Like a soupcan

Labeled. I'm going to (not really try to) just put a label on 'me.' Don't make myself think and inevitably overanalyze who I am and where I fit in to this mad society picture of American life. Just simply classify 'me' and be done with it.

Sometimes, I don't want to be different - unique - special - interesting - creative - bizarre - one-of-a-kind.

I like shopping at the Gap. I have no qualms about ordering cookie dough, easily the most popular ice cream flavor out there. I listen to Top 40 radio often. I classify myself as a political moderate. My grades are average. I really enjoy Target.

I'm not preppy because polos are ill-fitting and I'm not a hipster because I'm terrible at putting on eyeliner and even worse at not smudging it throughout the day. I'm not nerdy because I have lax study tendencies and I'm not a jock because I'm not athletically-inclined.

One could argue that these labels are absurd, outdated Hollywood creations that cannot apply to real life. I think they ALL apply and everyone has a little bit of each of them within.

Just like the Kinsey scale or the Learning Styles Inventory, there's a lot of room from gray space in today's world.

I like my paisley bedspread but my favorite jeans are acid washed skinny ones from Urban Outfitters. I'm definitely a fan of school, so that makes me a little (lot) bit nerdy. One day, I'll exercise and then I'll fit the jock piece in.

Ultimately, I wind up in the middle. Maybe my defining, separating flavor is my blogvoice - tiny and new in this vast blogosphere. Maybe my defining value is religion or optimism. Or snarky, judgmental comments.

Most likely, what makes mainstream me not so mainstream is my arrived confidence in just liking what I like and doing what I do because I'm happy. And I hope that makes you happy too.

Sometimes, the middle of the gray area means lacking polarization. I think polarization is killing our country's government really quickly. Some political theorists I skimmed freshman year disagree completly and say polarization fuels American democracy. I think it stagnates American progress. And I'm just as much of a political theorist as anyone else. Maybe I'm ahead of the average American in terms of political theorizing (doubtful).

Or maybe I am the average American, like the ones that Jay Leno goes out of his way to embarrass on the streets of New York. Unless Secret Life of the American Teenager is true - then I've just failed epically at normalcy by evading drug addictions and teen pregnancy.

See how quickly a Freudian self-analysis became a framework for studying America. Clearly, this means I am a wholesome patriot crusading for democratic progress. That's glam.

So where does this all tie together? It doesn't. We don't always have to be so neat and pretty and classified - though I really do like wearing a bow in my hair.

PS. Check out NoLabels if you like politics, progress, startups, important people, and not labeling things.

Measuring Up

According to some very academic studies that I heard of at some point, most of us think we are better or would be better than most other people. At most everything. Like driving, exercising, working, ethics, community involvement, friendship.

I know I'm slightly shorter than the average person, so I can't say that I'm better than most at being tall.

I know my SAT scores are better than the average person because College Board said so.

However, my doctor and the College Board seem to be the only cases where I am provided with hard statistics on how I stack up percentile-wise in my physical height or alleged mental capacity.

I don't really like this whole idea though of measuring against the populus. I don't want to be better than everyone else because people don't like bragging and there would be no such thing as friendly competition - I would always win. What really matters though is readjusting our framework to focus on being better versions of ourselves. Competing who we are with who we'd like to be. And not who we'd like to be as in I'd like to be Megan Fox but who we'd like to be as in I'd like to be a better me.

Learning to compare and contrast is a valuable skill that I learned in a 4th grade venn diagram. We shouldn't be venndiagraming ourselves against one another. It's dumb. Everyone is 96% the same as a monkey, DNA-wise, so we must be an awful lot closer than that to one another. We're fighting over fragments of DNA. Can I honestly say my nucleotides are sexier, smarter, faster, stronger than someone elses? Maybe if I had a PhD in genetic translation, but I don't.

Especially in a society so focused on individualizing everyone, it's amazing how we try to measure up to one another constantly.

Megan Fox has 8 or 9 tattoos. I'm so far behind. Good thing I'm not trying to catch up, only to my expectations for myself. They're pretty damn high, but they don't involve needle and ink.

It's time to measure up to no one other than myself.

The Second Post

They say second is the best. Well, I peaked fast.
This post better not be the creme de la creme of all future postings. But, I found today's happenings amusing and you might also.

Today, I learned a valuable life lesson: you never, ever really have to grow up.

Anecdote: My boss's boss's boss's boss stole my shoes.
Elaboration: I work at a 500 person organization where everyone works incredibly hard to raise a ton of money to help millions of people. That's awesome. What's even more awesome is the way everyone keeps their spirits up. Lots of nice people bring in baked goods and important people go around thanking their staff for all their hard work. Other people lighten the workday with childish pranks. Like a senior VP steals an intern's (my) shoes.

I have run into shoe problems before. I'd much rather be barefoot all the time. In fact, I have been known to be barefoot at the wrong times. My freshman year of college, a professor took off nearly a full letter grade for my lack of professional decorum: I had been slipping off my shoes under the table and maybe once or twice, walked over to the printer barefoot. It was a three hour class and, as I said, I like being barefoot. No one should be forced to sit still for that long, much less wear shoes for that long. Anyway, being a good talker and generally, a well-behaved and cooperative student, I was able to reclaim some of the lost grade. And, I learned a valuable lesson - wear your shoes in a professional setting.

Apparently, I did not learn the lesson very well.

Today, I was chatting with some interns after returning from a cupcake break for which I had worn my flippyfloppies and I looked down and noticed my nice work heels were gone. Vanished.

I blamed another intern. Only people under legal drinking age would do these kinds of childish pranks, right? Oh-so-wrong. It was a fortysomething, world-renowned executive who had decided to play a trick on me. Since all executives in big buildings have spies, he somehow knew I was freaking out about the shoes and called my deskphone with 60 seconds. I marched down to his office in another intern's shoes, two sizes too big and rather clownish on my feet, and we had an ebullient smackdown regarding the missing shoes. He fooled me, expected me to break the dress code with flipflops in his office, and I shocked him with my co-intern's way-too-big flats. Boom. (I think he still won this round. And interns probably should not retaliate. Maybe.)

Anyway, it made the workday unparalleledly extroardinary, filled with laughter and commotion.

It doesn't matter if you're an intern who spends the day snacking, getting manicures, watching bachelorette recaps, and occasionally making phone calls for 'work purposes' or you're the champion leader of fundraising at a multimillion dollar charitable organization. Occasionally, the littlest childish things make the best moments.

And that's what propels you to get back to work even harder than before, with the energy that can only come from such youth-driven playful spirit. Why quarantine such childishness to the home when it can really bring power to the Manhattan cubicle? Maybe someone figured this out before me, which would explain the cupcake decorating party yesterday. Finger-painting next week?

Or, we could all just blow off the summer steam with a brand-new blog.

I'm going to blog every day. And I'm going to try and keep some promises. But probably not the every-day-blogging thing. I have a billion things that cross my mind everyday though so it's not that I don't have enough to say. It's more that I'm easily distracted and often busy. If you do have something you want me to write about, tell me. And then I'll do it. I like feeling like this has a purpose, this whole blogosphere thing. That it's not just about me writing stuff because I think it's sorta fun. If you're going to read me, it's going to motivate me. And if you're going to get involved (ie. comment, compliment, give ideas, ask questions), I'd just be thrilled.

But remember, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. At least not to me.

Keep it light and happy - you should really only read this if you are procrastinating and that should be fun, not angry or negative.

Today I wondered, "How many windows are in Manhattan?"

Tomorrow I'll wonder something else. And if I keep my first promise, I'll let you know what that is.