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2 Cents on Broken Hearts

ten things i learned from my last broken heart

1) It's possible to be a little heartbroken for a long time.  Once, we were almost something, but only almost and only for a little while.  If my calculations are correct, I should therefore have felt only a little sad and only for a short time.  But that broken-hearted feeling continued ebbing and flowing in intensity long after I would have expected it to cease.  Ridiculous!  This mourning period is completely out of proportion to what actually occurred between us, I scolded myself.  But all I could really do is sigh and wait for time to pass:  there’s a reason why art is full of longing that lasts. 

6 Cents on Defining Sanity

Well, it’s nice to know that I am not the only weird person in this family- I also indulge in the same media over and over again.  Almost everyone knew freshman thru junior year in college that I fell asleep watching The Princes Bride every night.  Senior year, it was rare that people would walk into my apartment and Twilight would not be playing (because that is such a good movie).  But even all through childhood, I watched the same movies over and over again (Pocahontas, The Lion King, An American Tail, and pretty much all other children’s movies).  My father used to bellow at me about this obsessive habit of mine (even as recently as a couple years ago when I couldn’t stop watching Guys and Dolls- I love Marlon Brando).  

4 Cents on Defining Sanity?

I, too, tend to watch the same films over and over again and have often wondered why something with which I’m intimately familiar holds more interest for me than something new and potentially wonderful.  Wouldn't new and exciting always trump knows-every-line-by-heart?

2 Cents on Defining Sanity?

They, who are often liars, say that doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results is the definition of insanity. Hopefully, this only applies if you are expecting different results. So ... surely that can't apply to watching the same movies over and over again, or can it? I'm not really expecting different results, am I? And I'm not really insane because I watch the same movie over and over again, or could I be?

6 Cents on Speed Dating

Back in my day, speed dating was really speed dating. The girls parked their cars in the corner of the McDonald's parking lot and tried to get the guys who sped around the parking lot to stop. Big smiles, bright-eyes, and of course cute clothing accentuating all the right body parts sure did help with the effort. Now that was speed dating. But what has really changed from speed dating back in my day to speed dating now? Other than a change in venue ... nothing. Seems to me regardless of where, when, or how - in the boy-meets-girl effort it is all about the flirt.

4 Cents on Speed Dating

I had wanted to try speed dating ever since I saw Hitch, the Will Smith vehicle in which he helps the shy and socially awkward to be cooler and find love.  Speed dating looked fun and easy and breezy: the ladies sit while the men rotate (a plus for allowing me to be sedentary); you only have to talk for 10 minutes; then Will Smith swoops in and pushes your date out of the way because he likes you.

2 Cents on Speed Dating

I think it’s no secret that my sister and I have similar facial features.  In most lighting, we tend to look alike, but there is no lighting that would help us pass for twins (at least, we think).  And because we are sisters, we do things together.  One activity that we tried very recently was speed dating.  VanillaBean and I were wishfully thinking it would be right from the Sex and the City script; however this particular installment happened somewhere on the spectrum between the investigative NCIS episode (“Singled Out”) and the sophisticated-dramatic Hitch scene. (Think more like the awkward Monk moment in “Mr. Monk Goes to the Theatre.”)

6 Cents on Turning 29-and-a-half

I admit that turning 30 for some reason was very hard for me. I had two beautiful healthy children, a husband, a house, a great job - even a great car. But ... for some reason I was having a hard time with turning the big 3-0. I took advantage of all the department stores' free makeovers and spent 100s upon 100s of dollars buying all the products that were demonstrated by Estee Lauder, Clinique, Elizabeth Arden (and the majority of it still fills my drawers and makeup bag 20+ years later).

4 Cents on Turning 29-and-a-half

It’s sad that after a certain age, people stop looking forward to birthdays.  As young children birthdays are second only to Christmas.  Not only is a birthday the one day a year dedicated to each individual, but there are also presents involved.  Also, each year that gets tacked on is a declaration of “I made it” and one more step to being a grown up.  And then you turn ten.  Finally, the double digits; a definite accomplishment.  Eleven and twelve are slightly difficult years where no one takes you seriously but birthdays still have that childish magic.  Then thirteen comes along and now you are a teenager.  Fourteen and fifteen signify the beginning of high school and learner’s permit.  Sixteen allows you to drive; seventeen has the best of both worlds because you are still a kid but close enough to adulthood.  Eighteen makes you a real adult instead of a pretend one where you can buy cigarettes, lottery tickets and porn.  I would like to say for the record that I purchased none of these on my eighteenth birthday despite the incessant encouragement from my friends; I just wasn’t interested. 

2 Cents on Turning 29-and-a-half

“Pretty soon you're gonna be 30 and it ain't gonna matter anymore! So you better get that one done.” - My mother, on if I should post this now or later.

In April, I got an email from Rita’s Italian Ice congratulating me on my half-birthday and inviting me to celebrate with a small ice, any flavor, on them.

I love all things ice cream-y, so I was kind of excited about the free Italian ice. But I’m still sorting out my feelings toward the half-birthday. I knew April 27th was coming, of course, and even before the coupon arrived was well aware of the occasion it marked: my turning twenty-nine and a half.

6 Cents on The Bromance

I clearly don't get to the movies enough. I have never seen, nor frankly have any desire to see, the movies referenced in the preceding 4 cents. Let's just forget "bromance" and "chicks before dicks" and go back to pure unadulterated romance depicted in movies such as An Affair to Remember, Roman Holiday, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Dirty Dancing, and Pretty Woman -- just to name a few. You didn't see the main male characters running off with their male buddies for a couple of brewskies night after night leaving potential love interests behind. Nor did the chicks leave their love interest to down a couple of cosmopolitans. Back in the day, instead of being with just your buds and talking about sex -- you'd rather be with your love interest and possibly having sex. As much as I love my girlfriends, potentially having sex with my love interest was always more appealing to me than talking about it.

4 Cents on The Bromance

I have always tended to have more male friends and to associate with male cliques rather than female. I never gave this much thought, but if I had to explain it, I would say the reason is male friendships are (stereotypically) easier. I don’t have to worry about pettiness and drama, being misunderstood or judged, as when a part of majority female groups. But as I have gotten older (or because I too have enjoyed watching the mindless Judd Apatow movies), I have become more aware that guys need “guy time.” Several weeks ago my friends (“the Boys”) were planning an event and I was invited to attend. I declined so they could have “boy bonding” as I call it. They all proceeded to make fun of me because I always decline these invites to allow for boy bonding. Their argument was that they bond enough (because they are boys and don’t need as much time to bond as females—my interpretation; not theirs), they enjoy my company (who doesn’t), and they can bond with each other with me being present (seems true enough too). My argument was the Boys censor themselves around me even if it’s subconscious. They immediately denied it, reassured me that I would not be intruding, and attempted to not censor themselves. I know some of their over-the-top behavior and remarks were an exaggeration to prove their point, and they don’t habitually talk/act in that manner when not under female observation (at least, they say they don’t. I tend to believe them). Regardless, after a few days they went back to censoring themselves and I was happier.

2 Cents on The Bromance

For months, I couldn’t bear the word “bromance” without rolling my eyes in disgust.  Articles like this one were some of the offenders.  Why was I so put off by men having guy time with their buds?  

It took me some time to sort all this out, but I finally did - at the movies.

Male-oriented comedies have been everywhere in recent years.  And since I love movies, I’ve seen a lot of them.  There’s a question of life imitating art or art imitating life that I won’t delve into too much, but film is often a high-profile participant in cultural discourse.  And what we’re seeing in these stories are men, their problems, and their friendships, all couched in some variation of the of men-behaving-badly ethos: the bromance, once an innocent enough expression of male bonding and friendship, has gained such traction in our culture as to become a prescriber of and apologist for bad behavior.  This aspect of the bromance trend bothered me so much because these behaviors ultimately hurt women, though in recent films that hurt has rarely been shown, let alone examined. 

6 Cents on Driving Stick

I've never been much into cars.  That I drove a grandma-mobile in high school bothered me only slightly.  When I finally graduated to a cooler, younger car after college, I was certainly pleased, but I cared more about the fact that it was new and clean and had a CD player than I did about the make or model.  As for the engine, or anything else operating under the hood, I still couldn't tell you what any of that is about, even after 8 years and 100,000 miles together.

But, I'd always wanted to drive a stick shift.

4 Cents on Driving Stick

For my 1976 high school graduation, my daddy asked (and answered), "What kind of car do you want, a Chevette? Good.  That's what you are going to get." So... for a graduation gift, I received a pea green 4-speed manual transmission Chevette. I waited with bated breath for my parents to bring my new car home. Upon their arrival, and since I had no idea how to drive a stick, daddy put me in the passenger side and proceeded to demonstrate "how easy it is" to drive a manual transmission vehicle. My demo lasted around the neighborhood block.

2 Cents on Driving Stick

There are many reasons why I love my car. One, it fits my personality (at least, I think). It’s a red, two-door coupe, it’s big trunk allows me to carry a lot of cargo, after eleven years there have been few mechanical issues, and even though the car has had a few, minor incidents, as my grandfather says, “It takes a licking, and comes back kicking.” And because I keep a fairly clean car, I (usually) don’t mind driving and showing if off. But the best thing about my car: the look of surprise on people’s faces that it’s a stick shift.

Six Cents on Citizen Journalism

In undergrad it was always interesting which professors were pro and anti-Wikipedia. Some professors were certain that Wikipedia would lead to the end of academia. Some professors felt confident that the website was always one hundred percent factual and ended any debate. More commonly, professors would advise the use of Wikipedia only for “light reference” or brainstorming. These were my favorite professors: the ones who when asked a question, “How many times was Henry Clay Speaker of the House?” would answer with, “I don’t remember—look it up on Wikipedia.” They were my favorite because they were not naive enough to think we spent hours and hours looking for obscure sources in the library, but they also realized to ban Wikipedia from the classroom would also make us use it more.

Four Cents on Citizen Journalism

The truth is ... I probably haven't given "Citizen Journalism" much thought until I read this blog. And honestly -- I haven't given it much thought after reading this blog either. With that said, however, it sure seems like the tools available make it easy for everyone to contribute, so what's really the problem?

Two Cents on Citizen Journalism

I'm pretty excited about this blog.  

I admit I've created - and abandoned - several blogs in the past.  That's probably due to a number of factors: my extreme laziness; an inability to stick with anything even remotely demanding for which I'm not getting paid or being graded; a perfectionist's reluctance to put anything into the world that isn't, well, perfect; dread of public sharing that is too private and/or too confessional and a fear that anything I write might end up to be just that; and, perhaps most important, a growing ambivalence toward citizen journalism. 

Welcome to Six Cents!

This is how we're thinking it's going to work. Someone will post on any topic the heart desires - "Two cents on ..." Then, two posts will follow that should draw from, reflect on, or be informed by the original post.

No other rules exist, really: just three posts, more or less related, for a total of "six cents."

Once we have our six cents, the cycle starts again with someone's two cents on a new topic.

There's no reason why we're limiting it to three posts except three people are originating the blog.

Plus we think we're being pretty clever with the whole six cents / sixth sense pun. Get it?