Summer evokes images of sprinklers, beaches, flip-flops, ice cream, cold beer, and alfresco dining. I love these things, but sometimes, even on a beautiful Saturday or Sunday, I don't feel like doing anything but watching TV. Such was the case recently. Someone who will not be named said I was wasting the day. This person opted to attend a beer festival. I got offended (big surprise). I was dwelling in the depths of a hangover from the night before. On days like those, the last thing I want to do is throwback some bubbly or crack open a beer. Other days, I can warrior my way through the initial, bitter sips. Therefore, the two questions I'm asking myself are: Does drinking have to be involved in most or all of your summer activities? And what does it mean to waste a day in the summer?
Drinking on nice summer days, when the sun shines long into the evening, is not the only fun activity available to people, at least not in my neck of the woods, Seattle. Oh, Seattle—a wonderful, water- and mountain-filled part of the great Pacific Northwest. Hundreds of activities, from hiking through rainforests and simple beach trails to attending Sounders games and tulip festivals, await you in this region. A little something for everyone. Because of the variety of things to enjoy here, choosing not to drink should hardly turn into a problem. (However, one of the best moments on any given July or August day happens when you pour cold beer, maybe Abita Amber, into a frosty mug. You pick up the glass, the handle cool and wet in your hand, bring the mug to your lips and let the juice of gods slide over your tongue and down your throat. The cold makes its way down to your belly, and you let out a resounding, "Ah." Back to the subject.)
And I think most people agree because a lot of summer activities for adults have a theme of alcohol running through them. House parties always offer drinks of all kinds. When I go to the beach, I generally bring a bottle of wine. If I don't, one of my friends does. Plenty of fellow beach goers follow suit. Festivals abound, Seattle hosts tons of these events every summer—Ballard's Seafood Festival, Italian Festival, Bumbershoot, Hemp Festival, Tattoo Festival, Seafair, and Folklife, just to name a few. Though drinkers are herded into beer gardens, fenced off or caged from the rest of the community, these spaces always gush with people wanting to take a load off and sip some beer. Additionally, there's no shortage of pubs and restaurants near any given festival in any given neighborhood. Usually, those same pubs and restaurants will extend their happy hours. Gods forgive them if they don't.
I say this: Drinking is not a necessity for fun on summer days. However, it's probably the most popular and by far the most accessible. (If I want to climb Mt. Rainier, I can't go to my fridge to do it, duh.) I do not want to say that alcohol is pushed on me by media and my immediate surroundings, but it totally is. Now, is drinking in the winter better than drinking in the summer? That's an issue for a different post. Start mulling it now, though.
But what if I don't want to drink or even leave my house? This brings me to my next answer re: What does it mean to waste a day in the summer? "Waste" in any form is such a subjective word. And for a moment after I decided not to attend the beer festival, I looked at the rest of my day as wasted. And then I thought some more.
As I sat in my front yard, sweating out my hangover and getting some badly needed vitamin D, occasionally playing with my dog and spraying him with the hose, I thought about what else I could do so as not to waste the day. Playing with my dog, lying on a blanket in my front yard, reading a fresh copy of Us Weekly, and listening to my iPod turned out to be my Saturday cup of tea. There's nothing else I could have done that would have satisfied me as much as watching my Corgi try to kill the hose stream or reading about Jennifer Aniston wrecking marriages even though she knows what it's like to be cuckolded. (Yes, I realize she's a woman and technically cannot be cuckolded, but deal with it. Sexual equality calls for us to use the term for both parties. I say to you, go and cuckold and be cuckolded, regardless what set of privates you have.) I needed not drink nor company to squeeze the last drop of fun out of my Saturday afternoon.
Why do people use the word "waste" when speaking about daytime activities or the lack thereof? Isn't our goal to relax on the weekend or whatever day(s) we might have off? Is it because of our parents? Is it because when we were little we had endless energy and the thought of not playing outside during a nice summer day sounded ludicrous to our sun-burned ears? Whatever the reason, we must stop. If someone wants to sit on the couch and look out the window every hour, let her. Don't act spiteful, but feel free to be disappointed.
Relax in your own way.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Bitter Roots
Often people use the word "bitter." "She doesn't like your skirt because she's bitter about her fat ass," or, "He's just bitter because he can't get laid." But what does it really mean when people say the word? Why do we use it so much? Or, oh no, is it just me? Is my use of the word reflective of my own bitterness? Here is my attempt at dissecting the word and getting to the root of why we, or I, have deployed it in conversation so often.
Merriam-Webster defines bitter as "being or inducing one of the four basic taste sensations that is peculiarly acrid, astringent, or disagreeable and suggestive of an infusion of hops," and also as "distasteful or distressing to the mind: galling." I use the word in the latter sense. Even before I began dropping the word in dialog, the feeling of bitterness resided in me. I believe the feeling began to develop in high school. My theory is that this is when the feeling takes residency with most others.
High school, for me, was veiled in laughter, sports, parties, extremely short skirts, knee socks, dances, and prom dresses. Under the veil existed a very different scenario, and a much more real one than all the superficial items I've listed. I felt insecurity. I had a genuine need to be liked and approved by others. Being popular, particularly at a small school in a small town, loomed in the back of my mind at all times. The overwhelming desire to be pretty but never feeling pretty enough plagued me for all four years of high school. I constantly compared my physical self to my other girl friends.' Intellect came second in importance to me. Grades came after that. The things I valued had nothing to do with who I was or am. In a very real sense, I was lost.
And so, while always measuring myself to other girls and constantly seeking approval from boys, I became bitter. Was I aware of this? Not until much later in life. But I'll get to that. I resented myself for never looking good enough, so I despised myself, and in turn I seriously disliked others who I felt met the physical standards of the day. For example, I have a big behind compared to the size of my body. I absolutely love my luscious booty now, but in high school, I truly believed I needed to lose weight. Never accepting myself played hand-in-hand with the bitter taste that perpetually plagued my mind's tongue.
I graduated high school not having a clue as to who I was. (Let me stop here briefly to clarify that I don't think any of these feelings or notions are uncommon in high school children.) However, by senior year, I had a faint sense that the world was much bigger than Mansfield, Massachusetts. I also had a hint that I was much bigger than the person I allowed myself to be. Loyola University New Orleans loomed in the distance like far-away storm clouds. I didn't know whether to be scared or to welcome the inevitable rain that my dried-up sense of self so desperately needed.
Loyola accepted me. I took off to New Orleans without a thought in my head. It was during my time in Louisiana that I began to look back and realize how much time I'd spent being and feeling bitter towards myself and others. In college, I quickly learned I could take one of two paths: I could pretend to be a person that I hoped others would like, or I could act natural and see where that road took me. I chose the latter, and by the time I graduated college, I was able to do a few things that I hadn't before.
I began to see other women as friends and strangers, not competitors for men and cute clothing. I achieved this only after I accepted myself intellectually and physically. I stopped seeking the approval of men. (In fact, one could say that for awhile I thought men were my enemy and only good for sex.) Getting good grades and loving the curriculum at hand became extremely important to me. Thus, my bitterness slowly subsided.
There are times now when I still feel bitter. For example, I was a bit bitter when I found out Blake Lively was dating Leonardo DiCaprio. But the difference now is that I can immediately recognize those feelings, sit with them for a few minutes, and then cast them away. Why am I bitter? I ask this question when the feeling arises. Blake Lively is younger than me, more attractive, and, in my opinion, wickedly talented. But would I want to date Leo? No, of course not. I love my partner, Daniel. And it's in that moment when I think about all the things I have in my life that I am able to toss the bitterness out the window.
Growing up, I wasn't thankful for all I had going for me. Now I look back and think, "Man, my body was wonderful in high school. Why did I ever think I needed to lose weight?" I was smart but never cared enough about my brain power to recognize this. College and my move to Seattle thereafter helped me achieve all of this. Learning to let go of bad thoughts that would get me nowhere but an angry place made me the person I am today.
In closing, bitterness is a feeling and a state of mind. It is the most useless of all emotions. To be bitter is to miss out on life. Overcoming bitterness requires an open mind, a recognition of jealousy, and a realization of all you have to be thankful for. There is nothing that someone else has that you cannot obtain yourself through work and a belief in yourself. But do not put blinders on. Be aware of your surroundings. Be happy for others even if it is through gritted teeth. If a negative thought surfaces in your mind, think about it. Think about its roots and why it is there at that particular moment in your life. Maybe bitterness means something is missing in your own life, perhaps it means you just need a nap or a snack. But what I know for sure is that bitterness is a weight, and the sooner you can identify it, the sooner you can discard it with legitimacy. Without bitterness in your world, there exists a special freedom to love yourself, the good people you've chosen to be in your life, and strangers you've yet to meet.
Merriam-Webster defines bitter as "being or inducing one of the four basic taste sensations that is peculiarly acrid, astringent, or disagreeable and suggestive of an infusion of hops," and also as "distasteful or distressing to the mind: galling." I use the word in the latter sense. Even before I began dropping the word in dialog, the feeling of bitterness resided in me. I believe the feeling began to develop in high school. My theory is that this is when the feeling takes residency with most others.
High school, for me, was veiled in laughter, sports, parties, extremely short skirts, knee socks, dances, and prom dresses. Under the veil existed a very different scenario, and a much more real one than all the superficial items I've listed. I felt insecurity. I had a genuine need to be liked and approved by others. Being popular, particularly at a small school in a small town, loomed in the back of my mind at all times. The overwhelming desire to be pretty but never feeling pretty enough plagued me for all four years of high school. I constantly compared my physical self to my other girl friends.' Intellect came second in importance to me. Grades came after that. The things I valued had nothing to do with who I was or am. In a very real sense, I was lost.
And so, while always measuring myself to other girls and constantly seeking approval from boys, I became bitter. Was I aware of this? Not until much later in life. But I'll get to that. I resented myself for never looking good enough, so I despised myself, and in turn I seriously disliked others who I felt met the physical standards of the day. For example, I have a big behind compared to the size of my body. I absolutely love my luscious booty now, but in high school, I truly believed I needed to lose weight. Never accepting myself played hand-in-hand with the bitter taste that perpetually plagued my mind's tongue.
I graduated high school not having a clue as to who I was. (Let me stop here briefly to clarify that I don't think any of these feelings or notions are uncommon in high school children.) However, by senior year, I had a faint sense that the world was much bigger than Mansfield, Massachusetts. I also had a hint that I was much bigger than the person I allowed myself to be. Loyola University New Orleans loomed in the distance like far-away storm clouds. I didn't know whether to be scared or to welcome the inevitable rain that my dried-up sense of self so desperately needed.
Loyola accepted me. I took off to New Orleans without a thought in my head. It was during my time in Louisiana that I began to look back and realize how much time I'd spent being and feeling bitter towards myself and others. In college, I quickly learned I could take one of two paths: I could pretend to be a person that I hoped others would like, or I could act natural and see where that road took me. I chose the latter, and by the time I graduated college, I was able to do a few things that I hadn't before.
I began to see other women as friends and strangers, not competitors for men and cute clothing. I achieved this only after I accepted myself intellectually and physically. I stopped seeking the approval of men. (In fact, one could say that for awhile I thought men were my enemy and only good for sex.) Getting good grades and loving the curriculum at hand became extremely important to me. Thus, my bitterness slowly subsided.
There are times now when I still feel bitter. For example, I was a bit bitter when I found out Blake Lively was dating Leonardo DiCaprio. But the difference now is that I can immediately recognize those feelings, sit with them for a few minutes, and then cast them away. Why am I bitter? I ask this question when the feeling arises. Blake Lively is younger than me, more attractive, and, in my opinion, wickedly talented. But would I want to date Leo? No, of course not. I love my partner, Daniel. And it's in that moment when I think about all the things I have in my life that I am able to toss the bitterness out the window.
Growing up, I wasn't thankful for all I had going for me. Now I look back and think, "Man, my body was wonderful in high school. Why did I ever think I needed to lose weight?" I was smart but never cared enough about my brain power to recognize this. College and my move to Seattle thereafter helped me achieve all of this. Learning to let go of bad thoughts that would get me nowhere but an angry place made me the person I am today.
In closing, bitterness is a feeling and a state of mind. It is the most useless of all emotions. To be bitter is to miss out on life. Overcoming bitterness requires an open mind, a recognition of jealousy, and a realization of all you have to be thankful for. There is nothing that someone else has that you cannot obtain yourself through work and a belief in yourself. But do not put blinders on. Be aware of your surroundings. Be happy for others even if it is through gritted teeth. If a negative thought surfaces in your mind, think about it. Think about its roots and why it is there at that particular moment in your life. Maybe bitterness means something is missing in your own life, perhaps it means you just need a nap or a snack. But what I know for sure is that bitterness is a weight, and the sooner you can identify it, the sooner you can discard it with legitimacy. Without bitterness in your world, there exists a special freedom to love yourself, the good people you've chosen to be in your life, and strangers you've yet to meet.
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