I’m Just Saying “Hi” to Your Answering Bell

This blog is in response to my old high school chum Candace’s “Top Ten Tuesday” blog of questions.  I have been a sucker for those little internet surveys since back when people knew what “LOL” meant and actually used it accordingly.  So, it did not take much persuasion to get me to answer these ten probing questions.

And, if anyone is actually reading this, feel free to join in the fun and answer the questions in the comments here or on Candace’s blog, or even on your own blog.  Just send me a link so I can read all about it.

1. What would you call yourself if you could choose your own name?

When I was little, I wanted a name with a “Q” in it.  Like “Jacqueline.”  I’m over that now.  Amanda is a good name.  It means “worthy of love,” which obviously I am.  (In no language does it mean “humble.”)

2. What was your worst date (as in going out on a date, not an actual calendar date…unless you have a really bad one to share)?

I’d probably do better at coming up with a bad calendar date.  I’ve never done the whole, “hey, we just met, let’s go on a date” thing to have a really bad experience.  All my dates have been with men who already knew me well enough by that point not to mess it up.  There was once, however, that I accidentally agreed to go on a date with someone I had no interest in outside of our already-enjoyable friendship.  I thought we were just hanging out per the usual until he broke it down for me like so:  “You do understand that I meant this was a date, right?”  Enter the horror – the panic – the awkward-ness.  But, not wanting to offend, I went on the date anyway, and so began an interesting three years in the life of Amanda.

3. If you had to teach one subject in high school or college, what would it be?

Creative Writing, perhaps?  Maybe a course on Common Sense?  (And I don’t mean Thomas Paine.)

4. When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried?

It is definitely rare for me to turn laughter into tears.  I laugh so hard that I snort, squeal, or make a strange high-pitched noise that only dogs can hear, but I generally do not cry.

5. What is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you?

I think I have seen too many kind gestures in my life to single out only one.  But the greatest measure of kindness seems to come not in the grandiose gestures but in the ordinary, everyday occurrences of friendship.  Fortunately for me, my best friend Jessica is also without a doubt the kindest person I have ever known.  She has shown it in the big things, but more importantly, in the small things.  She keeps Caffeine Free Diet Coke on hand for when I visit.  My favorite shows take up copious amounts of space on her TiVo.  She makes herself mix CDs full of Levi Weaver, Derek Webb, and Ryan Adams, just so she will be familiar with the music that makes me tick.  She keeps up with our TGIFriday’s lunch cards because she knows I won’t remember to get them stamped.  She thinks my Daddy’s pickles are awesome.  Having her a double-click away on AIM saves my sanity most days, and knowing her makes my life better by association.

6. If money or skill-set was no issue, what would you love to do for a living?

Nothing!  If money was no issue, then I suppose I would just travel the world, taking pictures, writing, and scrapbooking along the way.  If skill-set was no issue, then I probably wouldn’t have a problem snagging a hot and rich husband to facilitate such travels and maybe even to carry my luggage.

7. What is one thing as an adult/parent/spouse you do that you swore you would never do?

I will have to get back to you once I become a parent or a spouse or finally succumb to the drudgery of adulthood.

8. If you could go back to one particular time in your life (not to live, not to change anything, just to visit) when would it be?

I’m a “live for the moment” type, but if you insist, I’d like to revisit that awesome breakfast Jessica and I ate at the Pancake Pantry in Nashville in March of last year.  Man, that was tasty.  Plus, that trip was all in the name of a Ryan Adams concert, and I wouldn’t mind reliving those three hours of pure awesome, either.  Mmmm.  Chocolate Chip Pancakes and Ryan Adams.  Both delicious.

9. If your walls could talk, what would they say about you (good & bad)?

“Her pajamas are sexy but her dance moves are not.”

10. If you could fix or put an end to one problem in the world what would it be?

Stupidity.  I know I should be all noble and say something like hunger or AIDS or human trafficking, but think about it.  Eliminate stupidity and that would fix it all.

You Probably Think This [Blog] Is About You, Don’t You?

My poor blog is highly neglected.  Believe it or not, I used to blog almost daily.  (Not here, obviously, but the internet proof is still there if you know where to look.)

Now, it seems that my blog usually serves as an internet scrapbook for my trips, where I post pictures and little anecdotes from my travels, so that when I am old and gray and demented, I can look back through these entries and relive my younger years.  (That’s right.  I said YOUNGER years.)

When I decided to start blogging again and get myself a spiffy new domain name, my old standby (“Shifting Sand”) was taken in all its various forms.  So, I started bouncing around ideas that played off my name – or nicknames, like “Panda.”

“Panda” is by no means a name I chose for myself, but when your given name is Amanda, these things tend to happen.  I had no nicknames growing up (and was somewhat shocked in my teen years when someone called me “Mandy” for the first time), but the “Panda” thing started to stick in my early 20s when a few friends started using it regularly.

I decided to roll with it, and found that it worked well for wordplays like “Panda-monium”—which was also already taken by someone (probably a zookeeper – or someone named Amanda – or a zookeeper named Amanda!) on the world wide web.

More thinking and brainstorming with Kelli brought me around to “Pandandrum,” which you obviously know if you’ve navigated here successfully.  I bring this up today because, when I checked my email this morning, I learned that the “Word of the Day” (courtesy of Dictionary.com) is “panjandrum,” which is how this website got its name.

A “panjandrum,” you see, is a person who is not really important… who behaves as though they are really important.  We all know one of those.  Some of my friends and I got a kick out of using that word for years to describe such people.  It was even referenced in an episode of Frasier (“Grand Panjandrum of the Vocabulary Club”).  It seemed appropriate for this blog because there is a certain measure of self-importance inherent in blogging, to presume that anyone cares what I think, where I’ve been, or how I’m feeling.

Aaaand, if you take “panjandrum” and add in “Panda,” you get….

Pandandrum.

Voila!  There is your vocabulary word for the day, and your explanation of my crazy blog url.  And a nod to the fact that I, much like the rest of the population, tend to think of myself a bit more highly than I ought.

Tonight We Sorta Kinda Tore the Lines Up

I fell in love with Tyler Hilton about the same time I wanted to crawl inside my TV screen and kick the crap out of Chris Keller.  I am referring, of course, to Tyler’s guest stint on One Tree Hill, playing the egomaniacal, sarcastic, playboy jerk of a musician who talked about himself in the third person.  He caused destruction in his wake all over town and then strolled off down the beach in the moonlight.  I enjoyed that character most when somebody was giving him a much-deserved punch in the face, but I was still sad to see him go.

After getting formally introduced to Tyler via One Tree Hill, I realized that I had seen him before – he also played Elvis in the mega-blockbuster Walk the Line.  (You may also recognize him from Charlie Bartlett.)  Hopefully, whether or not you’ve seen his face on the big or small screen, you’ve at least heard his voice, which is svelte (like buttah) with enough gravel to be dead sexy.

Tyler is a hot topic in our office (really hot. heh.) since Kelli and I like to crank up his tunes and swoon.  Kelli has always been particularly smitten with him.  I mean – she even loved Chris Keller, and as our friend Melissa put it, “Nobody loves Chris Keller.  Except Chris Keller.”

You may recall that Kelli and I attempted to go see Tyler in concert back in the summer, when he was set to tour with Better Than Ezra.  We were on the ball with getting tickets and booking a hotel down in Norfolk for the weekend, only to learn that Tyler had to drop off the tour.  Since then, we’ve been biding our time, knowing that eventually a new tour would come.

What we never imagined was that Tyler Hilton would book one solitary show in the midst of finishing his next album, and that said show would take place – not in New York City, not in L.A., not even in Wilmington – but in Lynchburg, VA.

It seemed too good to be true, so we spent a good deal of time flipping between the Facebook event and Tyler’s website, trying to determine if it was just a cruel practical joke.  Even with tickets in hand, it seemed unreal.  Finally, that great beacon of hope and purveyor of truth, Twitter, confirmed it all when Tyler tweeted:  “Let’s get ready to fly to Virginia!  Lynchburg…I’m coming for you.”

Kelli and I had talked about making t-shirts for the occasion since the first Tyler-show-that-wasn’t, so I worked on a few designs.  Kelli suggested doing “Team Nathan” and “Team Chris” shirts (you can guess who would wear which one), so I designed this:

With a great Chris-pertinent Nathan Scott quote on the back:

Ultimately, Kelli decided against the t-shirt idea, so it didn’t really make sense for me to do the “Team” thing alone.  Hence, I opted for this design (and I put the “Tyler Hilton” on the back with the infamous Chris Keller quote, “Chris Keller’s work here is done.”)

Kelli and I followed Tyler’s tweets with great interest once he got into town.  We could gather that he was staying downtown (and it’s not like there are a lot of options to choose from, but we’re not stalkers or anything).  It did just so happen that we were spending the day downtown at one of our favorite places, The Parlor Spa, getting facials, pedicures, and massages in celebration of Kelli’s birthday (which was a few weeks ago).  We did send Tyler a Twitter invitation to come down to the spa, but alas, he was a no-show.

After we left the spa, we each went home to wash all the oils off, and then we met back up and went to pick up the third member of our merry party – another OTH-watcher and Chris Keller-hater, Melissa.

We arrived at Lynchburg College quite early, to make sure that we were the first ones in line.  Arriving at the same time was a college student from Roanoke named Ali, so we were happy to welcome her into our group:

We waited and waited…and waited.  The doors opened promptly at 6:30 (small miracles, people) and we trucked right on over to the front of the stage.  Front.  And.  Center.

The opening act was a local(ish) musician named Dane Ferguson, who was entertaining and personable.  This seems like a good place to interject that I hate it (HAAAATE IT) when people yammer through the opening act (or any act, for that matter).  I get annoyed when people talk through movies, too, but at least then, the actors can’t hear you being rude and disrespectful.  Not so for musicians.  But ANYWAY.  Dane played a good set and got the audience to (shut up long enough to) sing along with a few covers along the way.  I could see the set list from where I was standing, and had jokingly said, “Hey, you skipped a few!” when he played the songs out of order.  Shortly thereafter, a young girl tapped me on the shoulder to ask if “She Knows” was on the playlist.  It wasn’t, and she looked heart-broken about it.  It turns out she was his sister, and so we all threw our lot in with her to request it.  He did not seem keen on the idea (you know every musician has at least one song they hate to play), but he acquiesced for his “baby sister.”  (Awwww.)

During the break after Dane left the stage, we realized that Tyler’s set list was also on stage, and if I leaned over juuuust far enough and snapped a photo at just the right angle, I could zoom in on my viewfinder to look at it.  Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Kelli’s favorite, “Missing You” – check!

My favorite, “When It Comes” – check!

And lots of other great songs, too.  He came out full throttle with “Tore the Line,” a song I’ve never been able to help singing and dancing along to whenever I hear it.  We were so close.  Like spit-range close.  A little too close for picture-taking, but great for viewing!  I did manage to snag some pretty decent pictures, anyway.

Tyler was very personable, joking with the crowd between songs and telling stories.  At one point, mid-story, he stopped suddenly and his eyes lit up with a big smile.  I realized from his gaze that he had spotted my shirt.  He laughed and said, “I like that!” and told the crowd that it said “Keller for President – nah, I’m just kidding, it doesn’t say that.”  I was beyond thrilled that he liked it – because, obviously, I made it in support of him, but also, I’m glad he still appreciates Chris Keller.  Probably 90% of the audience there knew about Chris Keller before they knew about Tyler Hilton, and he has managed to hang on to all those fans when he hasn’t been a Tree Hill regular for over four years, save a one-episode appearance in season 4 (which was still three years ago).  Then again, we OTH fans have always been intense about our music.

About midway through Tyler’s set, his band took a break and he pulled over a stool to play a few songs acoustically.  A girl yelled out “When the Stars Go Blue,” and he said he’d sing it if she came onstage to sing Joy’s part.  After a few moments of what I’m assuming was shock and disbelief, she pulled herself up onstage to sing the song.  She was in full freak-out mode – really excited – not that I blame her.  She was, however, the level of excited where she will probably be embarrassed to see any videos that her friends may have captured of the moment.  She first started looking out at the crowd, pleading, “What’s the first line?  What are the words?”  Kelli pointed at me and said, “You should direct all your Ryan Adams-related inquiries right over there.”  So, I slowly told her every line to the first verse, and she seemed grateful.  When the song was over, she wanted a picture, so Tyler handed her his other guitar and suggested they strike a pose:

Then, he sat back down on his stool and played a few more ballads, including Ali’s request, “I Believe in You.”  I was glad she asked for that one, because I do really love that song, and it wasn’t on his list.  It took him a few minutes of fidgeting and singing to the side of the mic before he found the right key.  I’m sure moments like that are terribly awkward for musicians, but I love them.  There’s a lot of value in a set list – those are the songs the band has actually practiced!  Especially in this instance, Tyler isn’t actually on tour, it was an isolated show, and he’s been in the studio for months on end recording new songs and certainly not singing the old ones.  Still, when an artist is willing to reveal the imperfections to play a special request, I admire them for it.  Once he found the right key, the song was perfect, anyway.

Melissa shared a few of her pictures with me, too, so you can see a different angle of Tyler!

When he finished up, he announced that he was going over to the merch table, so to come and say hello!  This was great news, since it meant we got to actually meet him – and I had something to give him, too.  While we were waiting in line, I saw Dane over to the side so I went to talk to him, to let him know I enjoyed his performance and that he should listen to his sister more often, because that song was great!

It didn’t take long to make it up to Tyler, and naturally he remembered me by my shirt, which he insisted on signing.  I obliged him, of course!

The event coordinators had put the kibosh on picture-taking.  We could take pictures as he was signing whatever, but no posed pictures (in order to keep the line moving).  Kelli told Tyler about the Norfolk show debacle, and he asked us to hang around for a bit until he got through the line.

We did, and I spent the time chatting with my old friend Amanda (who graduated high school with me and recently reconnected with me at Levi Weaver’s Lynchburg show).  She is also a big One Tree Hill and Tyler Hilton fan, and she had some friends along with her that were all very nice and funny.  Her hubby regaled me with tales of meeting Paul Johansson when they went down to Wilmington, and made me super jealous.  (I looooooove Evil Dan Scott.)

Before long, Tyler did come over, ready to chit chat and take photos.  Someone asked if he’d go back on OTH (because I’m pretty sure he’s got a standing invitation), and he said he’d definitely like to return for the finale, whenever that may be.  He said he loves going down and filming episodes, but when he goes, he gets so wrapped up in it that he doesn’t want to leave, and therefore he doesn’t do anything else (i.e. his primary career as a musician).  Hence why the last time Mark Schwahn invited him back on the show, he famously replied, “Chris Keller needs to focus on his music.”

We talked about Glee and “Bob’s Green Hut” (which was hilarious beyond what I can convey in a blog) and I told him he missed out on his massage.  He replied, “Oh!  Was that you?!” and lamented that he didn’t have time.  Putting two and two together, he asked, “So, which one of you tweeted that you were going to wash all the oils off to come to my show?”  Unfortunately *blush*, that was me.  (Of course it was me.)

Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised with Mr. Hilton.  Not because I expected little from him, but because he delivered beyond my expectations.  He was funny and personable and his performance was off the charts.  The fact that he went above and beyond to hang around and talk to us and take pictures just sealed the deal.

I cannot wait for his new album to come out (because “So Young” has been in my head all week and I can’t actually LISTEN to it), and I hope to see him on tour again very soon.

Every Night is Another Story

I was always a big fan of Halloween as a kid.  My Mom is a whiz with a sewing machine (which seems to be the sole creative trait that I do NOT possess), so she made most of my childhood costumes, like this witch costume that was recycled through most of my family over the years:

Add to that, my flair for the dramatic, and Halloween was practically made for me.  I trick-or-treated well into my teen years (you wouldn’t have wanted me to send my little brother off alone, would you?), but I was much more interested in showing off my costume than eating the candy I received.

There aren’t quite as many opportunities to dress up as an adult.  This year, though, Jessica threw a Halloween party and gave me a great excuse to go all out for the occasion.  Kids get to dress up as their favorite Disney characters or action heroes, so I decided to dress up as one of my favorite characters:

One Tree Hill’s resident “Tutor Girl” Haley James Scott.  Of course, if I dressed in regular Haley clothing and went around correcting everyone’s grammar all night, I probably would not be easily distinguished from my every-day-self.  So, I elected to go with Haley’s cheerleader look (circa season 4).

So, I enlisted Mom’s help yet again to turn me into a bona fide Tree Hill Raven.

I put on my tattoo (I’ll not be posting that here on the world wide web, but trust me, it was there).  I’ll let you see the “R” I put on my face, though. 

I designed myself a snazzy “Tutor Girl” notebook (and even put some official things inside, for authenticity’s sake):

Since I was dressing up as a 17-year old, I figured I better bring her fake ID to the party, so I recreated that in Photoshop.  I also made a replica of Haley’s Cracker Jack bracelet, so it would be clear that I was a particular Ravens cheerleader.  Kelli’s cousin in NC provided the perfect blue and white pom-poms.  And I donned a wedding ring, too, of course.

So, after a great deal of planning, a lot of Mom’s sewing and me adding the ribboned-details (thank you, stitch-witchery), I was very pleased with the end result:

There was only one small detail that I had to do without.  The real Haley, you see, has a hot husband to cheer for:

But, as they say, “The Show Must Go On.”

The party was a blast, and there were lots of great costumes represented.  First, our lovely host Jessica went all out with a 1920s era Flapper costume.  She looked hawt.

Her daughter, Thai, dressed up like Cleopatra, and was pleased to be “older” than her Mom for the night.

Brandon, or “Bubba” as he is more affectionately termed, was a very affable convict.

His girlfriend Eleanor, was apparently the officer assigned to his case, ready to keep him in line by all necessary means:

Lenard could be spotted sporadically sporting his gorilla costume, but it was a little hot in there!

B.J. donned a Strawberry Shortcake costume, and I called her Strawberry Short-skirt all night.

Here’s our pre-party girl-group photo.

Even Jessica’s dog, Molly, got in on the costume action.  Her costume took only a little more fabric to make than B.J.’s.

Soon, guests started to arrive, including Kelli, aka The Wicked Witch of the West:

Jessa arrived as a very cute Alice in Wonderland:

And she set her sights on Hugh Hefner (Jessica’s Dad):

Some of the other great costumes that dropped in through the evening included…

Shrek and Fiona (Tristan and Michelle, I think):

And a football player and referee combo (Steven and Mary):

The kids had their own party in the basement…

…While the adults carried on upstairs.

A great time was had by all!

Who Will Illuminate the Days, New York?

I love New York.  That probably seems a little backwards for someone whose favorite place in the world is Bedford, Virginia.  All the same, even though my rural town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge will always be home, there is something about New York City that makes me feel alive.  Every time I go, I find something new to love, and this trip (my 16th?!) was special in several ways, not the least of which was these three beautiful ladies:

 

Most of the time, my trips to NYC happen solo.  I’ve always met up with other friends once I arrived, but aside from a day trip with Andrea, I’ve never taken a friend from home with me into the city.  This time, however, I got to share the experience with some of my very best friends.  (I know they are my best friends by the way they willingly handed over all control to me so that I could plan everything down to the minute and print out color-coded itineraries for them to follow.) 

We set out for Richmond bright and early on Thursday morning to hop a JetBlue flight to JFK.  Our flight was listed on a 30-minute delay when we checked in, but we still landed in New York earlier than scheduled.  On a tip from my pro-traveler friend Matthew, I had arranged for a car service to pick us up at the airport, and I freely admit to feeling quite impressed with myself when a van pulled up bearing a sign with my name on it.

The first sight of the city is always a rush:

We checked into the Wyndam Garden in Chelsea and marveled at the very tiny hotel room.  Of course, everything in New York is tiny and pricy.  The hotel room, while smaller than the living room of my apartment, costs as much per night as my apartment does per month.  Once again, I must tip my hat to Matthew, since thanks to him, we were able to stay for 4 nights for the cost of one.  (Matthew – you are our hero.)

With not a moment to lose on the itinerary, we set off on our first mission to find the birthplace of Theodore Roosevelt.  Jessica has a small obsession with presidents (and anything historical), so we added that to the to-do list for her.  That is not to say that we didn’t all enjoy the tour.  It was quite informative, and what our tour guide didn’t know, Jessica certainly did.  She was right in her element.

From there, we proceeded toward SoHo, Chinatown, and Little Italy, stopping in one of my favorite places in New York – St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral.  It is spectacularly beautiful, and pictures cannot do it justice.

Around the corner from the church, we found Kelli’s first itinerary stop – the Pinkberry yogurt shop.  Jessica and I opted for fresh fruit toppings (which were delicious), and Kelli and Jessa went for decadence with chocolate and strawberries. 

We continued walking and checking out shops – Kelli, Jessica, and Jessa each bought $5 scarfs, and Matthew came to meet us in the city.  It was wonderful to see him again, and he was certainly pleased to meet the other ladies I brought along.  We spent some time walking around with him (making him look like the luckiest man in New York to have such an awesome entourage) until we had to go back to the room to get gussied up for our trip to the theater Thursday night.

We went to see Wicked at the Gershwin Theater and we had fantastic seats overlooking the stage.  The show was incredible.  I can’t say enough good things about it.  It was full of great laugh-out-loud moments, and the production was truly magnificent.  If you’re planning a trip to the city, make sure that show is on your schedule.

After the show, we met up with Matthew again, and he took us to a diner where we had a very late dinner.  Afterwards, Kelli and I decided to go with the mentality of “the city that never sleeps” and stay out with Matthew until the wee hours of the morning.  He showed us a wonderful time, wooing us with jukebox selections to cater to his ladies, including New Kids on the Block for Kelli and Ryan Adams for me.  We all tuned up in a passionate Journey sing-along when he played “Don’t Stop Believin.’”  (And we weren’t the only ones!)

Friday morning came a little early for all of us, so we got a bit of a late start.  We hopped a subway uptown to see Riverside Church and Grant’s Tomb, located within a few blocks of one another near Columbia University.  Riverside Church was another breathtaking display of carvings and stained glass.

When we tore ourselves away from the sanctuary, we encountered some light rain outside.  The ladies put their scarves to good use, and I got wet and snapped a photo in commemoration.

Grant’s Tomb was also a sight to behold and another historical stop for Jessica.  We all pledged our allegiance to the Confederacy, of course, but enjoyed a respite from the rain outside.

By the time we took a subway back down to Columbus Circle, the rain had cleared away and we didn’t see anymore of it throughout the rest of our trip.  We had lunch inside the Time Warner building adjacent to Central Park and did a bit of shopping as well.

We wanted to tour Central Park and had considered taking one of the traditional horse-drawn carriages.  We planned to compare prices against the pedicab drivers, and we opted for the latter.  For one thing, the pedicab tours cover a lot more ground and last three times as long.  For another, the drivers had great accents and were a-dor-a-ble.

Jessica and I climbed in one cab and Kelli and Jessa took the other.  The boys drove us alongside one another (in and out of traffic!) and gave a great commentary on park history as we went along.

They stopped us at three different sections of the park and gave us time to get out, walk around, and take pictures.  One of the drivers even volunteered to come along and take group photos for us.  Our first stop was at the Bethesda Fountain, where we saw a man playing guitar and another one blowing bubbles for passers-by.

The next stop was at Bow Bridge:

 

 

 

 We had time to go walk across the bridge and then we did the “Friends” pose by the fountain in the courtyard.

 

 Our last stop was “Strawberry Fields” which pleased our Beatles-loving Jessica greatly.  We even happened upon an impromptu Beatles jam-session and stopped to listen and sing along before continuing on our way.

When we reached the park’s edge (and the end of our tour), I think we all thought about pooling our money to see if we could talk the boys into driving us around the rest of the city (or the rest of our lives), but we begrudgingly bid them adieu.

Instead, we set off on foot to see a bit more of the city, including the Trump Tower, St. Patrick’s Cathedral Rectory, Rockefeller Center, and the NBC store.  Matthew joined us again to make a stop dictated by our cupcake-connosieur Kelli – the Magnolia Bakery. 

We parted ways for the first time on Friday night, as Jessica, Kelli and Jessa headed out to see Jude Law in Hamlet (and believe me, they were more interested in the actor than the story), and I headed to a benefit concert at the American Red Cross.  This was my 5th year attending the show – hosted by Bradley Cole and his band – to raise money for the Red Cross.  It is always a raucous time as various multi-talented actors take the stage to perform anything from ballads to show tunes to classic rock and roll.  Before the show, I had the pleasure (*wink*) of meeting Zach Conroy (below) and seeing a lot of old friends again.

I had a nice chat with Alex Cole (he is absolutely delightful), Bonnie Dennison (who said she was busy with auditions), and Lawrence St. Victor (few men are that gorgeous while also being so sweet and kind).  I was especially glad to see the always-charming Trent Dawson backstage.  He later rocked the house as I knew he would.

From my seat, I saw David Andrew McDonald slip in towards the end of the show.  He had been performing several blocks over in Mamma Mia, but stopped by to see everyone after his show.  I was fortunate enough to get to talk with him for a few minutes, and I am also very jealous that my friend Candace (who was in NYC at the same time that we were got to see him light up the stage on Broadway.

 

 I caught up with the rest of my clan where they were having a very late dinner.  Food becomes an afterthought to me when I’m in New York City, because it just seems to take valuable time away from everything I want to do, but I certainly could not do the late night dinners.  As a group, we weren’t so great at the late night anything, opting instead for much-needed sleep to get through the next day.  Kelli turned out to be the adventurous one, and she went out every single night.  I was very proud.

Saturday morning, I got up first (the horror!) and left everyone fast asleep to head uptown to the Renaissance Hotel for breakfast with Bradley Cole.  I also got to see my dear friend Shari again!  It had been way too long.  We had a delicious breakfast (I was actually starving from missing dinner the night before), and the Renaissance Hotel was swanky.  We had a lovely view of Times Square from the dining room.

The sign for Wicked was level with the window on the other side of the dining room, so I got Shari to snap this picture of me on our way out.

From there, we went to the Marriott Marquis to check in for the Guiding Light Fan Club Luncheon.  I have never seen so many people there!  The luncheon had been sold out for months, and that was after arrangements had been made to open the event up to several hundred additional people.  We saw many familiar faces and a lot of first-timers as well, who had made the trek to say goodbye to our 72-year-old show.  There is always a raffle for props, wardrobe, scripts, and photos, but I normally don’t participate in those.  The exception was the year I won the Company sign (which is an especially treasured memento now).  This being the last year, I decided to try for another coveted item.  They had several scripts up for raffle – both signed and unsigned – but perhaps the hottest commodity was the signed script for episode 15,762 – the very last episode Guiding Light ever aired.

Needless to say, I was thrilled to hear my number called to win that piece of television history.  On my way back to the table after claiming my prize, I met Shari who was waving her ticket and heading toward the stage.  She had won one of the other scripts from another episode in the last week of shows.  The cherry on top came when I was deciphering all the signatures and found one I didn’t recognize.  I had almost written it off as a mystery until I had an epiphany and realized that the signature belonged to Justin Deas.  The man is brilliant (and has six Emmys to prove it), but he is very private and never does fan events, which makes his signature very rare indeed!

Scripts in tow, Shari and I made the rounds together to various actors’ tables.  We started, of course, with Tom Pelphrey.  We both adore him and he is one of the best actors I have ever seen.  He also added his signature to my script.

John Driscoll (a fellow Virginian and all-around lovable guy) flew back to New York from L.A. to share the day with us.  Hopefully I will get to see him again soon.

We saw many old favorites and even got to meet Fiona Hutchison for the very first time.  I was delighted to get to see Mandy Bruno and Rob Bogue again.  Let it be known that if there is ever a movie about my life, she is the one I want to play me!  I had forgotten that, last year, I gave them some mix CDs that I made.  They had not forgotten, however, and raved to me about my music taste (always my favorite compliment to receive) and said a few of the CDs have never left their car CD player.  I am always happy to broaden someone’s musical horizons!

After the luncheon, we upheld another long-standing tradition and went up to the Broadway Lounge on the 8th floor to unwind.  Jessica came to join us and we kicked back, got a bite to eat and listened to the selections from the lounge singer plunking away at the piano behind us.

While I was at the luncheon, Jessica, Kelli and Jessa had (finally!) gotten up and made their way downtown to catch the Staten Island Ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.  They were very pleased with themselves for successfully navigating the subway system (no small feat right now, while the subway system is basically in chaos!) and they had a great time.  I snagged some of their pictures for your viewing pleasure.

They also used their Amanda-free time to grab a burger (I don’t like burgers) at the world-famous Parker-Meridian.  I heard mixed reviews, from “It was WONDERFUL!” to “It was just like any other burger.  Except it was $14.”  So if you’re headed to New York, you’ll have to decide for yourself about that one!  Either way, they had their burgers and walked through Times Square while I was otherwise occupied at the luncheon.

Our whole group met back up at the New York Waterway for a 90-minute City Lights Cruise in the New York harbor.  Long-time readers will remember that I took that cruise (in the rain!) last fall and loved every second of it.  Our tour guide this time was not as good as the one I had last year (not that anyone could top him, truly), but it was still enjoyable.

It got a little chilly out on the water, but it was worth it just for the views.  None of us had a camera that could quite capture the city lights from a moving boat, but you can sort of get the idea:

When we got off the boat, we saw this debonair gentleman on the side of a bus.  I think Kelli speaks for all of us:

 

 (Incidentally, I was certain I recognized him, but it wasn’t until I got home that I was able to confirm that he is, in fact, Matt Bomer, who once played a beloved character on none other than my dear Guiding Light.)

 We hadn’t quite had enough of the New York skyline, so we proceeded on to Rockefeller Center, where we bought tickets to the Top of the Rock. 

Unlike going up into the Empire State Building, we did not have to stand in a ridiculous line for two hours to make it to the top.  Also, since we weren’t on the Empire State Building, we could actually see the Empire State Building!  We took our time at the top, enjoying the city views and even the cold breeze that accompanied it.

Our next stop was The Rum House, where we once again met up with Matthew and some of his friends.  As a special treat, Matthew took to the microphone and serenaded us with a few tunes.  We felt like very special guests, and everyone enjoyed his animated performance.

Sunday morning, we woke up to our last full day in the city.  We had packed so many activities into our first three days that we were able to take Sunday at a leisurely pace.  Still, we covered a LOT of ground.

We took the subway down to Wall Street, where we were greeted by church bells emanating from Trinity Church.  We had lunch at another fantastic deli (Jessica noted that New Yorkers know how to make a sandwich!) and toured Trinity’s sanctuary and grounds.  Alexander Hamilton is buried at Trinity Church along with several other notable historical figures (which I only know from asking Jessica “Who’s that?” every five seconds). 

From there, we walked on to St. Paul’s Chapel, which is part of the Trinity parish.  It is the chapel where George Washington attended during his presidency, and it also gained fame after 9/11 by escaping completely unharmed from the destruction all around it.  Since it was right across the street from the World Trade Center, it became a place of refuge for survivors and mourners and still houses many memorials to that day, including an altar with pictures of the fallen, and letters that poured in from school children across the U.S.

 

From there, we walked across to Ground Zero and stopped into the Memorial Preview Site.  The walls showed a timeline from that fateful day, and a TV mounted on the wall played moving interviews from some of the people affected by that tragedy.  It is painful but important to remember those events.

Our next expedition was to cross the Brooklyn Bridge.  As we walked towards it, we happened upon the Stage Deli, which Jessa had hoped to find, so we slipped inside for some cheesecake and a place to rest for the trek ahead.

Our walk also led us through City Hall, where we stopped and took some pictures before proceeding onto the pedestrian access of the Brooklyn Bridge.  I am not sure why, but I didn’t expect quite so many people to be walking across the bridge.  We just blended in with the crowd, since we were all marveling at the triumph of architecture and the views on either side of us.  I remember being told that it is the one place in the world where you can have a plane flying over pedestrians, walking over cars, driving over boats, floating above a train (the subway).

The bridge is over one mile long, but we walked the full length of it and ended up in Brooklyn.  We walked down to the Brooklyn Bridge Park and the Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park and seized the perfect photo opportunities with a clear view of the Manhattan skyline, the Hudson River, the East River, and the Manhattan Bridge.

I had read online about Grimaldi’s Pizzeria, which is considered the best pizza in the state of New York.  It was near the park, so I figured we may as well check it out.  We were surprised to see a long line of people waiting outside just to get in.  I walked to the front of the line and asked the locals if the pizza was worth the wait.  They assured me that it was and estimated the wait time at about 45 minutes.  That 45 minutes turned out to be about twice that, but we figured we may as well wait since we were already there.  The pizza was indeed amazing.  The ingredients were fresh, and the pizza was cooked in a bona fide coal oven, which cooked it to perfection.  We were even able to watch the pizza being prepared, which was an impressive sight – and serious business!  Papa Grimaldi himself (I’m just guessing about his name) was there seating people and making sure that everyone was enjoying their food.  I got the feeling there may have been dire consequences for the chef if anyone was not enjoying their food! 

After dinner, I dragged my freezing comrades up a very steep hill to reach the Brooklyn Heights Promenade.  They obliged me and the reward for all of us was perhaps the most beautiful city view I have ever seen.  We found ourselves looking right at the Manhattan skyline in all its glory.  I felt like I could have stood there forever, just drinking it all in.  All of the walking we did that day (and all of the waiting in line for pizza while the sun went down) was worth it for that transcendent moment.

We hopped on a subway not far from the Promenade and made it back to our hotel before 10:00.  It’s probably blasphemy to go to bed in New York at such an early hour, but that it what we did.  (Of course, by “we,” I mean me, Jessica, and Jessa.  Kelli rocked the New York nightlife once again in our stead.)

Monday morning, we got up, packed up, and went back to Times Square for a few more photo opportunities and a little shopping. 

We stopped into some of the standard places like the Hershey Store and Toys R Us.  Any place that has Reese cups bigger than my head or a lifesize Barbie’s Dreamhouse is a place that I need to be! 

We capped off our trip with lunch (and cheesecake!) at Junior’s before meeting our car back at the hotel.

All in all, I’d say the trip was a great success.  We all made it back home still friends (which doesn’t always happen, you know!) and I think they’d all be willing to travel somewhere with me again in the future!

Sure, it was a little bittersweet to say goodbye to Guiding Light, but my greatest memories of the show are wrapped up in the last 7 years of going to New York, meeting other fans and the actors themselves, and forging friendships in both groups.  I have built many strong and lasting relationships on that foundation, and no network cancellation notice can ever take that away.  In my mind, Rev. Rutledge’s candle is still burning in the window.

It’s Only Gonna Make You Love Me More

Monday was my birthday.  Sorry if you missed the momentous occasion!

I have become known for going over the top with my birthday celebrations, but you only go ‘round once, after all, and my birthday is the one day during the year when I can legitimately expect the world to revolve around me.  My wonderful friends are great about indulging me during this time of the year, and since August is the only month without a significant national holiday, everyone needs a good reason to celebrate, right?

I’m not even really finished celebrating yet (there are only so many hours in the day), but so far I have enjoyed an evening at the spa (Jessica’s gift to me), a short visit to Richmond to see Tracey and Adam (who took me to the Cheesecake Factory!), a lunch with my two best friends, a party at my apartment, and a full day of wearing a plastic “Happy Birthday” tiara, which secured many hallway greetings from friends and strangers alike!

Most notably, this year’s celebration included a very special birthday trip to Wilmington, NC.  The trip was Kelli’s idea and then our pretty fantastic bosses helped bring it to fruition the first weekend in August.

Wilmington is a beautiful place for anyone to visit, but our trip had an extra incentive.  Wilmington is the home of Screen Gems studios, where over 500 movies have been filmed, in addition to several TV shows like Dawson’s Creek, and – most importantly! – One Tree Hill.

The following recaps some of the places we saw on the trip, paired with screencaps from the show for reference.  You can probably tell the difference between pictures I took and the screencaps, because — well — there aren’t any people in the pictures that I took, aside from a few appearances by Kelli and myself.

(I guess this is where I should say *spoiler alert* — I mean, I didn’t give away the whole plot or anything, but spoiler-free purists should probably beware.)

We drove down armed with a long list of locations to visit, not the least of which included a tour of the studio itself.  While we waited for the tour to begin, we entertained ourselves by looking around the building, where we saw the Tree Hill Police car, and took photos in front of the One Tree Hill sign.

The tour itself was fun and informative.  Photos were not allowed inside the sets (a rule from the CW), and they were “hot” sets (i.e. already prepared for filming), so we were told not to touch anything.  We toured three sets, starting with Lucas’ house (Peyton’s Comet was parked outside), then moving on to the TRIC Office set (which is not inside the physical location of TRIC in downtown Wilmington), and ultimately to Brooke’s house set, which Kelli and I were both ready to move into because it is so beautiful.  Since we couldn’t do pictures, I just put together screen caps so you can get the general idea:

It was great to see a set that’s been in use since season one.  And yes, the bullet hole is there.  I checked.

The TRIC office set was really awesome.  The art department for One Tree Hill is no joke.  Even up close, the brick and the steel beams in the ceiling looked very real, when in fact, they’re all made of wood, allowing them to take down or set up the ENTIRE set in 20 minutes or less.  I loved the stained glass behind Peyton’s desk, and her albums on the wall.  There were also CDs sitting everywhere on set, just as you’d expect.  It struck me how small Peyton’s desk looked compared to how it appears on screen.  It’s amazing what camera angles can do!  The piano and sound board in the studio are the real deal, though.

Brooke’s house was a beautiful set!  Once again, the art department gets kudos for making wood look like marble in Brooke’s kitchen.  We were able to see the living room (very small!), both bedrooms, the bathroom, and the kitchen.  (The stairs, as you might guess, don’t actually go anywhere.)  Our tour guide opened up Brooke’s fridge and cabinets to show us the contents.  She explained the types of product placement – one is contractual (Sunkist, anyone?), and the other is simply from companies who send a box of peanut butter, etc., hoping they’ll use it to dress the sets.  Sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t.

The rest of our time in Wilmington was spent driving around to various other filming locations to snap photos of familiar and iconic places.  Perhaps the most emblematic of them all is the River Court.  Season one started on the River Court and barely an episode has passed over the years that has not featured it in some way.  For my part, anytime Lucas and Nathan face off on the River Court – as friends or foes – is a great moment in my book.

The names from the season 4 finale have completed faded away, but I could still see the faint outline of The Cure lyrics that Peyton painted across the court in season 5:

Here’s Kelli on the River Court bleachers:

The basketball posts and the light poles on both sides of the court were filled with messages from fans all over the world.  They were all fairly recent, so I imagine they are painted over often for filming purposes.  I took some photos, but did not have a marker on me to contribute!  I’ll just throw my lot in with the “Always and Forever” folks.

On the opposite side of the river is the downtown River Walk, which has also been featured many times and is a staple of the show as well as the town of Wilmington.

My greatest interest in the River Walk were these little tables!  I think it’s safe to say that this scene, in the third episode of season 1 (“Are You True?”), is the episode that hooked me on One Tree Hill, and the beginning of the story that has kept me coming back through six seasons.  (Always and forever, indeed.)

We also saw several of the houses that have been used for exterior shots on the show.  Most of them are privately owned, so we did not want to get too close or linger too long.  Even so, I got a few pictures, and a few of the houses were for sale and vacant, so I got a closer look at those.

Peyton’s House

I think more trauma has gone down in this house than in any other Tree Hill location.  Poor Peyton.

The Scott House

I couldn’t get a view of the basketball hoop, but I’m sure it’s back there!

Naley’s House

This is one of the ones that was for sale!  Conveniently also one that I most wanted to see.

Lucas and Karen’s House

Lots of weighty conversations have taken place on that porch.

Jake’s Savannah House  (not actually in Savannah, obviously)

Haley’s House

I should have stayed there.  Perhaps James Lafferty would have eventually shown up and kissed me.  (Heh.)

Brooke’s House  (Felix and Anna’s house was, in fact, next door.)

“The girl behind the red door.”

Whitey’s House

I *love* Whitey and the sage wisdom (and crotchety old man attitude) that he brings to the show.  A lot of great advice has been dispensed from a rocking chair on his porch.

Naley’s Apartment Building

We didn’t see much of the outside of Nathan and Haley’s apartment, but this is it:

The community college in Wilmington doubles as Tree Hill High School, and here is the courtyard and walkways often featured on the show.

Who doesn’t love Keith Scott’s Body Shop?

Dan and Carrie faced off here – and Dan won.  Because he is awesome with a side of evil.

Kelli and I actually stopped in this diner for lunch and only realized later that it, too, has been used on the show.  Samantha and Jack frequented this diner in season 6, and Kelli and I sat right about where Peyton and Julian are sitting in the picture below.  I would like to think that Kelli was sitting there in Julian’s spot.  I know she’d like that.  (And for the record, we shared a ham sandwich, and it was gooood.)

This church and day school combo served as the same on the show.  Keith had a bit of a rough day here in season 2 (as did Nathan, and Jules, and Lucas, and Karen, and wellll…everybody else besides Dan), and then in season 5, Jamie went to school here.

Some emotional conversations (of the one-sided and two-sided variety) have happened in this cemetery.  The grave markers used on the show are not permanent fixtures – they are only set up as needed for filming. 

I think we all remember what happened at this mall.  But I try to focus on the Pretzel Stand aspect, myself.

Remember the boy draft dates?  Mouth and Peyton had a wild night here with Mouth’s grandpa.

I think this was one of Kelli’s favorite stops, seeing as it was home base to her all-time favorite Tree Hill resident, the infamous Chris Keller (aka Tyler Hilton).  It’s also the Record Shop where show creator Mark Schwahn put in some guest appearances over the years.  Since Tyler didn’t really make any of these photos, I made a little something just for Kelli that I’ll thrown in right here, too.

This church was the location used for most of One Tree Hill’s memorable 100th episode.  I don’t think this was anybody’s favorite day either – except for maybe the fans!  This episode is one of my favorites.

“You should have your mail forwarded here.  Did they give you the same cell as last time?”   “I don’t know.  They redecorated.”   Ah, the Tree Hill Police Station.

 This was on our location list, but we hadn’t planned to go see EVERYTHING, and this was kind of in the “insignificant places” category.  That is, until we realized that it was right next to our hotel!  They tried to make Deb go to rehab, and she said no, no, no… and tried to escape.

This show-owned store in downtown Wilmington has also been a part of One Tree Hill since season 1.  Back then, it was Karen’s Café, and now, it’s the store-front of Brooke’s Clothes Over Bros store.  (The “Jammin’ Java” across the street served as Karen’s Café in the pilot episode.) 

This is the bridge from the show’s title sequence in seasons 1-4.  It’s also been used for other scenes in the show, as seen below.

TRIC is another show-owned building in downtown Wilmington.  This warehouse has seen a lot of great acts come through Tree Hill!  The Wreckers, Jimmy Eat World, The Honorary Title, Fall Out Boy, and so on.  Apparently we’re in for another live performance in the early episodes of season 7!

While we were doing our One Tree Hill tour, we covered a lot of tourist attractions by default, and were led to a few other pretty places that the average tourist may have missed.

For one, the Hugh McRae Park probably isn’t high on the tourism list, but it was a beautiful area.  The ducks were very excited to see us, and followed Kelli around the park until they realized she didn’t have any food for them.  This park has been used a few times on the show.  Dan and Keith took a stroll down memory lane that did not end very well in Season 3, and Peyton and Skills had a heart-to-heart in this park before Jamie’s 5th birthday party.

The Airlie Gardens are in Wilmington, and they’ve played host to quite a few TV shows and films because their grounds are beautiful.  Kelli took a liking to this bottle statue at the beginning of our path:

We walked for a while through a series of beautiful trees and then found our primary destination – the Pergola.  The grassy area, walkway, and fountain constituted part of Andy’s yard in Season 2 of One Tree Hill, and Karen and Andy watched the meteor shower at the edge of the water.  This scene should also be familiar to fans of Dawson’s Creek.

As we circled around the rest of the gardens (I think it was about a mile walk, if memory serves), we spotted this view that looked distinctly like part of “Dawson’s Creek” –

We drove down the coastline, headed to Fort Fisher beach, and encountered a major thunderstorm.  The rain was pouring down, and we were losing hope of actually getting to see the location down on the beach.  But, about 2 minutes before we reached our destination, we drove out of the rain into a beautiful day!  We found some public parking and a public access area to get to the beach.  When we walked out onto the beach, we were looking for a very specific spot.  Eagle Eye Kelli looked down the beach to our right and said “Over there!”  We walked down the beach and climbed up the rocks to take some pictures of this beautiful wedding location.  For my part, I loved seeing the woods, next to the rocks, next to the sand, next to the beach.  Usually I find beach photographs a little one-note and boring, but I can definitely see why the location scouts chose this area for filming.  It was truly magnificent, and Kelli and I got in a nice stroll along the beach in the process!

We drove back through more rain and had lunch at a great little restaurant (what was it called, Kelli?) while another storm passed over Wilmington.  The rapid weather changes created some beautiful effects in the sky.  Pictures never do justice to that kind of thing, but here’s one through-the-windshield shot that attempts to capture the moment:

Another Tree Hill wedding took place at Greenfield Lake, which spans a huge area in Wilmington.  We were fortunate enough to happen upon the right spot without too much driving around – I credit my eagle-eyed companion once again, who spotted the bridge we were looking for over the water.

We had to get adventurous going out to Orton Plantation.  The heavy rains from earlier in the day had us four-wheeling through the mud and gravel road leading up to the plantation.  Running along one side of that road was a creek full of alligators.  I refused to glance to the side, but Kelli inadvertently saw quite a few of them poking their heads up.  Fortunately, we saw them on our way OUT of the plantation – otherwise, we might never have gotten out of the car.

The lady in the visitor’s center/ticket office gave us a brief rundown of the plantation, and provided us with a list (several pages long) that talked about various movies and TV shows that had used the plantation for filming.  The listing for One Tree Hill, unfortunately, was not entirely accurate, but it did point us to the house where they filmed the interior shots of the beach house when “MURDERER” was written on the wall:

We also saw (and were able to go inside) the chapel used in “A Walk to Remember” – Kelli and I both loved that movie back in the day.

The lady in the visitor’s center provided us with bug spray, but it either did nothing to actually deter the bugs, or there were just a freaking LOT of mosquitoes and such hanging around.  For that reason, we cut our tour a bit short, but we were able to get the general idea.  I even climbed up in the “tree house,” and you can see Kelli peering up at me from the path below:

I had to go home and re-watch the DVDs (amazing, I know) to figure out the exact location of the wedding ceremony.  Turns out, they did the ceremony on the private lawn of the Orton Plantation house.  There is an elderly gentleman who actually lives in the house, so while we were welcome to photograph the house from the gardens, we did not go onto the lawn.  The wedding reception – I was surprised to learn – was actually filmed on the plantation as well, in a huge white tent on the lawn beside the chapel.  I had assumed it was done inside the studio somewhere.  I know from some of my actor friends that they generally hate filming weddings, because everyone has to be there alllll day long, so everyone can film their pieces and still be a part of the congregation.  I imagine that could have gotten fairly miserable for everyone if they were filming on a hot day!

When it was time to pack up and head back home, we had one stop to make about an hour north of Wilmington.  I am guessing most folks skip this location, since it’s so far out of the way, but I was intent on seeing it and Kelli obliged me.  Fortunately, it probably only added about 30 minutes to our trip.  It was well worth it for me, because this bridge from Ep. 322 (“The Show Must Go On”) was part of the most climactic season finale in the show’s history.  I loved that entire episode, and while Haley was standing on the bridge screaming, I was standing in my living room screaming.  Plus, Led Zeppelin was playing, and it really doesn’t get much better than that.  (And yes, we definitely listened to “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” as we were driving up.)

I can’t remember the details of all my birthdays through the years, but much like I remember spending my 25th birthday in Hollywood, I’ll always remember 28 as the birthday I went to Wilmington.  And for the record – Wilmington was way better.

If You’ve Got the Poison, I’ve Got the Remedy

purell

The people who love me most in this world know I have serious issues.  Most prominently, I’m a germophobe with (I’d say mild) obsessive-compulsive disorder.  I am known to always have an arsenal of hand-sanitizer at my immediate disposal.  I have a pump bottle on my desk, one in the car cup-holder, and presently have three small bottles in my purse, since I just received a new bottle of (Holla! Cucumber-melon scented!) Purell as a gift from my dear Jessica, just for being me.  (I may have editorialized that last part a little.)

 

People who pass by my desk are often heard remarking, “I smell hand sanitizer,” and anyone who’s ever been in a restaurant with me knows that after I finish perusing the menu, but before I squeeze my lemon into my water and rub my silverware with my napkin, I apply a hearty dose of the 90-proof.

 

To me, if it’s not cute, cuddly, edible, or, you know, soap – it’s dirty.  That is including (but not limited to):  bathrooms, trash cans, mail, keyboards, telephones, grocery carts, door handles, money, and keys.  It especially includes other people and their hands.  It’s true what they say – you really do not know where those hands have been!  But I do.  They’ve been in the stall next to me, after which they left the bathroom without even turning on the faucet.  They’ve been scratching their tail or picking their nose or hanging out at Wal-Mart and they’ve never considered spending a few quality moments with a bar of soap.

 

Sadly, I’ve found that can apply to the most upstanding of folks.  But – and you can accuse me of profiling here – the creepier/crazier/crustier the person, the cruddier the hands.

 

So, this afternoon, one said creepy/crazy/crusty-man came by my office and proceeded to ramble aimlessly and non-sensically about absolutely nothing I could help him with, while I put forth my best effort at pleasantries that – to any rational person – would signal an end to the conversation, followed by the prompt exit from my general vicinity.

 

Instead, he was impervious to hints – subtle or otherwise – and continued to drone on until he finally drew to a close, and much to my chagrin, reached out his hand for mind.  In much the same way that you can tell someone is going to be a sloppy and disgusting kisser, you can tell who’s going to have a skeazy handshake.* 

 

First of all, he held out his hand like he wanted me to caress it rather than shake it.  Secondly, that awkward pose provided me an up-close view of his lengthy fingernails, which made me shudder and want to say, “OK, look.  Signs point to the fact that you’re most likely a dude.  And as a dude, your fingernails should NOT be longer than mine.”  Once we actually made contact, my suspicions were confirmed when I found his handshake to be clammy and limp – I could almost feel the germs leaching onto me with glee.  As soon as he was out the door, I ran to the sink and washed my hands – up to my elbows – for a solid ten minutes.

 

You’d think that was the end of my sordid tale, but, alas – I have more.  Less than an hour later, THE GUY CAME BACK!  It was more of the same – useless information and going on and on and on.  My patience had already worn thin, and all I really wanted was for him to GOOOOO AWAAAAAAY. 

 

Before he would leave, however, he had one final request:

 

*points at my desk* “Hey – can I use some of your hand sanitizer?”

 

Inside, I was all, “Dear God!  Noooo!  Not my hand sanitizer!”  On the outside, though, I begrudgingly handed it over to him and said, “There’s only a little bit left.  You can have it.”  He insisted that he could not take it, as someone else may come along that I don’t know from Adam and they, too, may be uncouth enough to ask to borrow personal items from my desk.  I kept pleading, “No, it’s OK, really, you can keep it,” but in the end, he handed it back to me anyway.

 

I was appalled.  My hand-sanitizer.  My safe and happy place in a word of dirt and disorder and he CONTAMINATED IT.  Luckily, I have a co-worker who loves me and knows me well, so as he stepped out of the door, and I sat teetering on the edge of breakdown, she sprung into action with the disinfectant wipes and saved the day.  She judged it best that the bottle be tossed in the trash after dispensing the remnant into my offended hand, and then she followed it up by wiping down all the surfaces while I practiced my breathing exercises.

 

The bottom line, creepy people of the world, is please do not touch me.  And please do not touch my hand sanitizer.  The fact that you do not have your own is the very same reason I would ask that you NOT.  TOUCH.  ME.

 

Thank you.  That is all.

 

*Not to be confused with “Sleazy Handshake,” Ryan Adams’ latest alt-metal-or-something-esque moniker.

Like We’re All Half Crazy and All at Least Half Alright

I am not sure how many years my friend Terri has been asking me to join her for the Marco Island SoapFest, but this year, I decided at the last minute (about two months beforehand in Amanda-time) to go for it.

 

My primary reason for going was to spend another fantastic weekend with Terri, Christy, and Heather, since we had such a blast during the Best (Worst) NYC Trip Ever I had also never been to Florida, and thought this would be a golden opportunity.  (Thank you, tax refund.)

 

The catalyst for the trip was the Marco Island SoapFest, bringing actors from all four east coast soaps (Guiding Light, As the World Turns, All My Children, and One Life to Live) together for a fun weekend benefitting several children’s charities, most notably the Eimerman Educational Center, which provides outreach for children with autism.

 

I lucked out and scored a comparatively cheap flight right out of Lynchburg with a connection through Charlotte, so I parked my car at the office and Daddy dropped me off at the airport Friday morning.  Since US Airways (and a lot of other money-grubbing airlines) have instituted fees for checked baggage, I refused to fall victim to their ploy and shoved everything into a rather large carry-on.  That was also one way to ensure that my luggage actually made it to Florida with me, and I didn’t have another ordeal like the one in New York last fall.  I even managed to abide by the liquid rule (nothing larger than a 3oz container, and all containers must fit into a quart-size ziplock bag.  My biggest bottle?  Anti-bac, of course!).  I was pretty proud of myself:

 

 

I had a three hour layover in Charlotte on the way down, which I passed by grabbing a bagel, propping my feet up on my suitcase, and enjoying the miracle and wonder of my iPod (forget the wheel; this is man’s greatest achievement):

 

 

I made it to Fort Myers airport without incident, where I met up with Heather in the main terminal and grabbed a late lunch at Chili’s while we waited for Christy’s flight to arrive.  Then, we hopped in our rental car (a Charger – why on earth didn’t I take a picture of that?) and used my awesome phone’s GPS to navigate to the island, which was about a 45-minute drive.

 

 

 

 

We stayed at the Hilton Resort, and all of the staff were extremely friendly and attentive, from the valet who welcomed us, to the bellhop who attended us and upgraded our room (and our view) simply because we asked nicely.  We immediately threw the balcony doors open and took a breath of fresh ocean air.

 

 

Heather and Christy had made plans for dinner Friday night before I joined the trip, so I decided to use the time for a walk along the beach.  All I had to do was step out the back door of the hotel to get to the beach:

 

 

The sand was actually more shells than sand, so I was glad to have my flip-flops, but I did slip them off long enough to walk barefoot through the surf.  I explored until it was time for sunset, and then I went camera crazy, snapping photos from various locations I had scoped out beforehand.  The beach was not nearly as crowded as I expected (especially for sunset), but I did find a few couples to incorporate into my photographs.  And yes, as I hinted with one of the pictures below, I did take some time to just sit in the sand and watch the sun dropping down towards the ocean.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After sunset, I wandered up the street by the hotel looking for some dinner.  Nothing jumped out at me except for the fact that I was tired from very little sleep the night before and my feet were starting to hurt, so I just went back to the hotel to relax for the evening.  Heather and Christy were kind enough to bring some food back for me, and we hit the sack to rest up for the long day ahead.

 

Once we finally got up on Saturday and checked to see when Terri would be arriving, we decided to head out to the beach.  I am honestly not that much of a beach person, but since most of my trips keep me going non-stop, trying to see all the sights and make the most of every moment, I must say that it was wonderful to simply lay on the beach, soak up the sun, listen to some Ryan Adams, and watch the waves.  So, most of my view Saturday afternoon was this:

 

 

Terri arrived at the hotel a bit frazzled from her trip, but just in time to get some beach time before we all started getting ready for Saturday night’s dinner at Bistro Soliel (at the Historic Olde Marco Inn).  It was a dressier affair, so I’d like to take this moment to give a shout-out to my awesome friend Jessica who loaned me her LBD (little black dress).  I got several compliments on it!

 

We were at a VIP table with John Driscoll, a fellow Virginian and an all-around likable guy.  He just scored a great gig on The Young and the Restless, which he was supposed to be keeping under wraps.  He quickly realized that, thanks to the internet, we knew more about his forthcoming job than he did!  We enjoyed dinner (which I must say was delicious) and got a chance to mingle around the room a bit.

 

 

Beth Ehlers (formerly of GL, now of AMC, and one of my lifelong favorite actresses) flagged me down from the next table over to say hello.  We kept trying to catch up, but a lot of fans were coming up to her, so we decided to try again later!

 

 

After dinner, there was a Q&A session and an auction.  Earlier that day, the actors had volunteered their time to paint with some of the children, and the resulting artwork was up for bid.  Most of the paintings (by autistic children of all ages) were quite good, even if they were of rainbows or fish or flowers.  Some of the paintings were downright impressive, but one in particular (of Wolverine) went above and beyond:

 

 

I didn’t bid on anything because I didn’t have the extra money, and most everything went for several hundred dollars if not into the $1000 range.  Many of the actors bid personally, which was generous since all of the money was going to such a great cause.  Some of the children were even present to display their paintings, and of course garnered hearty applause from the audience – and loosened some purse strings as well.  Thorsten Kaye sent bids soaring high for Ricky Paull Goldin’s jacket (which he wore as Gus on GL), and won it.  His design is to use it to taunt Ricky, who is quite a bit smaller than Thorsten.  I hope to hear about the “part two” of that particular story.

 

Brown Shirt Man (who I met in Las Vegas back in 2005 and is infamous to my long-time blog readers) caught sight of me during the auction, so afterward I went over to say hello to him.  He was as charming as ever, of course.   I also said hello to Trent Dawson and talked to him briefly before we left to go back to the hotel to change clothes and head out again.

 

Since we called for the car around 11:45, our valet smiled and said, “See you tomorrow, ladies!”  It was good that we (and by we, I mean everybody but Terri!) got a lot of sleep the night before, because I am certainly no longer used to the night life!  Nonetheless, we headed for Almost Famous Mel’s Smokehouse and BBQ for the Celebrity Bartender Bash.  That event was a lot of fun, even if it was SO HOT in the building.  We chose a cooler corner and stayed in it – unless, of course, the DJ played a great song and we (mostly I) felt compelled to dance.  On the dance floor, I remembered why it is great to be one of the few sober people at the bar – you can watch everyone else make complete fools of themselves, and still remember all of it the next day!  Among the fun – me and several gay men dancing to Love Shack, and a loud, profanity-laden tirade from a girl who was supposed to be passing out shots, but instead stopped to entertain (and perhaps you could say “assault”) us with her story of how she “voted black” but then apparently realized afterwards that she did not like anything Obama was doing.  (Side note: this is why it is usually a good idea to, you know, VOTE ON THE ISSUES and research the candidates so you don’t have a rude awakening six months after you vote black/white/woman/hope/change.)  She also regaled us with stories of her home country, Australia, and her hometown, Detroit.  (Yes, as in Michigan.  Go figure that one.)  And after twenty minutes of yelling (10 minutes of which could have been eliminated if she had cut out all use of the F-word), she announced, “This is why I am joining the Navy and becoming a minister.”  I could no longer restrain myself and cracked up laughing.  I bet she still has a headache from that hangover.

 

All things considered, we had a wonderful time.  I finally did get to catch up with Beth Ehlers for a few minutes.  I must say – she seems happier than ever, so I am happy for her.  I met some new friends – Cheryl and Tommy – who Heather and Christy had dinner with on Friday night.  Together, we had a great time, a LOT of laughs, and spent some more time with John Driscoll, Trent Dawson, Austin Peck, and Jeff Branson (Brown Shirt Man).  Aaaaaand, Terri discovered that despite her valiant efforts to sway him, Brown Shirt Man is still mine all mine. *grin*

 

 

 

We ended up closing down the place, and we had all passed the point of exhaustion, which as you know, leads directly to giddy, so we sat up for a while at the hotel eating 5 varieties of pretzels and having ridiculous conversations.  I was the first one to fall asleep just before 4am, so we started Sunday with a lot less energy than we had the day before!

 

To counteract the problem, Heather, Christy, and I headed to one of their favorite diners for a protein-powered breakfast to face the day.  Terri stayed behind to pack up, because she was going to head back to the airport that afternoon.  (Talk about a whirlwind trip!)

 

We set sail at noon on the Marco Island Princess for a cruise around the island.  This was the third and final “event” of the weekend.  I am not sure what the final count was for money raised, but if anybody knows, please pass it along!  With just a cursory count in my head, the dinner and the cruise alone brought in several thousand dollars just during the auctions, and I have no idea how much the bar event brought in, depending on how much people were drinking, I suppose!  (I was not drinking, but I did shake my moneymaker!  So, I was doing my part!  HAHAHAHA!)

 

The cruise was really lovely.  Heather secured us a table in “prime real estate” (as John put it) on the upper deck corner of the boat.  We were still out of the sun for the most part (since Christy and I are fair-skinned), but we were in the best place to catch a breeze, take in the view, and chat with everyone who passed by there at some point throughout the afternoon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heather bid in the auction on the boat and won the painting that John did with a little girl named Tierney.  I totally stole this picture from her album from the weekend, but since I took the picture, I think that makes it OK:

 

 

After the cruise finished, we had to say goodbye to Terri so she could head back to the airport, and Heather, Christy, and I were once again on our own.

 

 

We were also exhausted, so we decided to get some rest.  I decided to go sprawl out on the beach with my iPod again, and Heather and Christy rested in the room for a while before heading out on shell-hunting and picture-taking expeditions, respectively.

 

Afterward, they introduced me to strombolis at a local pizzeria with a very attractive waiter, and then we went on another photo-op tour together.  This was mostly for my benefit – and my love of fountains – and I was oh-so-grateful.

 

 

 

 

 

By that time, we had enough room to go by the Cold Stone Creamery for dessert.  Christy does not have an ice cream shop of that nature in her hometown, so that is a bit of a tradition, too.  We were wiped out from the day once again, so we retired to our room, packed our bags, and got some much-needed rest.

 

Monday morning, we still got to sleep in since we’d done much of our packing the night before, and we spent a little time out on the balcony before checking out and heading back toward the airport.

 

 

We arrived in time to have lunch together at Chili’s before going our separate ways.

 

 

My trip home went very well.  I arrived at the gate at Ft. Myers just as my plane was boarding, and despite having to run through the Charlotte airport from Concourse B to the far off corner of Gate E32b, I still arrived at my gate just in time to board for home – even with stopping in the main terminal to take this photo.  (Yes, I do love Jeff Gordon.)

 

 

Mom picked me up at the airport at home, and I was back in my apartment shortly past 5:30 on Monday.  I loved my trip, but there is always something comforting about being back home!

Maybe I’m Not Up For Being a Victim of Love

I am usually not big on telling all my business.  Hence, my blog is typically rife with humorous anecdotes or general opinions about life, but I rarely dispel my innermost thoughts and feelings.  Back when the “25 Random Things” bit was making the rounds on Facebook, I did my part for the fad and contributed my list, wherein I confessed the following:

 

18.  I filled out the free eHarmony personality profile to see what it would say about me, only to realize later that the only thing it really said was: You are alone.

 

Jessica, Kelli, and perhaps a few others knew that I did that (prior to me posting it on Facebook, obviously), and Kelli even helped me fill the thing out.  Everybody had been prodding me to sign up for eHarmony – you know, since I’m single and approaching ancient – but I resisted the peer pressure.  So, to quell the protests, I filled out the profile, had an emotional breakdown, and then forgot all about it a few days later.

 

Then, just before Valentine’s Day weekend, eHarmony started emailing me like crazy to advertise their “Free Communication” weekend.  On those few days, people who are not members (i.e. have not shelled out their life savings to eHarmony) can talk to their “matches” for free.  You still can’t see pictures unless you pay, but you can at least talk to other people.

 

For those who are unaware, let me give a little rundown on how eHarmony basically works:

 

·          You fill out your Personality Profile (which is free, as I mentioned) and answer about a million questions about yourself.  It’s mostly “on a scale of 1 to 10” kind of stuff, and some sections ask you to select from a list of adjectives or qualities that describe yourself or how you think others see you.  You also answer questions like, “how often do you drink/smoke/etc.?” followed by how often you would accept those things in a prospective match.  You can even select which religions you’d be OK getting matched with, and you can narrow that down to particular denominations if you choose.  You choose an age range, and how far you’re willing to go for love (100 miles, a particular state or group of states, or even which countries, up to the whole world).  These answers go into some kind of compatibility algorithm, and you start to get “matched.”  Since I wasn’t really seriously considering it, I set my parameters to the whole world, and I had to turn matching off because I was getting so many emails.

 

·         Once you decide to peruse your matches, you immediately see names, ages, and locations.  Then, you can click on a link to go and view that person’s profile and any pictures they have uploaded (providing you are a paying member, of course).  Some of the answers from the personality profile are automatically loaded in, like “The Four Things Your Friends Say About You” or “What are three of your best life-skills?”  Others are sections that you actually have to fill in, like a questionnaire (i.e. “What are you most passionate about?”, “What are the three things for which you are most thankful?” “What is the first thing people notice about you?”, “Describe the last book that you read and enjoyed?” and so on.)

 

·         If you decide this person strikes your fancy, then you can communicate.  (If not, you close the match and choose a reason why from the list.  Just don’t put “Other” as your reason, because I’m pretty sure that means, “I think you’re butt-ugly.”)  If you do communicate, you have your choice of “Guided Communication” or a “Fast Track.”  With “Fast Track,” you basically just jump right into sending emails back and forth (on the eHarmony server).  Most users have their preference listed as “Guided Communication,” which means that you begin by choosing 5 multiple choice questions from a list to send to your match.  If they respond, you can read their responses and then answer their 5 questions in return.  After that, you go into essay-type questions, and then on to email.  There are options for a secure phone call, too, where you can talk to your matches without divulging your personal contact information.  At any point during the communication, if you decide this isn’t the one for you, you can close the match and give your multiple-choice reason.  The other person then has an opportunity to send one final communication, and that’s the end of it.  Nice and tidy.

 

Now, during the free communication weekend, I was just tinkering around, so I sent out the 5 questions to everybody on my match list (unless their profile was particularly heinous).  I got some responses, but there’s not a lot you can do in two days unless you happen to be communicating with someone who lives on their computer.  I was at my apartment on Sunday night (and the free communication cut off at midnight), so I checked eHarmony via my cell phone.  Someone was trying to communicate with me, so I played along and realized that you can really fly through the guided communication in an hour or so if you’re both online, but given the nature of the questions, you really don’t know anything more about the person than you did when you read the profile.  In the emailing stage, it was about 5 minutes till midnight, so I told the guy that I was not a member and had no intention of becoming one.  He asked how he could contact me, and I gave him my IM screen name.

 

WELL.  By Monday morning when he IMed me (and bear in mind that we’d only just “met” at about 10pm on Sunday), he was ready to ride off into the sunset.  More particularly, he was ready to drive up to Virginia (from about 3 hours away in NC) to spend time with me.  Oh!  And he wondered if it would be OK if he stayed with me.  Naturally, I said “yes, by all means” and we were married on Tuesday and have been living secretly happily ever after for these last few months.

 

Either that, or I turned to Kelli and said, “Holy crap.  This dude is freakin’ insane.  What am I supposed to do now?”  She suggested I tell him that he’s a psycho and this is why he couldn’t get a girl, and while she is usually the more tender-hearted one in our office, I felt bad about the prospect of hurting his feelings.  So, I tried to back him off gently by saying I wasn’t in any hurry and that, in all my previous relationships, things had developed very slowly from friendship to something more, and I felt that was the best way.  He did not see the point of that at all, but it still took me a few days to shake him off completely.  (It was like “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” – I kept acting crazier and crazier, and yet he would not be moved.)  I think I finally convinced him I was a hopeless commitment-phobic and he wished me good luck in the future and moved on to the next unsuspecting soul.

 

That was the end of my eHarmony experience for a while.  Kelli and Jessica did not want me to be deterred.  They both said I just so happened to get one of the few crazy people, and I should not let that discourage me.  Nevertheless, I remained skeptical and disinterested.  Then, I got another of those eHarmony “You know you’re lonely and hopeless, so please sign up” emails.  This one offered a very steep discount for a month-long membership.  (Ordinarily, you could probably purchase a spouse from overseas for less than the cost of a membership to eHarmony.)

 

Without telling anyone, I decided to check out eHarmony for a month at the discounted rate.  Partly, I was curious about how it worked.  And partly, I was afraid that everybody was right and I was destined to find the love of my life on this stupid website, and that if I didn’t try it, I would indeed become the old maid my mother has always insisted I would be.  I didn’t tell anyone because, for one, I didn’t really want to have to explain that I failed miserably, and for two, if I did happen to meet someone, I would not have told a soul about that until three weeks after the wedding.  And then I would have concocted some grandiose story about how we met that had absolutely nothing to do with the internet.

 

The timing of my experiment was a bit unfortunate.  Given the complete disintegration of every seemingly-stable marriage around me, my general outlook on love and happily-ever-after was pretty jaded.  So, essentially, I figured I was looking for which guy I would most like to rip my heart out and stomp on it.

 

I significantly reduced the distance I was willing to go to meet these folks, but my number of matches was still overwhelming, since I rarely logged in to check them.  So basically, I decided that I would look at profiles as time allowed, but I was not going to be proactive about contacting any of them.  After all, as Stu Weber wrote, “Masculinity means initiation,” and I most certainly cannot be with some timid little girly-man.  So, I decided that, for me, if these men didn’t have the gumption to initiate communication with me, then I did not desire to talk with them.

 

Unfortunately, most of the men who did contact me were not ones I wanted to talk to, based on their profiles.  Not to worry, when I closed the matches, I said it was because I was “pursuing another relationship,” because I figured that’s the least disheartening of the choices.  After all, they just got there a little too late, right?  And technically, I am pursuing another relationship – it’s just not with them, and not in the near future.

 

My little experiment did serve to reinforce the realization that I am a very picky person.  My friends tease me about it, but seriously – it takes me months of deliberation to buy a new pair of shoes, so how much more difficult is it going to be for me to find a man I really think I could stand to be around FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?  That is a really long time.  (At least I hope it is.)

 

For one thing, if the profile was full of misspelled words and bad grammar, they were pretty much getting the axe.  Everybody who knows me knows how I feel about that kind of thing anyway, but it’s not like I refuse to be friends (or more) with people who don’t excel in that area.  What I do take issue with is that this online profile is the one and only way that this person is introducing themselves to me.  It would be like getting a job resume with misspelled words and grammatical errors – there is no sense in that.  So, needless to say, the guy who wrote, “I am not conceded, but I am confident,” was not on the top of my list.  Same goes for the man who had “a since of accomplishment.”

 

There were also profiles written in ALL CAPS WHICH IS TOTALLY ANNOYING AND COMPLETELY LACKING IN ETIQUETTE and others who apparently had a broken “Shift” key.  Why would you not even capitalize your name, for goodness’ sake?!?

 

I was also less than impressed by profiles where every essay-style answer was covered in just a few words – maybe not even a full sentence.  The idea is to get a little snapshot of the person’s personality – a point which some of the men obviously missed.  For example, “Gonna have to find out” is not an acceptable answer to any question on the eHarmony profile.

 

Despite the simple human instinct that we all have (myself included), I tried not to do too much “judging a book by the cover” once I could see the profile pictures.  Still, I scoffed at the people who uploaded (as their one and only profile picture) a group shot of ten people.  I could barely see anyone, and even if I could, how was I supposed to know which was the guy?  I am pleased to say that I did not run across any profiles where the person googled for “male model” to swipe a photo.  And any guys who posted gratuitous pictures of themselves flexing in a mirror definitely went on the Heck No List.  As for the 30-year old (yes, I said 30!) whose only photo was his high school senior picture, bow-tie and all…I mean, really?  Seriously?  That’s the best picture you could come up with?

 

As far as the rest of the profiles, some things raised my red flags and sent some men to the chopping block.  For instance, if the last “book” you read and enjoyed was Maxim, you are probably not the man for me.  I also have no desire to date a “huge Journey fan” whose favorite books are that Obama book and “Marley and Me.” REALLY?!?

 

Any profile that contained the word “golf” more than ten times was a no-go.  To the guy who said “I will rock your socks off,” I say, “No, indeed you will not.”  I rolled my eyes at Mr. “Live while you love, love while you live.”  And I wasn’t terribly excited to get to know the guy who kept talking about his “brother from another mother.”

 

Another common point of contention:  While I may have had my doubts about men who listed Van Halen or “My big screen TV named Bob” under the 5 Things they couldn’t live without, I could at least appreciate the honesty, even if I questioned their life choices.  However, I do not understand why SO many “5 things” lists read like this:

 

1.        God

2.       Jesus

3.       The Holy Spirit

4.       Prayer

5.       Church

 

Ho-kay.  So you’re a big ol’ Christian.  Good for you.  I think that is somewhat inherent in this whole eHarmony thing, but hey – I definitely want someone who is firm in their faith.  I do NOT, however, want a guy who is so obviously beefing up his profile with as much religious mumbo jumbo as possible, in the hopes that will increase his chances of getting a girl.  There was plenty of room in the other questions to make it clear that God was my top priority.  I didn’t answer every single question to show how pious I am – I answered them to give a little bit of insight into who I am as a person beyond that.  For comparison, my five things I “can’t live without” were listed as follows:

 

1.       Music (and an iPod to hold it all)

2.       TV on DVD

3.       My car

4.       Water bottles (which I refill and freeze)

5.       Pasta

 

Sure, I can’t live without God, much like I can’t live without oxygen and my brain and a million other common sense answers.  I just didn’t feel the need to say that in every other sentence.  It has been my general experience that people who do nothing but talk about how holy they are ALL THE TIME are really anything but, and I have had enough false piety to last a lifetime.

 

When my month was over, I was honestly relieved to be done with it.  I felt as though I had checked something off my to-do list.  So, the next time someone suggests I try eHarmony (or the like), I can say “been there, done that” and know I’m not missing anything.

 

My friends tell me that God is not going to send the man of my dreams to my front door wrapped in a bow with a card that says “From: God,” but hey — He could if He wanted to!  And while I do not expect anything that obvious, I guess God will send the right person along when it’s the right time.  I do sometimes worry that it will never be the right time, but I guess that doesn’t exactly help anything, does it?

 

All of my previous relationships have come as a huge shock to me, and in every case, God was in control and I learned a lot about myself through those experiences.  I also learned that there are some really great guys out there, because I’ve dated some of them, and I am certainly not going to downgrade!

 

I am sure that many people have gone on to find great happiness at eHarmony, and I am thrilled for them.  (Provided, of course, that they do not come anywhere near me with their sickening lovey-dovey crap.)  It just so happens that eHarmony is not the solution for me.  I have a better chance of finding the man of my dreams gift-wrapped at my front door.

Flooding Me With Their Fallacies

This article crossed my desk today and I found it very interesting.  It is always encouraging to see non-religious groups popping up and using simple logic to backup biblical principles — even if that is not their intent. 

I guess even at Ivy League schools, there are students who don’t appreciate being “indoctrinated” by a liberal agenda – even though that word is generally reserved for pointing fingers at the conservative, Bible-believing crowd.

It occurs to me that there was once a time when scientists believed the world was flat, even though the Bible states otherwise.  Perhaps one day we will all learn to put a little more stock in what’s written in those ancient pages.

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Collegiate Sex-Ed
Ryan T. Anderson, The Witherspoon Institute
February 03, 2009

Every fall, kids arrive on college campuses and learn that their basic moral intuitions on sexual matters don’t square with the reigning ideas. Thanks to debased campus culture and overreaching on the part of administrators and professors, students are beginning to respond systematically—and they’re having an impact. Here’s how.

No two undergraduate experiences are quite the same. But the undergraduate years are marked by certain commonalities: students are challenged intellectually, socially, and ethically. Long-held beliefs are forced to submit to rational scrutiny. No longer is “that’s just the way we do it” or “that’s just the way I feel about the issue” sufficient. In philosophy classrooms and biology labs, students are expected to slough off the opinions they held in their pre-critical-thinking days and adopt the conclusions of the best arguments. Everything is to be tested, and only the rationally defensible is to be retained.

Most students arrive at college knowing few, if any, of their classmates. Navigating the maze of social expectations and the ensuing climbing of social ladders in a community of strangers, students are forced to ask themselves questions: what type of a person am I; what type do I want to become; and with what type do I want to become friends? For many, this explicit self-examination and social-selection—choosing which finite group of people to befriend from a seemingly limitless pool of possibilities—is a first-time experience. In grade school, junior high, and high school, such choices weren’t quite as necessary—there were certain cliques and people just naturally fell into place. Get to college and you get to reinvent yourself—you have to define yourself one way or another.

No longer living under their parents’ roof, no longer in a supportive school, neighborhood, or church community, students no longer have external supports encouraging them to strive to meet the demands of ethical living—and holding them accountable when they fail. Instead, they find themselves subjected to new forms of pressure: a campus culture that demands conformity as the price of social acceptance, a professoriate that preaches new ethical dogmas, and administrators whose policies recognize no values but legality, liability, and physical health. It’s easy to see how otherwise virtuous students can begin to go astray—and how those already set on a bad path from high school have little hope of reforming themselves.

Yet most students arrive at college completely unaware of the patterns of life that await them. The fact is that many unsuspecting freshmen innocently join sports teams, enter into Greek life, and otherwise expect to lead active social lives, but have little idea of what sexual expectations are awaiting. Once seduced into the campus culture, they find it hard to break free. Even if dissatisfied and unfulfilled, they assume the problem is with them, not the culture. And for those who resist it from the get-go, it’s unclear what the alternative is.

Apart from some religious campuses and religious enclaves on secular campuses, the late teens and early twenties are a bit of a wandering. Sex is to be expected, but with no expectation of commitment, never mind marriage. Those desiring an alternative have no example to look to, no role-models to emulate. Gone are the days of courtship. Gone are the days of dating as an explicit preparation for marriage. Gone are the days of using one’s late adolescence and early adulthood to form the habits, the stable dispositions, the virtues required for healthy male-female relationships—both friendships and marriage. Instead, exploitation looms large. And most marriages fail.

But it only gets worse. Campus officials in lecture halls and administrative offices, rather than challenging debased campus culture, actually aid and abet it. “Abstinence education?” That’s a scientifically disproven method of avoiding pregnancy and disease. A pill and a latex sheath is all you need. “Chastity?” Hardly a virtue, the best moral philosophy and clinical psychology tell us that it’s a vice—an unhealthy attitude of repressing sexual desire, hating one’s body, and viewing sex as dirty. Courtship, dating, marriage, and then sex? All you need are consenting adults (in any number or pairings) to have good sex. And marriage is an outdated ideal anyway.

Most won’t buy that last argument—they still long for a marital relationship, of some sort, at some point. But they don’t know how to get there or what to do now. And anyone entering the secular academy holding anything resembling traditional Judeo-Christian views about sex, marriage, and the human family had better be prepared to meet the challenging questions coming his or her way. Why not pornography and masturbation as an alternative outlet to rape? Why not some pre-marital sex and cohabitation as a means of better getting to know one another, to see if you can live together before the wedding vows, to see if you’re sexually compatible before the wedding night? And even if not as preparation for marriage, why not hook-up just as a sign of temporary affection, and, well, because it’s fun, enjoyable, pleasurable?

Yet it’s not just the hook-up culture. If you think men and women are equal in dignity yet distinct and complementary, bringing unique and special gifts to bear on all aspects of life, expect to be called a sexist. If you think mothering and fathering are different, “parenting” in the abstract doesn’t exist as such, expect to be met with hostility. And if you’re at an Ivy League University and intend on being a mom first and foremost, expect to be told that you’re going to waste your education.

But the worst of all university dogmas to reject is the goodness and worth of the homosexual lifestyle. You think two men or two women can’t legitimately enter into a loving and committed relationship? Well, you’re no better than the bigots who opposed interracial marriage. You think a homosexual orientation is intrinsically disordered and homosexual acts are objectively immoral? Can you say “homophobia”? And good luck if you’re someone who experiences same-sex attractions but doesn’t desire to be gay. You will be labeled as self-loathing.

From liberal dogmas on homosexuality to liberationist agendas on sex, feminism and marriage, from the social pressures put on guys and girls to be sexually active to the resulting pornography, masturbation, alcohol, and body-image problems—college campuses aren’t a pretty sight.

After my own four years as an undergraduate at Princeton, the problem was readily apparent to me, and a potential remedy seemed worth trying: rather than cowering away from the liberal orthodoxy on human sexuality, why don’t we subject it to intense, critical, rational scrutiny, expose it as intellectually wanting, and build a social network to oppose it?

February 2005 saw the launch of a new student group at Princeton, the Elizabeth Anscombe Society, named for the famed Cambridge philosophy professor, star student and successor of Ludwig Wittgenstein, and intellectual defender of traditional sexual ethics. The Anscombe Society set for itself a lofty mission:
 
We aim to foster an atmosphere where sex is dignified, respectful, and beautiful; where human relationships are affirming and supportive; where motherhood is not put at odds with feminism; and where no one is objectified, instrumentalized, or demeaned. We aim to increase the level of respect among members of the university community who disagree on these issues as we explore our common understandings as well as our differences. Lastly, we hope to provide those students who strive to understand, live, and love their commitment to chastity and ‘traditional’ sexual and familial ethics with the support they need to make their time at Princeton the best it can be.
 
The students who formed the Anscombe Society were tired of being subjected to a dehumanizing campus culture and hoped to point to an alternative, more excellent way. They were tired of the one-sided presentation of academic arguments related to marriage and family life—biased syllabi inside the classroom and monolithic student groups outside the classroom—and so they hoped to balance the intellectual conversation. Lastly, they were tired of an administration that absurdly claimed to be morally neutral when it came to matters of sexuality while consistently promoting liberal and liberationist sexual policies. They were determined to hold the administration accountable and seek change.

To achieve these ends, the Anscombe Society followed a three-pronged approach.

First and foremost, as a group at an academic institution and as heirs of Anscombe’s legacy, the Anscombe Society was about ideas—the give and take of reasons, the making and countering of arguments. Too often the academy has its own orthodoxy on issues of sexuality, and the prevailing orthodoxies are treated as immune from challenge. In classrooms, administrative offices, student groups, and student publications, an unquestionable dogma had been established. The Anscombe Society, through guest lecturers, newspaper op-eds, and discussion groups, provided serious and respectful academic responses and counter-arguments. The scholars they brought to campus to give public lectures made the intellectual case for a traditional conception of human sexuality and the human family from a multi- and inter-disciplinary perspective that drew on outstanding scholarly works of philosophy, theology, ethics, biology, medicine, psychiatry, psychology, economics, and sociology. They created an academic database on their website with the best articles from these same disciplines.

Now, the practical reality on most college campuses is that the main attacks on traditional sexual morality come from the constant onslaught of same-sex marriage advocates and feminists. Just from the need to play defense, these became central issues of response. For a student arriving on campus with basically sound intuitions about these issues—that there’s something to the fact that we come as male and female, something about our sexual differentiation that matters, and something about male and female forming husbands and wives to become fathers and mothers that mattered—but who couldn’t articulate a robust response to the campus LGBT and feminist groups or their ethics and politics professors, the Anscombe Society offered much-needed intellectual support. These students aren’t bigots. These students aren’t misogynists. But those are the charges you’d get if you voiced traditional thoughts on these issues on many elite secular college campuses today.

As the defense of traditional marriage was made, it quickly became apparent that the argument only runs as a conclusion from the underlying principle—virtue—of chastity. And so the Anscombe Society quickly began shifting from just a response to same-sex marriage and anti-feminine feminism to a whole-hearted proposal of chaste relationships as the most fulfilling. The Anscombe Society was committed to presenting the fullness of truth when it came to the intellectual case for the human family. (With one notable exception, the group abstained from taking a position on the issue of contraception.) Intellectual arguments—that was the first prong.

Second, but equally important given the social realities on college campuses, the Anscombe Society set out to form a supportive community. If you’re one of the few who is personally committed to living a chaste life, you can often feel quite alone on a college campus. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not as if everyone is having sex all the time. But it changes the way you approach considering even the possibility of dating at college if you think that all of your potential suitors will eventually get to the point where they’re expecting sexual favors from you. As a result, many chaste students just withdraw. Part of it is that they simply don’t know who the other like-minded students are; part of it is that they think their ideals are outdated on campus, so they never speak up about them—and other like-minded students do the same. And so they never know how many of them are really out there. The Anscombe Society wanted to bring this closeted community out into the open—to get people to meet and know each other, and to provide alternative social activities for those students who didn’t quite enjoy the usual weekend scene of drunken debauchery. One of the best ideas they had was holding a reception for students sponsored by the faculty who affirmed the virtue of chastity and traditional marriage. Robert George, a professor in Princeton’s Politics department, took the lead in hosting the event. The first year there were eight faculty co-hosts. This past year, just four years later, there were just under twenty—even among the professoriate they don’t know how many of them are out there.

The third task was to provide assistance to those students who needed help in meeting the ethical goals they had set for themselves. This proved to be too ambitious, demanding, and technical for a mere student group. Addictions to pornography, body-image problems, same-sex attractions, usually require professional assistance. Not surprisingly, that’s why Princeton has an LGBT Center, a Women’s Center, and various other special centers with full-time staff people to meet the needs of students. Nothing like that exists for students taking the other side of the moral divide on these questions. At Princeton, the Anscombe Society is negotiating establishment such a center right now.

Predictably, a group like this starting at an Ivy League university made waves. At first it was treated as a novelty. Then some people were threatened by the existence of the group; others were shocked that Princeton would allow a group that held “homophobic” and “anti-woman” views. But within the first couple of months the media started paying attention. Reports began to run in the New York Times, on Jay Leno, and in various social conservative publications and TV shows. The most unusual thing reporters noted about the group was that it wasn’t religious—the students thought reason was on their side.

Along with the media attention came interest from students at other campuses who wanted to start up similar groups. We readily assisted them. Over time it became clear that this assistance couldn’t continue on an informal level, and we organized a 501c3 non-profit group to help provide material support for the groups, and two years ago we hired a full-time employee to launch a national organization called the Love and Fidelity Network that would begin planting similar groups on university campuses in order to create a national network. This fall the Love and Fidelity Network held their first annual conference. A hundred students from twenty schools—including Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Brown, Dartmouth, Columbia, and Cornell—attended. America’s leading scholars on these issues made presentations.

All of that said, there are important lessons to be learned about starting an Anscombe Society. There are pitfalls and mistakes to avoid, based on how similar groups at other campuses have been launched or what a previous model looked like prior to the advent of Anscombe at Princeton.
 
1. Avoid anything that is too touchy-feely, too cutsey, too first-person personal, confessional, or self-referential. This is to be a serious group of serious ideas.

2. Avoid anything resembling chastity pledges, vows, or rings.

3. Do not sacrifice integrity to numbers. Softening your positions on various controversial issues in an attempt to drive up membership numbers defeats the entire purpose of a group like this. The goal isn’t to be popular; the goal is to provide a robust account of the more excellent way.

4. Be religion-friendly but do not be founded on religious premises or arguments. The purpose of a group like the Anscombe Society is to explain how traditional conceptions of the family and the role of sex within the family are more humanly fulfilling. Focusing on the human sciences—philosophy, sociology, psychology, medicine, biology, law, economics, political theory, etc.—should suffice.

5. Remember the doctrine of the mean: the virtuous positions lies between two vices on either extreme. As such, don’t overreact. Don’t respond to campus culture by going too far in the other direction and returning us to aspects of a previous age that have rightly been left behind. Consider three examples:

   a. Sticking with the above: you don’t need to be secularist or anti-religion. There are good theological reasons for the traditional family—and you can include theological reasons as one among many. For example, a panel on religious reasons from across the traditions (Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, etc.) would be effective.

   b. Speaking truth in love on the issue of homosexuality is very difficult. There is the temptation to water-down the truth or to express it in a non-loving way. Anti-gay bigotry is real. It is to be avoided.

   c. Forcing women back into the home, barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen is not the proper response to the Ivy League professor who looks at you incredulously when you tell her that the most important thing in your life is the desire to be a good mom. Finding creative ways to merge your vocation as mother and vocation as scholar, lawyer, doctor, etc. is the way to go. Modern work schedules and professional life were largely formed around gender arrangements from a time long-ago, and they need not be retained. This is the work for the new feminism.

6. Preaching to the choir is not the same as intellectual engagement with campus culture. There is a time and a place for building up the base and equipping the students with basically sound dispositions with solid argumentation. There is also a need to be provocative and shake other students out of their complacent acceptance of liberal dogma. Finding ways to do this and to meet people where they are is key. The goal is securing intellectual and moral conversion.

7. The focus should be on marriage, not chastity. If people ask, “what’s the Anscombe Society all about,” the answer they should get is: “promoting stable and healthy marriages.” Chastity is the virtue that fosters this—both before and during, both inside and outside of marriage. Emphasize the end goal—the good—that you seek to promote.
 

The future for groups like these is bright. In response to debased campus culture coupled with overreaching on the part of administrators and professors, students are beginning to respond systematically—and they’re having an impact. I don’t foresee the basic situation changing in the near-term. We’ll continue to have basically decent kids come to college with basically sound intuitions, and then they’ll be bombarded with alternative messages. The need is to equip them with arguments to know that their basic gut instinct about Adam and Steve is correct; that wanting to have a family and be a mom and be educated is OK. The need is to create alternative environments to counter the cultural pressures that can lead passion to override reason, to form communities of virtue.

But meeting this challenge will not be easy. Survey data on the next generation shows views on the family and sexuality that are quite at odds with the vision of Elizabeth Anscombe. To persuade this generation of the truths Anscombe defended, we’ll need a new generation of scholars, from all the academic disciplines, willing to turn their scholarship toward defending the human family and the principles of morality that protect it and the virtues that sustain it. Given our academic setting, it’s fair to encourage all students, especially graduate students, to consider devoting their research to these issues. And professors shouldn’t be afraid to speak out. Elizabeth Anscombe certainly wasn’t.

Ryan T. Anderson is editor of Public Discourse: Ethics, Law, and the Common Good <http://www.thepublicdiscourse.com> . This essay is adapted from a paper presented at the annual conference of the Center for Ethics and Culture at the University of Notre Dame. Copyright 2009 the Witherspoon Institute <http://www.winst.org> . All rights reserved.