A Message from Bill

I got the following email from Bill Clinton this afternoon:

"Dear Natasha,

During the campaign, Hillary and I didn't have the chance to eat together much because we were usually on the trail in different states. Now that the campaign's over, I'm glad we can share more meals again.

Of all the people I've had the privilege to break bread with, the person I most enjoy is still Hillary.

Now you have a chance to have dinner with her...."

I must first say that I voted for Hillary and was devastated (I mean, get teary-eyed while listening to her speak on NPR) devastated. But, this email from Bill makes me angry. First of all, the whole part about the not getting to sit down for dinner is complete B.S. Come on! The only reason that marriage has lasted is because it has to in order for them to both have political careers.

Not only is Bill's email just obviously an overstatement to make their marriage look healthy and "American." What a terrible example Hillary is to young women. Sure, she is successful and passionate, but she isn't willing to chew her own leg off (free herself) to be in a relationship where she is valued and respected. Of course, I know nothing about the Clintons' marriage so this is all speculation, but I imagine there are at least some lingering feelings after the Lewinsky scandal, if not the antics Bill has been up to their whole marriage.

Hillary makes it okay for us to be in sham marriages. We can use a man's name, or money, for our own gain. Marry up, as the phrase goes. And sure, I suppose there is nothing wrong with using marriage, and a man, to get ahead. But to me, it seems like it would suck the life, the passion, and the self-respect right out of you.

When I voted for Hillary in the primaries, I was filled with pride, excitement, and joy. Finally! I was a little choked up about the whole thing, to be honest. Now, I am a bit disillusioned by her. No wonder she couldn't get the youth vote. Young women like me couldn't possibly think she is intelligent. Not while her husband is out screwing anything that moves, as she smiles on acting as if we aren't in on her and Bill's little secret.

So, thanks Bill. But I don't want to have dinner with Hillary. Wouldn't want to take you guys away from each other.

Something Sparkly That Way Goes

Minutes after logging onto Facebook recently to procrastinate/"check" my profile (anything to prolong my writer's block, really), I find out that yet another college pal is engaged. Before you write me off and label me jealous, let me just assure you that I am completely denial-less of that fact. Of course I'm jealous! She's got the security of having her future all tied up in pretty package wrapped in white tulle and lace. And she's got three-months of her boyfriend's salary on her pretty little finger while mine remains stark naked with no hope of covering up any time soon. When everyone around you seems to be getting engaged or married, it's hard to feel good about introducing people to your "boyfriend." I'm stuck in relationship purgatory without a paddle.

While I admit that yes, I would love it to be me this time, typically I am also happy for someone when they get engaged. Yet, I can’t help but think about how she and her SITM started dating after my boyfriend and I did. About a month after to be precise. I can't help feeling a little bad about myself. Aren’t I fiancé-worthy? Aren’t I marriage material too? As Meg Ryan says in "When Harry Met Sally": "What's the matter with me?"

Ten Signs You're an Idiot

Opening my laptop this morning I spot a most scintillating article on Yahoo! that brings my sleepy eyes into focus. “Ten Signs You’re Dating a Commitment-Ready Guy” by Caroline Presno is the type of article I can’t help but pour over and analyze. After all, the state of my relationship might depend on it.

“Are you ready for a relationship that is going to lead somewhere without you being led on?,” Presno asks. “If you're interested in getting married, ignore [this article] at your own risk.” Basically, if you don’t want to be stuck treading water in relationship purgatory without an engagement ring, read on.

At first glance, with only a few sips of coffee in my belly, I was able to point out two “signs” my boyfriend Willie fulfills right away. Willie does take care of me when I am sick! And he asks for my opinion on…well…everything. (How much detergent he should put in the washing machine? Should he wear socks or not?) Yes! We’re on the right track! Does that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside? You bet.

Besides the presumption on Presno’s part that her signs will solve all my wonderings about my relationship, this article creates another problem for itself—it’s bullshit. There really is only one sign you’re dating a commitment ready guy: All you have to do is ask. “Hey, you—what do you think about us getting married one day?”

Phhsst—that would never work, you say. Men don’t like to take about marriage. That would scare them away. Too fucking bad! If a simple question leads your boyfriend to run for the hills, as the phrase goes, then you have your answer. Besides, who concocted the idea that we can’t talk about marriage with men in the first place? How do we all implicitly know we shouldn’t bring it up? Presno and company encourage use of their “signs” and other tricks because if we could just ask our boyfriends, without being afraid to, these experts would be out of jobs.

Presno wrote a book entitled “Profiling Your Date: A Smart Woman’s Guide to Evaluating a Man,” which, like her article, tells us to carefully analyze potential husbands in order to not end up with Mr. Wrong, or, worse, nobody at all. Since when do we need help deciding if a guy is (to quote the book’s website) “narcissistic, rude, or unreliable”? Smart women have no need for this book. But plenty will pick it up.

Her signs are obvious: “The guy who is commitment-ready is going to initiate doing things with you…A guy who keeps you separate from the important people in his life is just playing around.” These are laughable, certainly not for women in real relationships, with committed boyfriends. Nor for savvy single women, or anyone with half a brain.

Let’s try something new. Don’t click the link. Don’t buy the book. Let’s stop the wondering. Stop the analyzing. Why don’t we stop treating our boyfriends like a case study or a lab experiment? Let’s stop soliciting advice from people who don’t even know us. Stop second-guessing our instincts. Just ask.

The Vacuum

I found a word doc on my computer today with some musings/rants I jotted down after a lunch with my best friend J. It's from a little over a year ago, right after moving back to L.A. from NY, but I thought it was still relevant in some ways to how I feel every so often about where I am at in my life. (And how great is this pic of J and I from when we "starred" in a hip hop music video entitled "Ride Rims"?!)

A realization:

Over lunch with J I realized that I am not the only one feeling like my life is completely uncertain/I just want to sit in my room all day and do nothing/if I didn't sit in my room all day doing nothing, I don't know what I want to do anyway.

Post-college life is a vacuum. It. Sucks. And...yeah.

There actually was a point to that metaphor before I fucked it all up. It's a vacuum because everything I thought I wanted or knew I believed in is gone, I can't remember anything! Everything I try I decide I don't like anymore. So, instead of wallowing in the fact that, at 23, I am living with my parents, don't know if I want to actually finish grad school next year, and I may or may not have a job I may or may not like in about two months, whew, I am making a list of things to life for...I guess I'm trying the whole positive thinking thing that I tell other people works...



1. Laughing way too hard at something that will only be funny to a few select people (and later, texting whatever it is to someone randomly and laughing again about it despite time and distance)


2. The wave of sunshine that washes over you when you hear a song that reminds you of "that one time..."


3. Kissing for the first time
.

4. Kissing for the millionth time but having it feel like your first

.

And when all else fails, go for the Jager I guess....this list is really short. I think I'm a pessimist moonlighting as an optimist, because really, I can't think of more happy things that are really truly happy. I mean like get you through the worst possible day of your life happy...

Already Twenty-Three

I thought this was the sort of thing reserved for the over-40. Yesterday, over a bowl of Special K, that I thought came free with my $200/night room at the Hilton, I found myself forgetting my own age. Twenty-two, right? 

Nope. Twenty-three.

I'm not complaining that I'm old. I'm pretty, I have a great ass--oh, yes, I said it. I've heard that since I was 15, might as well own it, right? Really, life is good. But is it good enough?

So, I'm twenty-three, apparently, but I have to clue what I want to do with the 3/4 of my life that I have left. Nine years ago, I was in high school. How did I grow up so fast? I don't feel twenty-three, and I certainly don't look it. I just have nothing to show for it. I'm in grad school--which is likely a huge waste of time and money--my job is up in the air. I look back to those high school days, and I have no idea what I thought I wanted to do back then. I can't remember what I was thinking when I picked my college majors--PR and Theatre. I don't know what I'm really good at, I can't piece together clues from years past that indicate, "A-ha! That's what I outta be doing!" I feel like I'm letting my childhood self down, the girl with big dreams, singing to her reflection in the armoir mirror. She couldn't wait to grow up and win Academy Awards, become a pop star. What I lacked in talent, I thought, I would make up for with ambition. 

Maybe I'm hormonal, maybe it's the fact that I just got back from three amazing weeks in a foreign country where life was so much simpler. I'm back in the rat race and I wish I could throw in my running shoes and say--enough. Why does it matter so much anyway?

Fun, Fun, Fun

Life is not a colorful fast-forwarded montage set to empowering music. Like the kind you see on the Carnival cruise ship commercials that glorify golf as a high impact whirlwind activity full of fun and laugher. In the commercial, first we see couples laughing and smiling, then a group of gal pals skipping into the ocean, and finally, it’s a grand finale of lavish dinners, clinking glasses, arms waving in unabashed hallelujahs, whimsically-large gold coins spilling out of shiny slot machines.

When we’re young we’re allowed to dream as big as we can. We’re encouraged to look towards “someday,” to lay daydreaming on our backs in the warm grass of parents' front yards, to dress up like our favorite Disney princesses and action heroes. The reality is, only a top chosen few become the household names, the ones on the best seller’s list, the talk show hosts, the movie stars. It’s a long way to the top and along that way, many spin on their defeated heels in search of stability. We give up to feel safe again, we know the odds and they aren’t in our favor.

In fact, much of what we encounter in life tells us that we won’t make it, can’t do it. When we reach a certain age, and this magic number is different for everyone in light of finances, tragedies and opportunities, we have to grow up. And growing up means being responsible, serious, mature. Yuck.

When did fun become the structured escape of a hundred-things-to-do-a-second Carnival cruise and not a requisite for living normal life? Is it because at some point we had to stop believing? Is it because we learned to be practical, to think about our finances, putting a down payment on a house someday? When did we start worrying about getting married and having kids before we’re “too old?” Too soon, I think.

Girl Power?

No matter how far we've come, I can't help but believe that women still have it harder than men. Well, I should say, we have it different. Being 24, I feel limited in a sense by my womanhood and by the various obligations I inherently have.

Women are nurturers. But modern women, young women like me sometimes give themselves too much to others, namely men only regret it later and lash out. I feel sometimes stuck between what I 'should' do and be like and what I think I want to do and be like. Sometimes I get to a point that life is so uncomfortable that I MUST break free of it. Are the binds we put ourselves into and the way we “give give give” instinctual or are they a product of what we think we “should” do to be women in today’s society?

Also floating around my mind right now is this idea of conspicuous consumption and culture of buying beauty, and in turn, happiness and status. Is this a women-only phenomenon? Many of us strive for bodily perfection. We have the technology to perform surgeries to augment and contort our bodies into ideals. And really, only the wealthy can really participate. (Bad plastic surgery and fake Prada bags are worse than not having them at all I think.)

How does the idea of doing as we 'should' relate to perfection, and then also to our relatively newfound equality? We are told from an early age that women are just as good as men, you know, girl power! and the like. But when we reach adulthood, we are limited. We can’t get all the top jobs. We are expected to get married and pop out babies. Do we want to do these things because we really want them or is it just the way things are?

Playing Dress-Up

I thought all my life I wanted to act, but it turned out that I just wanted to be an actress. does this make sense? After doing a couple very, very (did I say very?) independent projects, I realized I hated acting. I hated the waiting around, the perusing of the craft services cart (i.e. consuming extra calories via a bag of chee-tos I certainly didn't need). The make-up touch-ups. Waiting for the lighting, the sound, the director to get off his cell phone. I remember looking at the covers of US Weekly and People and I realized I didn’t want to do their jobs, I wanted their stuff. I wanted the life, the freebies, the special treatment. The fame. Oh, yes. I've said it. Am I wrong?

When we’re kids, we are always asked what we want to be when we grow up. The sky is the limit, if there is one. Astronaut, doctor, pop star, whatever. As we grow-up in America, it seems that instead of actually majoring in neuroscience in college or going to med school for 7 plus years, or taking singing lessons, we just want to put on the costume, whether it’s a space suit, a lab coat, or leather pants.

Does my generation just want to play dress up?

Mid-20s Ambition Crisis

Here's a breakdown of my quarterlife stress (written while I was living in New York City, just over one year ago):

We have to go to grad school now to get better jobs/make more money--but then we have student loans.

Can't really “live” in NY because we don’t have money or we have to work all day so we can't actually enjoy it.

Some of us decide get married for security...

Have to know what we want so we can get life started

Have to get married by 30s

Now that women are expected to have careers we have to have that too

Oh and we have to be attractive and fit

Because at the end of the day, no matter how successful we are, it is on our biology to find a husband (for heterosexual women).

How depressing.