You too can become great

Person 1: I went to the concert last week.
Person 2: Oh, you too?
Person 1: You were there?
Person 2: No, why do you ask?
Person 1: You asked if I was also there, as if you were there too.
Person 2: No I didn't.
Person 1: Yes, you did.
Person 2: Let's just forget it. I'm tired.
Person 1: Me too.
Person 2: So, you too?
Person 1: Yeah man, why do you keep asking me if I'm also something that you are? It's really annoying.
Person 2: Dude, you need to chill.
Person 1: Oh yeah???
Person 2: Yeah!
Person 1: Well so do you!
Person 2: YOU TOO!

And so U2 continues to create controversy and incite deep thought... both on a bigger political level and on a very personal one, such as above.

Ha. Point? U2 makes you think. At least they made me think. My seat was in the upper level of the MCI center, to the left of the band. I could still see Bono well enough to be completely moved and affected by the music, which seemed to fill the stadium and rise above the distractions that dared to present themselves... such as the drunk people a few rows in front of me. How can you have a loud drunken conversation during "One?" Seriously... it's like using your cell phone in church. Disgraceful. Oh well. It's all good. After all, we've got to carry eachother... carry eachother.

Ok, so I got a little "into" the concert. But it was U2! Not only can they still completely rock out, but they have a higher purpose. Some say it was a little over the top, a little cheesy. Well, I say bring on the cheese! What's wrong with a little cheese when you're promoting human rights and an end to poverty? What's wrong with a little cheese when you're fighting for what should be such a simple concept? I say the cheesier the better. Well, except if you're lactose intolerant. Then you might want to take it easy on the cheese. But you get the idea. Take some lactaid and rock on.

Together, we can end malaria in Africa. We can support a greater effort for human rights for ALL people. We can end poverty and disease everywhere! We can all COEXIST.Yahweh, Mohammed and Jesus... together again. Sunday Bloody Sunday? No more! Peace to all my brothers and sisters of the earth! Screw Hillary. Bono and Edge 2008!

Haha, ok, so through my sarcasm I hope you can see that I also admit to a slight "over the top" element. However, you have to give them credit. You have to admit that their campaign is a noble one. And, without idealists and social activists, where would we be? Sometimes we need to be inspired, to be challenged. End malaria in Africa? Is he for real? Well, according to Bono, it's possible. So maybe you look into it. Maybe you go to onecampaign.org and look around. Maybe you sign the petition for human rights. Maybe you give some money. Maybe one kid, just one kid, in Africa doesn't die because he had the right medicine. Maybe you feel good about that. Maybe you let an old man take your seat on the Metro. Maybe you go to work on Monday with a better understanding that the world is not just in your five mile radius. Maybe this knowledge calms you down with a deeper sense of what is real. Maybe that calm actually causes you to smile.

Idealist? Maybe. Did Bono have lunch with W the day of the concert. Yep. Did I eat too much bad stadium food that night? Oh yeah. So nothing's perfect. But a little inspiration never hurt anybody. I'm a cheeseball, what can I say.

The Romantic Cynic

What have I become? I've been talking to a guy recently who believes in the fundamentals of romance. Cuddling up to watch a movie. Sitting by a crackling fire on a snowy night. Listening to waves crash on the beach. Etc.

I'll be honest, these things make me want to hurl. Can you say cheeseball?

But then I got to thinking... this guy is sincere, as far as I can tell. Have I just been conditioned by society to think that romance is dead? Am I that bitter? Do I really believe that if a guy were to do any of those things that he's only after one thing?

How sad is that? Am I really that cynical when it comes to old fashioned romance? I feel like Carrie on Sex & the City.

Instead of trying to just get over it, I think I've come up with the explanation. Especially living in a big city, where everyone is basically here for their profession (in one way or another), there is a strong emphasis on power and getting ahead. And for women, it's even more important to focus on that goal. We are trained in many circles to make that our number one priority... not to be distracted by foolish sidebars like romance. Romance makes you weak... romance makes you vulnerable.

That's it! Aversion to romance is totally a defense mechanism. If I allow myself to give into it, I make myself vulnerable to emotions that might distract me from what should be my goal. After all, I am not here to clean a house and be a baby factory. No siree. I must prove my worth in more important areas... like memo writing and budget management! Ha.

So I protect myself from being emotional, from being hurt... and I laugh at romance.

But this sort of thinking causes a paradox in my head. What is a relationship without romance? Just a friend of the opposite sex? Just the physical gratification?

Nah, romance is alive. We just have to let it back in. The more I think about it, the more I believe we can have the best of both worlds. Someone just told me not to give up. Keep trying. You get hurt, so what. Get back up. Try again.

I cry at the Mighty Ducks. I lose it during Hallmark commercials and Beaches. That is me. I love to see people love eachother... holding hands, a warm glance, a kiss when they think no one is watching. That is romance. And it's out there.

My mom and I were part of larger conversation a few months ago. We started talking about marriage versus being on your own. Someone said, men, what good are they? Who needs them, right? And my mom turns to me and says, "I hope you find love. I know it's out there for you."

And so giving up is no longer an option...

Bring on that fireplace on a snowy evening! I'll get some champagne and strawberries. Just no heart shaped vibrating beds. That is one step too far, I'm sorry.

Speed Living

So I did it... I tried speed dating. Yes, it's true. And it took me a whole three weeks to write about it, not because of embarrassment, but more because I had to let it all sink in.

For those of you not familiar with the process... you walk in, sign your name, get a name sticker, apply your name to the sticker, apply a random number to the sticker and then apply the sticker to your "lapel area." That was great - right off the bat you're a number. Individuality denied. But that is the trick - to express your individuality through a sticker and several very quick four-minute conversations.

Best part of the evening. I go to the bathroom to, I'll admit it, give my hair one final once over before making about 20 first impressions. I'm in the stall and I hear about four girls, giggle sequences in full throttle, taking about the aforementioned name stickers. They decided that they'd get much more attention if they applied the sticker to their "breast area." No doubt that their method was a good one. Except they didn't take into account body lotion and perfume - two anti-sticker substances. Boy did this cause a problem. How would they ever get dates with no sticker? With no number? Bet they figured it out. Ha.

My friend and I (this was a bring-a-friend speed dating party) proceeded to the bar, did a shot and continued to ease the tension with a cool refreshing Miller Lite out of a very classy plastic cup. Nice job DC Young Professionals.

I won't bore you with every detail, but I'm sure you can picture it. Four minutes per "date." Move on. Four minutes. Move on. Four minutes. This is fun! Four minutes. Man, this guy is wasted. Four minutes. Man, this guy is a dork. Four minutes. Didn't I just talk to you? Four minutes. Another lawyer. Huh. Four minutes. Getting bored. Four minutes. Losing my voice. Four minutes. Haha. Your number is 69. Dude, that's awesome. Four minutes. Is that your real name? Four minutes. You came all the way from Maryland to do this? Loser. Four minutes. Is this over yet? Four minutes. Need another beer. Four minutes. I can't believe my friend left me with a guy named Sparky. Four minutes. You're old enough to be my father. Four minutes. Ding ding ding!

Yes, there was a bell. Like cattle, branded by numbers and herded with a bell. Was this really happening? Yes, yes it was. And I did this purely of my own volition. But I have no regrets. I met some "interesting" people, had some amuzing conversations. Like the conversation about late night highway construction. That was a real page turner, let me tell you.

Ah, the single life... full of ups and downs. And when you live in a face paced city, speed dating seems to fit right in. Speed dating stems from speed living, right? We are very caught up in the little details of life and we forget about the big important stuff, like relationships. So we try to squeeze them in. Four minutes, that's all we get? Sometimes it's better to take it easy... chill out... lathargic dating. That's my next adventure.