On Sincerity and Being Raised Evangelical

"Each year, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch that he thinks is the most sincere. He's gotta pick this one. He's got to. I don't see how a pumpkin patch can be more sincere than this one. You can look around and there's not a sign of hypocrisy. Nothing but sincerity as far as the eye can see."
-Linus, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown"

I've been drawn to sincerity lately. 

"As opposed to what?" you ask.

You may not have noticed, but I'm normally drawn to sarcasm, irony and snark.

It's weird. I've been doing a lot of sincere things recently. Sincerely. 

For example, I've been going to yoga. Have you ever tried doing downward dog insincerely? It's tough. 

I've also been listening to this song a lot. 

In addition, I went to a poetry writing group. The sincerity was as thick and oozing as blue cheese that's been sitting in a 70 degree office for three days. [This is not meant as a criticism of poetry groups or of this poetry group in particular. This poetry group is awesome.]

So, in the spirit of sincerity, I need to get something off my chest: 

My childhood was crazy--freaking insane. 

Can I just admit this? Can I just say it out loud? 

I don't even know who I'm looking for permission from--my parents, God, peers. 

Maybe my childhood was crazy in a generic fundamentalist-evangelical-culture-in-the-90s kind of way, and you grew up experiencing the same kind of crazy, and we can talk about it and laugh about it over an IPA or five. 

Or maybe my childhood was crazy in a very specific, unique way, the way that all families manufacture their own specific brand of nuts. Hard to say.

As a kid, I read everything and I believed almost as much.

I read Rush Limbaugh and absorbed the term "Feminazi." I also read the Book of Genesis and cried bitterly when I came to this passage: 

"To the woman he said, “I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.”
-Genesis 3:16

This was not a single tear rolling down my face. This was curled up on the bunk bed I shared with my sister, clutching my Bible, I'm not sure I believe in God anymore tears. 

I was, like most 12 year-olds, very--well, sincere. 

And on some level, I believed that God hated women. I mean, just look at that curse. I'll take thorns and thistles for $1,000, Alex. 

And yet, in many ways I bought wholeheartedly into Christian culture. I out-did the most legalistic advice from Focus on the Family. I out-Phariseed the most stringent Pharisee. I believed deeply in the sincerity of my faith. And now I feel betrayed. 

I've watched my peers raised in evangelical Christian culture go to opposite extremes:

Type Y: Further entrenchment

Type Z: Complete rejection 

But I suppose there are also a substantial number of us in the middle--Christian, but not necessarily conservative. Maybe we support gay marriage or smoke pot every other Friday or don't think twice about dropping the F bomb. 

You know the type. 

Our Christianity is snarkier, more politically correct, more hip, more in touch with the inner cynic. We embrace doubt, irony, ambiguity, paradox, and "everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial."

Even as I reflect on the church of my youth, I find it difficult to relate to the incredibly "relevant" church I currently attend. There are things about it that I just don't get, such as: 

• Why is the focus of evangelism still on getting people to come to church? 
• Is that what this slick, well-produced video is for? 
• Was that guy in the video the same guy I saw in that All-State commercial yesterday?

And through it all, I'm drawn to the sincerity of the gospel. 

I'm still sitting in that pumpkin patch. It's cold. I'm tired. I want to go home and sleep in my warm bed. I don't feel cool or hip or relevant. I feel exhausted and beaten down. I feel ready to give up. 

Maybe then, the Great Pumpkin will come. 

"That's Not Cool, Bro": Homosociality, Objectification and the Uses of Social Media in Rape Culture

I've been contemplating writing this for a while now. This is the "nice" version, believe it or not. The hide yo' wife, hide yo' kids, hide yo' husbands version is in the works.

Upfront disclaimer: I'm going to talk about rape. And feminism. And Twitter.

Maybe you've heard about the Steubenville, Ohio rape case. Maybe you haven't. You can read about it here or here, but if you don't care to, a few facts about what allegedly took place:

1. Two high school football players sexually assaulted a girl at a party.
2. Many other people were present.
3. Some of these other students / partygoers posted to YouTube or Twitter about the rape.
4. They expressed positive and/or approving thoughts and feelings about the rape [There's a YouTube video of a guy talking and laughing about it].

Now, I think you and I have at least a little bit of difficulty getting into the headspace of a rapist. We probably also have a problem getting into the headspace of anyone who would think of rape as a good thing.

Nevertheless, these people and these reactions exist, so let's think about it for a minute. Okay, more than a minute:

Why would someone think that rape is funny?

There's a lack of identification. There's a lack of empathy. There is perhaps a sense that the victim of rape deserves to be raped.

Then, think about the dynamics of two intersecting phenomena: homosocial approval and social media.

What is homosocial approval?

For the purposes of this blog, homosocial approval is explicit or implicit social approval from other dudes. In the case of Steubenville, this could be an over-identification with football, with high school social status, and with the approval that comes from other guys when you boast about your sexual conquests.

Of course, homosocial approval is not always negative. It can be very positive. But when combined with sexual violence and social media, it becomes something else entirely. See also this incident in which two high school boys took pictures of a girl as they assaulted her (because what's a sexual assault unless you can show pics to your friends later, amiright?).

Like most of us, I have borderline racist and misogynistic friends and/or acquaintances. [I'm sorry, is that harsh? You know what I'm talking about, though. Maybe it's because I have a lot of Christian friends (low blow).]

And the friendly misogynist-next-door--he's unlikely to ever rape anyone. However, he does continue to perpetuate the idea that women are objects. Or, that a woman's primary value is in how she looks. Or that she's fair game as long as she's legal. Or that a woman is responsible for a man's behavior. And that, my friend, is destructive.

I started writing this with a question: How do my male friends respond when their friend says something borderline racist/misogynistic? Does it bother him? Does he say something? Does he shrug it off? Does he laugh nervously?

I guess that was actually a series of questions.

I'm asking you, hypothetical guy friend, to do one thing: withhold your approval. Don't agree. Don't fist bump. Don't retweet. Don't hit "like."

Maybe the phrase "rape culture" makes you mad--because you believe that there is no such thing. That it's a phrase coined by feminists to victimize men. Fine. Forget that phrase. Call it whatever you want. Call it dude-thinks-rape-is-super-funny-in-youtube-video culture. I don't care.

And what about me? I'm female. Guys are supposed to be trying to impress me. Doesn't my approval or lack thereof count too?

It doesn't. Not in the same way. I'm not the target audience here. You try lecturing a guy on manners after he calls you a bitch for turning him down. Or giving a crash course on sexual harassment to the gentleman, and I use that term loosely, who won't take "No" for an answer. It's not gonna happen.

He doesn't care what I think. That crude joke was not for my benefit. It was for you. Not me.

So hey bro, dude, man, whatever. Do me a favor and don't laugh.

It's not that funny, anyway.

The INTP and the Missing "Nice"

There once was an INTP who lived neither far far away nor very very close-by.

And she was happy, living in her little INTP world, doing semi-productive and often baffling INTP things, like cross-referencing ancient poetry and never dusting. 

But one day, as she was making her biweekly visit to Extrovert-World, she said something not-nice, and the people gasped. "That's not NICE," said no one in particular.

"What?" The INTP was befuddled.

"Not NICE," repeated no one.

"Oh," said the INTP.

The INTP returned to her little INTP world and thought hard about what she had said. Though the intent was not to hurt anyone, someone had been hurt. This made her sad.

"I must not have this 'NICE' that they speak of," she concluded, vowing to do her best to find it. But search as she would, she could not find the NICE that seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

The INTP's visits to Extrovert-World became fewer and farther between.

"Better to be safe than sorry," she thought.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Resolutions: A 2012 Retrospective

So, last year I made a few New Year's resolutions. This is a recap of what I actually did. Warning: Yes, it is depressing.

1. Read more.

Er, well, maybe I read more. You see, in 2011 I spent most of the year working at a bookstore warehouse surrounded by books, many of which I wanted to read, but couldn't (you know, what with working getting in the way and all).

I was textually frustrated.*

In 2012, I got another job, and then ANOTHER job, neither of which involved books. I did read a few books. I did not read as many as I would have liked.

New goal: get paid to read books.

Truthfully, I still read all the time. Probably for hours a day. I just read online material: blogs, Slate, articles, more blogs.

2. Write more.

I did write more (mostly for this blog). I did not, however, get published all that much. I kind of stopped trying after submitting to two places and not getting published.

One blog post that I wrote, Are You Experienced?  I originally submitted to Relevant. They didn't take it.

However, I don't regret the effort that I put into that essay. I worked a little harder than I normally do on the craft of it, and I took the time to be really honest with myself about not only what I felt but why I felt that way.

I think it paid off.

It's gotten more of a response than any other thing I've written.

Although my top post of all time is still How to hit on a girl on facebook. Thanks, Google.

3. Think less.

There's no real way to measure this. Did I go with my gut more? Worry less? Overanalyze less? Now I'm thinking about thinking!

4. Participate.

I'd like to think I participated, at least a little bit. I also blew off social commitments and plans for no other reason than that I was tired. I was that lame person who fell asleep by 11pm on New Year's Eve. I was the person who RSVP'ed on facebook and then never showed up. Sorry everyone.

5. Shoot more.
This one was actually kind of a success--I shot a lot, especially toward the beginning of the year.

I shot a short film with my sister. I shot footage for a music festival near San Diego, I shot a friend's feature-length Shakespeare adaptation. I had fun.

There are studies that say sharing goals actually makes you less likely to achieve them because just by getting positive social feedback, you already FEEL like you've achieved your goals, when actually you've only stated them out loud (or online).

I think this year will be more about discerning the difference between what I think I should want to do and what I ACTUALLY want to do.

I'm pretty sure I want to do more of the above.






*My theory about working in/at/for a bookstore or owning a bookstore is this: You should love books, but not too much. If you love books too much, you will want to keep them all for yourself, so you can read them or decoratively display them in your tastefully furnished hipster apartment. You won't want to let them go. Working around books without being able to read them is hard. Luckily, I have the willpower of small, scrappy mule with an eyepatch.

Why is Church Cliquey?

Why is church cliquey? I suppose I have a few theories about this--and I'm not just talking about my own church--reports have come in from far and wide about the cliquey nature of church, primarily from people my own age. Specifically, what makes the church foyer such an awkward place for new people? Why does it seem difficult to "break in"--to a conversation, a circle, a tight-knit social group?

Some theories: 

Theory 1: We respect your right to disengage more than we value your desire to be engaged.

Theory 2: The rise of irony makes it difficult to express sincere, unabashed interest in something or someone.

Theory 3: Church is "home" and we want to talk to our "family." 

Theory 4: Church is a series of loosely connected social circles. Maybe you're new, or maybe you just belong to one of the other social circles. Either way, I don't know you and I probably won't talk to you unless our circles intersect.

Theory 5: In LA especially, it seems like everyone wants something from you--sex, a date, a pitch meeting, a job, the secret of how you got your hair to do that crazy poof thing. Or they don't, in which case, why are they talking to you again?

What does the opposite of cliquey look like? I'm not sure, but I can hazard a guess, or rather, an experience: Black churches. I can remember going to one or several with family when we were visiting from out-of-state. To say that we were welcomed with open arms (literally) would be an understatement. We were "loved on." Hugged. Called "sister" or "brother."

My own history with church cliqueness is complicated. I was the awkward kid at the church party. Scratch that, I still am the awkward kid at the church party. 

When I was 9 and attending grade school in China, of course I didn't fit in. I was American, a foreigner, a lao wai. When I was 12 and started going to my international church's youth group, of course I didn't fit in. Most of the kids were older and "cooler." When I was 15 and we moved back to the states and I started going to youth group there, of course I didn't fit in. I was still reeling from the move and my parents' divorce, still adjusting to a new (old) country.

Whatever it is that makes fitting into social groups effortless (or at least non-awkward) never clicked for me.

I've blamed other people. I've blamed church for being cliquey, when the only thing I had to blame was my own lack of social skills. Blessed are the awkward, for they shall inherit all of the spinach dip.

"[T]he foreigner excludes before being excluded, even more than [s]he is being excluded."

-Kristeva

I'm not claiming that church is not cliquey. I'm not claiming that people aren't excluded, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

If you think that church is cliquey, if you feel excluded, judged, put down, ignored, insignificant--I'm sorry. If you've stopped going to church because you feel like you don't fit in--I'm sorry too. But one thing I've learned is that as much as I try, I can't separate my relationship with God from my relationship with other people. I can't love God and hate his church. I can't pursue God and cut off my brother, my sister. I can't harbor resentment and bitterness in my heart and claim that it's all okay, because God and I are okay.

I'm not saying you should attend a church that spiritually abuses you. I'm not saying you need to reconcile with those who excluded or ignored you. I'm not saying you need to agree with everything a church teaches. I'm saying, in a deeper sense, there is no in-crowd.

Whatever the point of hurt is, whatever the wound--it matters to God. For me, that would be feeling like the church doesn't care about my gifts and talents. It might be different for you. But don't give up. Be awkward. But don't be a stranger.

I attended a church-related holiday function alone recently, and as I told my friends, "I'm worried it will be awkward." The party promised to feature such cringe-worthy activities as "singing Christmas carols" and "eating white chocolate popcorn." But, impending awkwardness be damned, I went anyway, fruit tart in hand. And guess what? I was the awkward one (I know. I was surprised too).

I got there, promptly ignored the host when he introduced himself to me, in my nervousness drank large quantities of what turned out to be not-ice-tea, and generally faux-pas-ed it up in admirable fashion. And I had a great time. People went out of their way to make me feel welcome. When asked by one guy I had just met how I knew the people at the party, I replied, "I don't really know anyone here."

He said, "You know me."




Want more?

Why is church cliquey? Part 2
Why is church cliquey? Part 3
Why is church cliquey? Part 4
Why is church cliquey? Part 5

Advice From the Google Trenches: Hitting on Girls, Respect at Work, and Why a Guy Might Think You're Desperate

And we're back! It's time for the next installment of "advice you didn't really ask for based on google search queries that led to this blog." You can find the first installment here. Let's get down to it.

"How to hit on a girl"

Today is your lucky day. I'm going to let you in on a little secret: you can talk to girls as if they are real people. Seriously! I'm not joking. Oh, you want me to be more specific? Okay.

1) Make eye contact. I'm not saying stare intensely into her eyes--I am saying don't stare at the ground the entire time if you can help it.
2) Smile. More specifically, smile while making eye contact. Be prepared to catch her if she swoons.
3) Ask her questions, preferably about herself.
4) Listen intently to what she says. You can even repeat back key points, so she knows you're paying attention.
5) Watch your body language. Are you facing toward her, facing her at an angle, or facing completely away? If you're making eye contact and smiling, this shouldn't be an issue.
6) If you are talking to a girl and you like her, it will probably be obvious that you like her. Hitting-on-girl mission accomplished.
7) It's okay to be nervous. If she likes you, she'll probably think it's cute.

If you're ready for some next level stuff, I suggest reading this post over at LABullets. Be careful though--it's not for the faint of heart.

"Thoughts about work and respect"

I have a lot of thoughts about work and respect:
-Playful banter and/or ribbing is not the same as disrespect. Of course, every workplace is different.
-If you feel you are not getting the respect you are due, there could be a deeper issue.
-This deeper issue could be with you--are you placing your worth in your job? Will any amount of respect ever be enough? Imagine getting what you want. How would it make you feel?
-This deeper issue could be with workplace dynamics or politics. It could have nothing to do with you.
-If someone condescends to you or puts you down, it might be worth it to call them out on it--to say, "Hey, what do you mean by that?"
-Ultimately, you can't change someone else's behavior or attitude. Think about why this is so important to you. Can you make peace with not getting the respect you think you deserve? If not, it might be time to look for a different job.

"Why a guy might think you're desperate"

Whoa. Hold up right there, girlfriend. Did a guy actually tell you he thinks you're desperate? No? Then what are you worried about?

There's tons of advice out there (I should know, I googled it) on not appearing desperate. But chances are if you're asking why a guy might think you're desperate, you're too self-aware to actually be desperate.

Desperate people are not self-aware. They are too busy etching their crushes' names into their forearms.

Speaking of which, if you like a guy, it's okay to tell him. Telling him does not make you desperate. Flirting with him does not make you desperate. Wanting a boyfriend does not make you desperate. Holding someone's favorite stuffed animal hostage until he agrees to date you--that makes you desperate.

Your question does bring up another issue: the difficulty of navigating the often contradictory demands placed on women by contemporary culture: being sexy, but not slutty; being intelligent, but non-threatening; being attractive, but low-maintenance; being independent, but still needing a man; being just-interested-enough, but not desperate. You can read more about this here.

Now, if you'll excuse me--I need to go mail this ransom note from "Binky."

How to Make Me Happy

In Anna Karenina, Tolstoy famously wrote that "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

My happiness depends more than I would like to admit on external factors that I usually have very little control over. Which is to say, all the environments I've been happy in tend to share certain characteristics.

The title actually doesn't make sense, of course, as no one can actually make me happy. But, you know what I mean. If someone needed a user's guide to me, it might include some of the following points. 99% of the time, I am super easy to please. Really. And now for a few items:

1. Food.

This one should go without saying. Food is important. I like it. I may not be particularly great at feeding myself, but I am really great at exploiting--I mean, finding--events with free food. I am all over that.

My sister is really good at feeding people. Seriously. She owns her own dumpling truck, and you should check it out. I always eat well when she's around.

2. Junk food.

Junk food goes into its own special category. I like it. Particularly if it's free. I'm the only one in my family who still thinks junk food is cool. The rest of the lot have all embraced something scary called "healthy eating"--and yet my brother still steals my skittles. Who's the hypocrite here, hmm?

3. Freedom to work independently.

I'm crazy independent. I like figuring things out on my own, but I also want to be able to ask questions. Sometimes, I just do stuff. I can't help it! It's the way I am.

4. People.

People make me happy. I like being around them and bugging them. You know how you just like people sometimes for no reason? You see them and you just want to smile.

5. Writing (and the freedom to write whatever I want to write).

If I'm not writing, something is wrong. Or I'm just being lazy. Or I'm afraid that people are actually reading what I write. It's complicated--but the freedom to write the truth the best that I know how feels a bit like God's intention for my life.

6. Talking through ideas.

If I couldn't do this, I think I would die.

7. People making fun of me (teasing me?).

I'm not sure why I love this, but I do. I myself can't pull it off without sounding like a jerk.

8. Learning new things.

9. Good writing.

10. Sleep deprivation. Stress. Challenging circumstances. Being on set. Filmmaking.

11. Teaching/training

I used to work as a master control operator at a small TV station and I was so excited to get to train new employees (three people, singly, to be exact) to do the job. My favorite part had been the training, and so I was looking forward to training other people. There's something about seeing someone put into practice something you've taught them. There's definitely a sense of pride.

Take Your Introvert to Work Day

Actual conversation at a new job:

Supervisor: "Hi M____. I'm just going to say hello. We don't need to have an awkward morning conversation.
Me: "Are you sure? I have a minute."
Supervisor: "No, I think we're good."

I could be wrong, but I think he was referencing our "checking in" conversations wherein he would say encouraging, nice things about this being a new job and all and I would look at him quizzically.

In case you hadn't noticed, I am an introvert (an INTP if you want to get technical).

Dammit. Secret's out. No one will ever hire me to do anything even remotely extroverted, like greet shoppers at Wal-Mart or sell used cars.

My life is over.

But seriously, have you ever noticed how many job descriptions contain the words, "must be outgoing"? I like to call this the extrovert-bias. I give you the opening of an actual job ad on Craigslist:

"Are you a quiet person? DO you consider yourself an introvert? Do you often keep your thoughts, ideas and opinions to yourself? If you answered YES to any of these questions, now is the time to stop reading this job description. No really, stop reading and please take a minute to forward this along that overly passionate, ambitious & outgoing friend of yours."

Because introverts are never passionate, ambitious or expressive. No. Of course not. If I have ideas or thoughts, I like nothing more than to keep them to myself. Always. Yep. No opinions here. 

Incidentally, Carl King wrote a great blog titled "10 Myths About Introverts." Go read it. 

This is my version of that article, with a special emphasis on the introvert at work. Perhaps you are either an introvert who works or you know a few introverts that do. Consider yourself educated on this important issue. 

To start with definitions: You are an extrovert if you get energy from socializing and being around other people. You are an introvert if you get energy, in other words you recharge, by being by yourself.

Just because I'm introvert doesn't mean...

That I hate people.

In fact, I'm usually a fan. You're a person? Awesome! Me too. I like people, especially singly. I need to be around people just as much as I need time alone. Sometimes, I don't like being around large groups of people. This is not because I don't like people. It's because large quantities of them can be overwhelming and all I can hear in my brain is "RETREAT, RETREAT."

This applies to interpersonal relationships too. That introverted girl at work? She doesn't hate you either. Unless you're a jerk. In which case, she probably does hate you.

That I don't like to talk.

Ha. Hahahaha. I can see anyone who's ever really gotten to know me rolling their eyes at this very second. I pity the person stuck with me in a car for 4-18 hours. I will start talking about the meaning of life. Try and stop me.

Admittedly, I'm more likely to talk if the other person is really listening (or has no choice, see road trip example above). Often, I'm trying to develop a thought or idea and I want the other person to stay with me on that contemplative highway until we either A) come to a preliminary conclusion, B) take a snack break.

A friend once told me that I'm a good conversationalist. I think what she meant is that I have an agenda (something I want to talk about) and I attempt to steer the conversation in that direction.

I tried this at a speed dating event once. After a few rounds of telling people "what I do" and hearing about their exciting jobs in retail, I decided that we were going to talk about what I wanted to talk about. I asked each guy I was paired with the same question, listened, responded, and enjoyed myself immensely while also gathering new data for one of the research projects currently going on in my mind.

That I'm shy.

This comes and goes for me. I know that not all introverts are shy. The problem with being quiet or reserved is that people tend to project characteristics onto your personality that don't necessarily apply. Such as,

That I'm insecure.

This can be true sometimes too. But sometimes, I'm insanely confident in my abilities. Maybe a little too confident.

That I'm judging you.

I get this one a lot. Let me just state for the record that I enjoy "that's what she said" moments almost as much as the next person. I'm not judging you. I'm just not chiming in. I never quite know what to say to stuff like, "Wow, you must think we're all really weird." Yes, I do?

That I'm socially awkward.

I've been thinking about this one a lot. I've certainly had my awkward moments (see above), but I'm not sure if this makes me socially awkward.

I have this theory that socially awkward moments are all about timing. I see you and say, "Hi." Two seconds go by. You say "Hi" back. Something feels off. I start wondering whether or not you like me. Is there spinach in my teeth? Those two seconds opened up a tiny, awkward gap in the social infrastructure, exposing the fear and insecurity that lies beneath.

Okay, that was a little bit too deep.

Phone conversations are almost always awkward for me, mostly because I can't seem to get the pauses and timing right. Apparently, I pause too long before saying something, probably because I'm thinking about what I'm about to say. The gaps in speech make it awkward.

I find that after I've been deeply absorbed in something introspective or solitary, my social timing is all screwed up. I need to stretch, socially speaking, before I'm ready to engage.

That I'm smart. 

I'm kidding, of course. It does mean that. Except replace "smart" with "a smart ass."

That I'm a pushover.

Introverts are not necessarily meek and easily manipulated, as I'm sure many extroverts have discovered to their chagrin. And I'm not just talking about passive-aggressive behavior or a stubborn refusal to go clubbing. Introverts can kick some serious butt, especially if you threaten their family, friends or pet projects (or pets, now that I think of it).

So there you have it. Introverts are people too.

New Year's Resolutions: The Who, What, Where, and When

1. Read more.

One Hundred Years of Solitude
The Wings of the Dove
Tropic of Cancer
The Grass is Singing
Anna Karenina
Art and Madness
Bleak House
The Rings of Saturn
Possession
TBA

In coming up with a reading list, I realized that I want to read "the classics" less than I thought I did. Maybe this is because there are relatively few "classics" (intellectual snobbery alert)  that I have neither read nor attempted to read. I have an especial distaste for books that I have--more than once--tried and failed to finish. (I'm looking at you, Slaughterhouse-Five and Huckleberry Finn.)

I find myself drawn more to memoirs, essay collections and literary theory.

The thing about a childhood spent reading is that it's extremely difficult to live up to as an adult, at least for me. I despair of being able to replicate the wonder and delight of reading certain books at a certain age. More than I want to read more great books, I want to re-experience reading the great books of my past. Am I doomed to an adulthood of literary nostalgia?

Of course, there is always re-reading. But there's something risky about re-reading a book you once adored. It might not stand up the second time around, which is why I've probably never reread a certain book I read at age eleven. I want to preserve the sacred memory of that first reading.

2. Write more.

Specifically, I'd like to be published in 10 places other than this blog--this can include web or print. One down, nine to go. (update 1/25: At least one of these must be in print)

3. Think less.

This is a difficult one. How does this even work? I suppose the only way to plan on thinking less is to plan on doing instead of thinking. So far, I've tried to put this into practice with mixed results.

A few days ago, I read:

"Try an experiment today: What would happen if you did NOT conceptualize everything before taking action?" (Understanding the Enneagram, 93)

What does that even mean? Do people really do that? 

I'm kind of kidding. 

I have recognized a tendency to read about doing things (like writing a screenplay) rather than actually doing them. That madness has got to stop. 

4. Participate. 

Anyone up for some beer pong?

5. Shoot more. 

One short film per month.

New Year's Resolutions

1. Read more.

In 2011, I rediscovered the audiobook, which is all well and good. However, I'd like to actually read a few books this year, eye to page, balls to leaf, etc.

2. Write more.

Maybe I should specify: write more for public consumption. I write a fair bit--I can't imagine NOT writing. It's part of who I am. A delightful cocktail of perfectionism and procrastination keeps me from writing for persons other than myself--I'm always looking for the perfect title, idea, opportunity.

So yeah. I'd like to write a feature length screenplay, and you can hold me to that. And more blogs.

3. Think less.

In the same category as thinking: talking about it, reading about it, writing about it. Write more, think less--sounds paradoxical, but there is certainly an element of writing that does not come from thinking but from putting pen to page. In other words, just do it. Less theory, more praxis.

4. Participate.

Sometimes, this means playing beer pong.

5. Shoot more.

Ideally, at least one project per month. Starting tomorrow.