3 Months
I’ve had a job for three months. It’s a great job. It pays well, I’m not micromanaged, I’ve learned a bunch of new programs; I can show up at 10 or work through lunch and if the roads are seriously covered in snow I can […]
A field guide to growing up without growing apart
I’ve had a job for three months. It’s a great job. It pays well, I’m not micromanaged, I’ve learned a bunch of new programs; I can show up at 10 or work through lunch and if the roads are seriously covered in snow I can […]
Wow. Where to start… The last week has been insanely hard on me. My feet are covered in blisters, I can barely keep my eyes open, and there were moments where I felt so inconsequential it was heart breaking. But this week was also incredible; […]
My name is Sleeping Booty and I’m a crusher.
A few days ago I read a psychology study circulating the internet that claimed a crush lasting over 4 months crosses over into the territory of love. While I’m not sure I agree, it still got me thinking; what is a crush? And how close can it come to love? Continuing with my browsing I found some think crushes don’t exist at all, instead opting to call the attraction infatuation or obsession. Another website claims crushes hold the key to our subconscious, arguing that the qualities we crush on are the ones that we crave in ourselves. For the unwanted crush, there are endless support groups for crushing outside your marriage or unrequited teenage love and I even found an entire forum site dedicated to helping people get over their crushes. So what does all this mean? Are crushes good for us? Our resident Latin expert, Little Merskank, could tell you that the word infatuated is thought to come from fatuus, meaning foolish, and if obsession is only a stone throw from addiction maybe words don’t lie, maybe crushes are just that, foolish addictions.
Luckily, dear readers, if anyone knows a thing or two about crushing, it’s yours truly(or Tswift).
Maybe it’s because I have a wonderful imagination or maybe it’s because I’ve refused to grow up (for a few hours the other day I seriously thought I was 17 again), but whatever the reason the fact remains, I’m a crusher. The shy kid in the back of the class, the outgoing older guy dancing along to his music on the bus, the guy with the absent girlfriend-there is just something about a crush that makes me feel alive. When it comes to ‘real’ relationships I’ll be the first to say I’m not an expert, but in the case of the crush I’m a full blown authority.
So for your reading pleasure (and in a meager attempt to decipher some greater truth about myself) (and because I like lists), I give you my Catalog. Here is every person (let me know if I’ve left anyone out) I’ve had a significant and life affirming crush on, ever. Along with the year the crush began, duration and a few choice details, I’ve even provided their real names. If you so wish to use your magic internet powers to find these humans and let them in on my confession have at it, at this point I’m so deep with my crush on Spiderman that no one else matters (if you happen to know Emma or Andrew, let them know I’m totally down for some polyamory.) You can’t know me until you know who I love right? Let’s see what we discover.
Honorable Mentions
So there you have it. My pride. My shame. My glory. I’ve crushed a total of 594 months (50 years) on 38 real crushes, averaging 16 months per crush. Counting the 9 famous and 3 imaginary, my count comes to an even 50 and I’m sure there’s a boatload I’ve forgotten. It seems I like quiet guys, who need to be saved from their terrible relationships as long as there is an inevitable ending waiting in the wings. The forbidden is also a common motif as well as the it’s so wrong it’s right, and when it comes to your relatives, it is probably best to keep them from me.
Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head, I’ve had every type of crush in the book. And while there are many I cringe to look back on, I can’t think of one I want to live without. Crushing has taught me what I like, who I want to be; I’ve learned how to communicate and focus on what’s important; I’ve even learned how to let go of something I care about. And while I can’t deny that these one sided relationships aren’t the ideal, and that maybe, in the greater scheme of things I’m missing something, I still know that a crush can be as life altering as any reciprocated relationship.
So as for a nice wrap up to the end of this post, I’m not quite sure what to tell you. I know that these crushes weren’t foolish. Many of them were real connections between two people who weren’t right for each other in important ways but fit perfectly in others. I know that certain qualities are attractive to me, but they aren’t requirements. And I know that as painful as it was to let these people go, I’ll stand by them forever. They are my crushes, and you know what, I did love them.
It’s that time of year again folks (no I’m not talking about bringing out the NSYNC Christmas CD. That happened a month ago of course), it’s the time of year when we make our lists and check them twice. We write lists of presents, lists […]
I’m just going to come right out and say it. I was my parents’ DD last night. Yup, you read that right, DD as in Designated Driver (Sober Soldier, Chaste Chauffeur, Timid Transporter, Glum Guide, Boring Betsy… did I just get carried away?) I, a […]
Okay, so don’t freak out. I know all of you are thinking: ‘what? I thought this was a fun blog and now Merskank is going all preachy on us…’ But, please, hang with me for a second.
So, yeah ‘modesty’ is a slightly loaded word—I feel like it is more often used in the negative rather than in the positive: girls in particular are often described as immodest while few are ever acknowledged for having modesty. But it is a term I have been reconsidering a little lately.
Now, when I was in high school I was very ‘modest’. I never liked to wear shorts and would never, ever have worn a vee-neck of any sort. Yet although this behaviour was ‘modest’ I don’t think it was particularly admirable; I think it really was stemming from fear and lack of confidence in my self—I didn’t want people looking at my legs because I was worried that they would think they looked funny, or fat, or ugly, and if I wore a lower-cut shirt I didn’t want them thinking I was a slut, or ‘trying too hard’. Basically, I didn’t feel good in my own skin.
Luckily, since then, my confidence has risen and I have gradually grown less modest: shorts are now okay, skirts of varying lengths are a go, and sometimes I even wear tank tops. Generally, I think this change is a good one, but in the past few weeks modesty has come back into the forefront of my thoughts. Well, my dressing choices have never been wild—to my knowledge no one has ever branded me with the word ‘immodest’—but I think the intent and heart of your clothing choices always matters more anyway. I am no longer motivated by fear like I was in high school, but lately I keep assessing my wardrobe and thinking: maybe my shirts shouldn’t be tight, maybe the skirt doesn’t need to be short.
I’ve realized that modesty in my life now means something totally different than what it meant to me in high school. It used to be that I was worried about what people thought but now my motivation is often more personal. Maybe this sounds a little weird to people, but it relates to how I have been thinking about the body and soul lately. I think that our body is more closely tied to our soul than people realize—in Old English poetry the body is called the modsefa (the place of the soul) or feorh-hus (the spirit-house), and in the Bible we get the image of the body as a temple to the Lord. Both of these images clash with the externally-oriented vision of the body that is pushed in popular culture, one where philosophically you are supposed to judge by ‘intent’ and ‘people’s hearts’ but paradoxically body and image still receive so much attention.
When you first meet someone you don’t tell them your deepest thoughts, your sacred secrets—you wait, get to know them, and then maybe you tell them. For me recently, modesty has become more like this. Why would I want some person I don’t know (and probably can’t trust) staring at my breasts or at my butt? Yet somehow although most of us wait to trust someone with our internal selves, we are happy to display our bodies. I don’t think those things are as different as we think they are. Either way you are exposing yourself to others before you know enough to trust them. And there are always consequences: when you give someone information about yourself it is like you are giving a little piece of your self that you can’t really take back. For me, recently, I have been thinking that I need to give my body a little more of the respect I give my soul and think twice before I make it a public spectacle.
So, yeah, basically I am not trying to tell anyone else how to live their life. Modesty means different things for different people and we should be confident loving our bodies and loving ourselves. I just wanted to share my ponderings and say that maybe next time you dress a particular way, you should ask yourself why. May the answer provide you interesting avenues for thought.
I never look at who I sit next to on the bus. Some people ask for permission to sit, some people evaluate their options before settling on the lessor evil, some people even play musical chairs hopping from seat to seat as better options open […]
Greetings Blogosphere! How goes it?! I’m Sleeping Booty and I’ll be your author today(and every 2nd Thursday from here on out) and I can barely contain how excited I am to get rolling on this project. It’s been a long year since graduation, and I’m […]