Sunday, May 8, 2011

How Obama Got Osama, and Why Romantic Comedies/Dramas are Bad for Me.

The end of the school year is coming to a swift close. Although there is a lot of excitement coming from . . . well, everyone at school . . . I'm again experiencing the anxiety of the unknown. I'm applying for several jobs that exemplify my skills and experience as an educator, but as with everyone, this be tough times and I've been turned down from a couple of tutoring centers.

Cause for rejoice comes in the next three weeks: a Disneyland/Universal Studios road trip with the graduating senior class, attending "Education Day" in the South Bay, and, of course, Commencement. The class of 2011 were a bunch of great young people and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss 'em. However, I've got some great ideas for the incoming Freshmen class that I'll be advising come August.

How Obama Got Osama
This is brief: I'm watching President Obama being interviewed on 60 Minutes, a show that was prominent in my childhood, if only for the time spent making fun of Andy Rooney and his ridiculous, disconnected, irrelevant, rants.

I didn't vote for Obama -- but I also didn't vote for who you think I did, the "other guy." (Hint: She's not a dude.) At the time I had lost a lot of "trust" (if that's even the right word) in mainstream politics and still very much believe in the power of grassroots movements. It's very obvious that as I experience more and gain more knowledge of the political left, right, and radical, the areas that I believed were black & white (like international relations) are now varying shades of gray. Looking critically at Obama as a president, I think he bit off more than he could chew by implanting the ideas of universal health care and shutting down Guantanamo Bay. Don't get me started on the budget, i.e. military spending and education. President Obama is not the sole person to blame, and I'm not trying to blame him for what got done or didn't get done so far in his first term. I just think he conveyed ideas that he, working with his administration, couldn't reasonably conceive in a short four years.

With regards to the killing of Osama bin Laden, my frustrations are geared more towards the mass public -- anyone who "celebrates" another's death excessively (partying/drinking/wearing stupid t-shirts, etc). I have a lot of respect for the sincerity and seriousness with which President Obama has conveyed during this whole ordeal. Everything he's said has been very logical, matter-of-fact, and rational no matter how you vote.

Mr. Obama, I didn't vote for you, and I still won't claim ownership by referring to you as "my president," but you can be a pretty cool dude. Thanks for being an intellectual and keeping a rational head about a situation that could have been dealt with in a more juvenile fashion.

Why Romantic Comedies/Dramas are Bad for Me
It has been consistent that, whenever a TV show or movie comes along that's received well and has a romantically-driven plot line with an exceptionally good-looking cast, I experience emotional turmoil.

I have no clue how long this has been going on, but the first time I realized it was when I became OBSESSED with the show Grey's Anatomy. I saw the pilot episode and was immediately hooked. Sexy people can be doctors, too! It was exciting. I downloaded episodes so I could get caught up (TV was airing Season 3, I believe). I'd watch an episode a night, sometimes two on the weekend. Before long I realized that I was bringing drama into the relationship and my co-habitant was receiving the worst of my nagging and imaginary reasons for jealousy and deceit.  
Didn't wash the dishes? Came home late?? And, what, you didn't tell me I look sexy today?!??

I really became a wreck and immediately downsized my intake of GA to a couple of episodes a week. The less I saw, the more realistic I became about things that were said and done (or not said and not done) in the relationship. Eventually, I gave up on it altogether because there were too many new characters. Seriously, you miss one season you might as well have died. *sigh*

Earlier today I watched the 90's romantic comedy Singles. I love lazy weekends, and I love lazier Sunday mornings even more, and I even loved the grunge soundtrack the movie brought with it, but -- !

But there were some pieces of monologue/dialogue in the movie that threw me off and jump-started the same paranoia and thought process. One character's monologue involved how long to wait before calling her dude:

"If I call him now, I'll come across as desperate. I'll call in an hour. If I call in an hour it'll seem like I'm busy and it won't be as bad. . . I don't want to be desperate."

In my brain began the slippery slope of relationship dramas -- dear gawd, I've created a monster.

It's true: we DON'T want to look like the "desperate" ones (who does?). Who's supposed to call, anyway? The dude's supposed to call, or the chick? What happens with same-sex couples? Or couples without any identified sex or gender fluidity? My mom had ingrained in me from a young age that as the female in the relationship, you DON'T call the dude, for the very reason of not being desperate. At the time I felt like there was no reasoning with this kind of logic, but lo and behold, in the years I dated in college I found out quickly that dudes seemed to disappear if I called them "too much," or at all. D-:

After how long does it become OK for either partner/companion/boyfriend/girlfriend to call? Who the hell made these rules, anyway? So many unanswered questions . . . In the end it's just important to know that you're dedicated to one another. But what if you scare the other person off by your desperation?!?? :-0

I think we've gotten ourselves stuck in a time-space-gender-continuum vortex, people. :-/

1 comment:

  1. sounds desperate posting this on mothers day...