Quando, Quando, Quando” by Michael Buble.
- Season 2 of “Downton Abbey.”
- Macaroni & Cheese.
- Snakeskin belt + plum top (hello, Autumn!).
I’m mitigating the disaster of my mid-faith crisis with injections of laughter . The following two videos seriously rescued my weekend. I’m so happy to live in a time where stuff like this is happening….
I started catching glimpses of it while waitressing. I tried to ignore it. Then it would happen again. And I would be all: “That was a fluke.” But then I was watching for it and intentionally trying NOT to do it. That’s when I realized: “Wait, if I’m trying NOT to do something I do without trying, I might have a problem.”
So, I stopped trying NOT to do it and instead just watched myself. Like, I stood outside my body and watched how I behaved. I didn’t judge myself. I just watched.
And there it was. Again and again.
I went home one day and burst into tears because: OMG, I HAD NO IDEA I SPENT SO MUCH OF MY LIFE TRYING TO PLEASE MEN.
Yeah. There it is.
I am acutely and hyper-aware of men and their reactions toward me. I go out of my way to make sure they are happy, have everything they need and are totally satisfied. I try to meet their needs before they even ask. If I disappoint a man, I feel terrible. Yes, this makes me a good server—IF I did the same thing for women.
The thing is, I have to intentionally remind myself to make women happy. Generally speaking, serving women is more challenging. They have complicated orders (salads with multiple modifications: no dressing, no onions, extra dressing on the side). Women like to split the check five different ways with three different credit cards, cash and a gift card. In some ways, women are harder to please. So maybe that’s why it’s harder for me to try and make them happy?
I wish it were as simple an explanation as that.
I have a feeling it goes deeper. I have this nagging suspicion that my childhood conditioning hard-wired me to seek the approval of men.
In my world, men were Everything. They made all the big decisions and were never questioned. They could come and go as they pleased, they could sit down and relax without anyone questioning them. They could bluntly order people around and that was absolutely their God-given prerogative.
Women, on the other hand, had to ask permission for everything. We never did anything without first obtaining approval. I was so accustomed to getting approval before making ANY decision on my own that to this day, I still have to remind myself that I’m allowed to use the restroom without asking permission from my boss.
I’ve been outside fundamentalism for 10 years now and have relearned a whole new way of living. But working as a waitress has brought back all the Deferring-To-Men behavior. I’m honestly disgusted with myself.
It’s second nature for me to scan the needs of men and hurry to meet their needs. I fall all over myself trying to make them happy. And then when they reward me with a compliment or a good tip, I feel perfectly satisfied. Which I guess would be fine IF I did the same thing for women.
I had this moment a few weeks ago where I was like: am I an unintentional misogynist? Why else would I rush to fix a man’s order when his food isn’t prepared correctly but when a woman is unhappy with her food, I assume she’s just being picky?
This has been a huge wake-up call for me. Even though I call myself a feminist and a strong supporter of women, I am partially blind to my own misogynistic treatment of women.
Now that I’ve seen this about myself, I’m making an intentional effort to behave differently.
The truth is that I really want to be a good server–to everyone. I like helping people. I actually enjoy providing excellent service. Realigning my perspective to see the needs–not the gender–of each patron I’m serving has helped me render higher quality service.
Seeing every PERSON as equally worthy of my attention and favor is not only important, it’s a vital philosophical virtue: valuing our common humanity is superior to favoring one gender over the other.
Or as any good Greek restaurant will tell you: life, liberty and hummus for all!