In which we shall see: loitering, iPhones, theatre-types hanging out of windows, a dare (couched as a request), two boys and a park bench, Paris, a bad hair cut, and a call to Security. In other words: a recipe for trouble.
* * * * *
I'm so excited to have enough of a story to use this format again! (Mal, Sara - see?!? I don't even have to TRY. This stuff just FINDS ME.)
So, after finishing a morning rehearsal for a devised production of Antigone I'm helping on, I left the school and stopped to chat with a friend about another project. My phone rings - I miss the call, and it rings again. Picking up, I find a course-mate on the line and he tells me to look up, as he's calling from a room (and out a window) on the third floor (second if you're British) of the building. He asks:
"Do you see those two guys sitting on the bench over there?" I crane my head. "Could you go over and be really obnoxious to them?"
"..."
"I'm sorry, what?" I say.
"They're actors and they're wearing a microphone, and I want you to go over and strike up a conversation. Go bug them."
At this point, most normal people would have said "No" or faked cellular interference, hung up, and run away. I have a little problem, though - when someone dares me to do something my brain tends to shut down and I go for it without really looking into other options (like, "No"). ((Fortunately, I don't have friends that will dare me to do really dangerous or illegal kinds of things)) (((And no, it doesn't work over email. It's all tone-of-voice))). This wasn't quite a dare, but it was a very confident I -bet-she'll-do-it request, so I answered, stalling, "Anything in particular this conversation should be about?" (*retrospective sigh*)
"No, you just fancy them or something - go on, and don't leave them alone!"
So I went.
In the little 'square' in front of my school is a triangle of grass and a few trees, with a couple of benches along the sidewalks (er, footpaths). One of the benches was occupied by two nicely-dressed guys having what looked to be an animated conversation. I headed towards the triangle like I was making for an unoccupied bench, but then did a little double-take as if I had just noticed them and casually headed towards them instead. I ignored their conversation and dumped my backpack on the end of the bench, and then began frantically rummaging for my phone. Finding it, I pretended to make a call, and when the 'callee' didn't pick up soon enough (mainly because I hung up before putting the phone to my ear) I turned to the guys and asked if they knew the area well. Were they acting students, by any chance? I could tell because they were "soooo good-looking."
About this time I noticed that they were really, really cute.
They were polite, and tried to be accommodating - Amazing Blue-Green Eyes wondered if he could help, and Brown Curly-Hair looked concerned. I told them I was trying to get a hold of someone in a rehearsal, and did they have access to the school, by any chance? (I have no idea where this started coming from. Open your mouth, the words fall out.) They asked if I was a student, and I said yes, but I'd forgotten my ID - ABGE started to direct me to the reception desk, since they could buzz me in. I went for it.
"No - well, you see," I 'acted' flustered (soooo cute), "there's this guy." ABGE looked intrigued, BCH looked vaguely suspicious. "I just really need to get in touch with him, and I was hoping one of you could help me, because... I can't really go through reception."
"But - you're a student," said BCH. "You're wearing the jacket." (I had on my Central hoodie.)
"Right - but no, I'm not actually a student. I'm just wearing it, you know, so they'll let me in." I think ABGE was starting to enjoy himself.
"Well, what's his name? Maybe we know him." Name? Crap.
"Uh - Mike. Hammersmith."
"So you're not a student and you don't really know this guy - what, you're his stalker?" BCH called it.
('Chagrined' face) "Oh, now, 'stalker' is such a harsh word."
There followed a conversation about how I knew Mike and I were meant to be together (my name was 'Sally', by the way) and it was just awful because I expected people at a theatre school to better understand passion and true love, even if you've only spoken to someone once or twice. That's why I couldn't go to Reception - they'd already thrown me out once before for trying to get into the school ("...even though I've come all this way!"). They asked where I'd come from, and I told them the States, of course, by way of Paris... where I had gone when I'd been chasing some other guy. Oops. By now, I'm pretty sure ABGE knew something was up, since he started taking my side and preaching to BCH about love-at-first-sight. (I could see the microphone wire attached to his collar and really had to concentrate to keep my eyes away from it.) Finally, my phone rang and, answering, I gushed "I gave him my number! I'm sure it's him!" - my course-mate told me that Mike couldn't come to the phone, but I could wrap it up and send the actors in.
Laughing, I told the two guys I had accosted that they were now free to go back in to rehearsal, and they busted up. We hugged, exchanged real names, I mentioned that the people at the Reception desk actually really liked me, and I headed home for lunch.
And, apropos of nothing, it started to hail.
* * * * *
Seriously, how do these things happen to me? I'm not embarrassed about it particularly, but every few minutes I get a wave of "Did I really just DO that? OY." Also, about halfway through the conversation, while staring into ABGE's gorgeous eyes and waxing eloquent over how "sometimes you meet someone's eyes and you just KNOW you've known them before" it occurred to me that I had trimmed my own bangs (er, fringe) the other day, and they were really just a little too short to be attractive. (Two weeks, they'll be fine.) Hot guy there, bad haircut here, people listening in on a wire three floors away... Welcome to my life!
May 31, 2011
May 29, 2011
If I Post It, Will They Come?
Five Things You Should Know Before Kissing Anyone
A life coach has kissing tips so simple they're brilliant. Get ready to pucker up!
[Editor's note: Maura Kelly writes the relationships blogA Year of Living Flirtatiously, for MarieClaire.com. This is an excerpt from that blog.]
In Emerson's rousing long essay, Self-Reliance — a call to intellectual independence and rigor — he says, "In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts: They come back to us with a certain alienated majesty."
One of the points Emerson is trying to make is this: The literature and art that we most appreciate is that which most accurately or powerfully reflects some basic human truths. It's not that the truths themselves are necessarily "deep." A genius is a genius not because his feelings or experiences are so unusual, or even so outstandingly powerful, but rather because he is able to recognize them as universal and meaningful, and to announce them, rather than pushing them aside as shameful or weird or too obvious — or allowing them to get drowned out by the flood of distractions and noise that often is life.
This is all a very long way of introducing a list of the five basic things you should know about a person before you kiss them that I recently came across in an email that was forwarded to me. It was written by life coach Laurie Gerber, and her tips are so simple and obvious and exactly right that they're borderline genius. Because our daily lives have gotten so complicated — our dating lives, in particular — I think these are exactly the kinds of tips we need to hear. Or, at least, I do.
Laurie says: "You cannot kiss anyone until you have first established they are worth your time."
How do you do that? Easy. Simply be sure that you know that:
1. They are looking for a serious relationship.
(But if you're not either ... well, then, you don't have to be worried about who you are kissing. Kiss whomever the heck you want.)
You should also feel interested in a serious relationship with the person in question. Which means you should know that:
2. You are impressed with what they are doing with their life.
3. You respect them.
4. You sense that they are comfortable with themselves.
5. You really want to kiss them.
Simple, right? But also kinda brilliant.
Now, maybe you're saying, "Eh, Maura, it's just a kiss — what's the big deal?" Well, I suppose the biggest thing is that having simple standards like these is one way to help boost your self-esteem. If you're kissing every Tom, Dick and Harry who crosses your path — and often getting rejected by them — that might not feel so good. Simply knowing that a person has to meet certain qualifications before getting to the next level with you will leave you feeling empowered. Like you have standards. Because you do!
One of the points Emerson is trying to make is this: The literature and art that we most appreciate is that which most accurately or powerfully reflects some basic human truths. It's not that the truths themselves are necessarily "deep." A genius is a genius not because his feelings or experiences are so unusual, or even so outstandingly powerful, but rather because he is able to recognize them as universal and meaningful, and to announce them, rather than pushing them aside as shameful or weird or too obvious — or allowing them to get drowned out by the flood of distractions and noise that often is life.
This is all a very long way of introducing a list of the five basic things you should know about a person before you kiss them that I recently came across in an email that was forwarded to me. It was written by life coach Laurie Gerber, and her tips are so simple and obvious and exactly right that they're borderline genius. Because our daily lives have gotten so complicated — our dating lives, in particular — I think these are exactly the kinds of tips we need to hear. Or, at least, I do.
Laurie says: "You cannot kiss anyone until you have first established they are worth your time."
How do you do that? Easy. Simply be sure that you know that:
1. They are looking for a serious relationship.
(But if you're not either ... well, then, you don't have to be worried about who you are kissing. Kiss whomever the heck you want.)
You should also feel interested in a serious relationship with the person in question. Which means you should know that:
2. You are impressed with what they are doing with their life.
3. You respect them.
4. You sense that they are comfortable with themselves.
5. You really want to kiss them.
Simple, right? But also kinda brilliant.
Now, maybe you're saying, "Eh, Maura, it's just a kiss — what's the big deal?" Well, I suppose the biggest thing is that having simple standards like these is one way to help boost your self-esteem. If you're kissing every Tom, Dick and Harry who crosses your path — and often getting rejected by them — that might not feel so good. Simply knowing that a person has to meet certain qualifications before getting to the next level with you will leave you feeling empowered. Like you have standards. Because you do!
In fact, I'd go as far as to say you should know all of these five things before you go on a second date.
- From MSN Lifestyle - I like it.
May 22, 2011
Can't We All Just Get Along (You Meatheads)?
Great article in the Deseret News today on civility in public discourse - the gist is that a few years ago a prominent conservative evangelical started to be disturbed over the way Mormons were treated during the 2008 presidential elections, particularly by evangelicals. (Just pause for a moment and take that in - I KNOW.) He decided to draw attention to the fact that most Americans actually want and believe in appropriate behavior in political settings, and came up with the Civility Pledge:
I would sign it. I'll think about it, remember it, and do my best to live by it. Sadly, when this man sent it out to members of Congress and governors only three people actually signed and returned it. THREE. Out of 585 requests that people be civil in their public and political discourse, three agreed to do it.
My state representatives were not on that list.
How embarrassing.
I think it's time to write a letter - a polite, intelligent, firm, calm, respectful letter to let my elected officials know that I expect better of them.
Coming into the beginning of campaign season, I think it's also time that this be one of the first questions asked in every discussion: "What's your stance on civility? What do you plan to do about it?"
Once that's been established, we'll actually be able to talk productively about everything else. Wouldn't that be a nice change.
* I will be civil in my public discourse and behavior.
* I will be respectful of others whether or not I agree with them.
* I will stand against incivility when I see it.
I would sign it. I'll think about it, remember it, and do my best to live by it. Sadly, when this man sent it out to members of Congress and governors only three people actually signed and returned it. THREE. Out of 585 requests that people be civil in their public and political discourse, three agreed to do it.
My state representatives were not on that list.
How embarrassing.
I think it's time to write a letter - a polite, intelligent, firm, calm, respectful letter to let my elected officials know that I expect better of them.
Coming into the beginning of campaign season, I think it's also time that this be one of the first questions asked in every discussion: "What's your stance on civility? What do you plan to do about it?"
Once that's been established, we'll actually be able to talk productively about everything else. Wouldn't that be a nice change.
May 21, 2011
Celebrity Stand-by
Reason #48 Why I Don't Understand the English*:
The week before last, Doctor Who was on (on Saturday! Whaaa?) at 6:15. (Weird, but OK.)
Last week, Doctor Who was on at 6:30.
This week, Doctor Who will be broadcast at 6:45.
Now, I get that Brits don't interject nearly as many commercials. so you generally don't get a full hour of any given TV show. That leads to 10-12-minute "fillers", as represented in the past by, say, "Doctor Who Confidential" that, as far as I could tell, was broadcast just after the episode to round it out to an hour. All right. So WHY CAN'T THEY BUILD A CONSISTENT TV SCHEDULE? What in the world could possibly be the rationale behind bouncing a show all over the place? (Sometimes you'll find Doctor Who being broadcast on Fridays, sometimes Mondays. Who knows? IT ALL MAKES NO SENSE.) Are the TV stations (I'm looking at you, BBC) trying to a) get people to stay and watch more TV by changing up the times unexpectedly, so that they always have to be at home on their couches so they don't miss their shows, b) stimulate the population's social lives by juggling the programming schedule so that people can arrange other activities at different times and still not miss their favorites, or c) thumb their noses at the public and act out because they're so bitter that the Interwebs and DVR's are robbing them of any real control of their audience's viewing practices?
WON'T SOMEONE STOP THE MADNESS?!? *Ahem.*
* * * * *
Dear Networks:
Please set a schedule and stick to it for, like, two weeks. Just to see if it works. And think about how much less time you could be spending on your "creative programming" if you already knew when shows were going to be happening the following week! You could catch a (live) cricket match! Or go celebrity-stalk the Beckhams! Or have an extra 4 or 5 dozen cups of tea! You should try it.
Thanks,
Me
* * * * *
Speaking of celebrity stalking, today I was at a relatively prominent London theatre to see one of my course-mates in a performance that was part of an experimental-theatre festival, and after picking up our tickets and moving outside another course-mate asked if the girl in line behind us, the tall one, was the chick from Doctor Who. Y'know, the red-haired one? Honestly,I thought I was way too old and blasé to be impressed by the appearance of, at best, a minor celebrity - and yet, I immediately went giddy and oh-so-casually strolled back into the building to figure out if it was really her.
And IT WAS. It was really KAREN GILLAN FROM DOCTOR WHO standing at the desk with all her hair tucked up in a hat (but I totally recognized her profile!), tall and skinny and super-pretty and I sound like I have a girl-crush, don't I? I went back out to confirm to my group that it was really her and I didn't say "Hi" or ask for a picture or anything and I really want to go back in and talk to her but that would be obnoxious and intrusive and I can't believe I was standing 6 feet away and by the time I decided that I would ask for a photo or an autograph but everybody would have to come in with me she was gone.
It's probably just as well - it might have taken me a few minutes to convince her I was a harmless American student, and not a crazy American tourist. I try to contain it, but sometimes the crazy gets away from me. (True story: My fangirly squee to my course-mates was "I wish I had my 'Doctor Who Experience' program with me so that she could sign it!" To their credit, the eye-rolling was pretty minimal.)
My first near-brush with (OK, regular) celebrity! About time, London! (Now where, pray tell, is Richard Armitage? He can't be spending ALL his time in New Zealand!)
* Just over a week ago we were informed that not all British people define themselves as "British"; most don't, in fact. They are Scottish, or Welsh, or ENGLISH, thankyouverymuch. (Irish are always and completely Irish. Period.)
The week before last, Doctor Who was on (on Saturday! Whaaa?) at 6:15. (Weird, but OK.)
Last week, Doctor Who was on at 6:30.
This week, Doctor Who will be broadcast at 6:45.
Now, I get that Brits don't interject nearly as many commercials. so you generally don't get a full hour of any given TV show. That leads to 10-12-minute "fillers", as represented in the past by, say, "Doctor Who Confidential" that, as far as I could tell, was broadcast just after the episode to round it out to an hour. All right. So WHY CAN'T THEY BUILD A CONSISTENT TV SCHEDULE? What in the world could possibly be the rationale behind bouncing a show all over the place? (Sometimes you'll find Doctor Who being broadcast on Fridays, sometimes Mondays. Who knows? IT ALL MAKES NO SENSE.) Are the TV stations (I'm looking at you, BBC) trying to a) get people to stay and watch more TV by changing up the times unexpectedly, so that they always have to be at home on their couches so they don't miss their shows, b) stimulate the population's social lives by juggling the programming schedule so that people can arrange other activities at different times and still not miss their favorites, or c) thumb their noses at the public and act out because they're so bitter that the Interwebs and DVR's are robbing them of any real control of their audience's viewing practices?
WON'T SOMEONE STOP THE MADNESS?!? *Ahem.*
* * * * *
Dear Networks:
Please set a schedule and stick to it for, like, two weeks. Just to see if it works. And think about how much less time you could be spending on your "creative programming" if you already knew when shows were going to be happening the following week! You could catch a (live) cricket match! Or go celebrity-stalk the Beckhams! Or have an extra 4 or 5 dozen cups of tea! You should try it.
Thanks,
Me
* * * * *
Speaking of celebrity stalking, today I was at a relatively prominent London theatre to see one of my course-mates in a performance that was part of an experimental-theatre festival, and after picking up our tickets and moving outside another course-mate asked if the girl in line behind us, the tall one, was the chick from Doctor Who. Y'know, the red-haired one? Honestly,I thought I was way too old and blasé to be impressed by the appearance of, at best, a minor celebrity - and yet, I immediately went giddy and oh-so-casually strolled back into the building to figure out if it was really her.
 |
| I could totally be friends with that girl - I, too, have the "why is the weird kid staring at me?" look down pat! |
It's probably just as well - it might have taken me a few minutes to convince her I was a harmless American student, and not a crazy American tourist. I try to contain it, but sometimes the crazy gets away from me. (True story: My fangirly squee to my course-mates was "I wish I had my 'Doctor Who Experience' program with me so that she could sign it!" To their credit, the eye-rolling was pretty minimal.)
My first near-brush with (OK, regular) celebrity! About time, London! (Now where, pray tell, is Richard Armitage? He can't be spending ALL his time in New Zealand!)
* Just over a week ago we were informed that not all British people define themselves as "British"; most don't, in fact. They are Scottish, or Welsh, or ENGLISH, thankyouverymuch. (Irish are always and completely Irish. Period.)
May 20, 2011
Brief, and Positive - Ideal?
I generally enjoy Scott Adams' blogs - he always has something interesting to say. In the category of "Self- and Society-Help" I present:
Slowing the Decline in Your Personal Appeal
We humans start our lives at the peak of your popularity. Everyone loves babies. The trouble starts when we learn to speak. Talking is the process by which we transform from adorable to insufferable. The more we talk, the less appealing we become.
No topic is safe. If things are going well for you, and you make the mistake of talking about it, others will think you're a self-absorbed bragger. If things are going poorly for you, and you talk about it, others will think you're a gloomy downer. If you talk about other people, you're a gossip. If you freely offer your opinion on the pros and cons of things, you'll be seen as too critical or too opinionated.
If you talk about politics, the people who disagree with you will see you as either an immoral ass hat or a superstitious simpleton. The people who share your viewpoint will see you as a bore because you're stating the obvious and probably taking too long to do it.
The old saying is that it's better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt. It's unambiguously true that the more you talk, the higher your odds of saying something that is memorably stupid, cruel, selfish, or evil.
Telling amusing stories is okay in small doses. But storytelling is a rare skill. And the people who know you well have heard all of your best stories. Every story you tell will lower your average.
One situation in which talking works well is when two analytical or academic people share opinions and information on topics of common interest. That can be stimulating, especially if one or both people has a sense of humor. But if those two people spend much time together, they start running out of fresh topics. The more they talk, the less interesting they become to each other.
The rules of conversation are a bit different for people who don't know each other well or don't see each other often. In those cases, a bit of extra chatter is useful to keep the awkwardness at bay. But as you spend more time with an individual, every word you utter makes you less desirable.
Lately I have been wondering if there's an antidote for the social decay caused by talking. One fix is to spend more time with strangers. But that would be exhausting and hollow.
You could try doing more listening and less talking. People like that. But listening with empathy has the perverse effect of rewarding the talker for sharing his woes. That's a problem because if you cause someone to focus on his own misfortune, you make things worse for him. In time, the talker will associate you with all of his most unpleasant thoughts because that's the connection you keep reinforcing.
My best solution for the scourge of talking is this: Be brief and say something positive.
Brevity will slow the inevitable decline in your popularity caused by talking. And saying something positive as often as possible will be a mood booster to whoever is in the room with you. Humans are followers, and if you set a positive tone, it rubs off.
You'll never regain the personal appeal you enjoyed as a baby. But if you say nice things, and don't say much, you might become relatively less unappealing than the people around you. And that's not nothing.
* * * * *
Brief? Maybe. Positive? Sorta -yes? Either way, he makes a very good point. (Go try it!)
Slowing the Decline in Your Personal Appeal
We humans start our lives at the peak of your popularity. Everyone loves babies. The trouble starts when we learn to speak. Talking is the process by which we transform from adorable to insufferable. The more we talk, the less appealing we become.
No topic is safe. If things are going well for you, and you make the mistake of talking about it, others will think you're a self-absorbed bragger. If things are going poorly for you, and you talk about it, others will think you're a gloomy downer. If you talk about other people, you're a gossip. If you freely offer your opinion on the pros and cons of things, you'll be seen as too critical or too opinionated.
If you talk about politics, the people who disagree with you will see you as either an immoral ass hat or a superstitious simpleton. The people who share your viewpoint will see you as a bore because you're stating the obvious and probably taking too long to do it.
The old saying is that it's better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt. It's unambiguously true that the more you talk, the higher your odds of saying something that is memorably stupid, cruel, selfish, or evil.
Telling amusing stories is okay in small doses. But storytelling is a rare skill. And the people who know you well have heard all of your best stories. Every story you tell will lower your average.
One situation in which talking works well is when two analytical or academic people share opinions and information on topics of common interest. That can be stimulating, especially if one or both people has a sense of humor. But if those two people spend much time together, they start running out of fresh topics. The more they talk, the less interesting they become to each other.
The rules of conversation are a bit different for people who don't know each other well or don't see each other often. In those cases, a bit of extra chatter is useful to keep the awkwardness at bay. But as you spend more time with an individual, every word you utter makes you less desirable.
Lately I have been wondering if there's an antidote for the social decay caused by talking. One fix is to spend more time with strangers. But that would be exhausting and hollow.
You could try doing more listening and less talking. People like that. But listening with empathy has the perverse effect of rewarding the talker for sharing his woes. That's a problem because if you cause someone to focus on his own misfortune, you make things worse for him. In time, the talker will associate you with all of his most unpleasant thoughts because that's the connection you keep reinforcing.
My best solution for the scourge of talking is this: Be brief and say something positive.
Brevity will slow the inevitable decline in your popularity caused by talking. And saying something positive as often as possible will be a mood booster to whoever is in the room with you. Humans are followers, and if you set a positive tone, it rubs off.
You'll never regain the personal appeal you enjoyed as a baby. But if you say nice things, and don't say much, you might become relatively less unappealing than the people around you. And that's not nothing.
* * * * *
Brief? Maybe. Positive? Sorta -yes? Either way, he makes a very good point. (Go try it!)
May 17, 2011
Read 'The Graveyard Book'*
Neil Gaiman's advice to any aspiring writer:
- from the behind-the-scenes 'Neil Gaiman on Writing for the Doctor' video, BBC
* * * * *
This could mean you'll be seeing (a lot) more random blog posts from me. Just FYI.
* Seriously, it's amazing. And kind of what you'd think, only not really at all. (Just look at those reviews!)
"Write.
Don't think about writing, don't plan to write, don't hope to write.
Just write."
- from the behind-the-scenes 'Neil Gaiman on Writing for the Doctor' video, BBC
* * * * *
This could mean you'll be seeing (a lot) more random blog posts from me. Just FYI.
* Seriously, it's amazing. And kind of what you'd think, only not really at all. (Just look at those reviews!)
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