About something. – Page 7

Stop taking yourself so facetiously

In generations past, people were told to stop taking themselves so seriously. I think we millennials have taken the idea so seriously to not take ourselves seriously that we have driven ourselves into the other ditch – we see ourselves as jokes, and want to make sure everyone else does, too.

IMG_20170911_135411 — Okay okay, I lolzed at this. But also—- go apply for a job you lazy millenial!!

I think a lot of it may do with the kind of overwhelming crappiness of our times and growing connectivity with the rest of the world – we see ourselves as tiny little specs of dust in this huge dust storm of humanity that’s being driven by uncontrollable winds of huge corporations, insane political figures, and fidget spinners. So, we retreat, make memes, and giggle our way through every situation.

I’m kinda writing this about my not-so-distant-past self. I got pretty caught up in the “FML” culture of PhD students – a kind of ironic learned helplessness. There’s something pride-zapping about making poverty-line wages and having your research projects fall way short of your expectations that can drive even the most Pollyanna of us all into self-deprecating pessimism.

And look, I’m all for a good lolz. But they can be taken too far. Sometimes you need to take yourself seriously enough to take a shower, put on some nice clothes, and actually try, ya know?

I say all this coming out of a successful post-doc interview. I was gratified by how much they.. respected.. yes, respected!! me and my dissertation work! The whole experience made me realize that I use sarcastic, self-deprecating humor as a shield against expectations. I didn’t want to disappoint people, so I made sure they kept their expectations low so I wouldn’t have to deal with their disappointment or be assigned more responsibility. #realtalk

But yeah.. this past week has opened my eyes to my own value in my field. It’s scurry, but I actually have the potential to bring some good to the world through my research. Eeks!

So, I know most of you aren’t in PhD world, but I think this could apply in a lot of situations. Being a mom, for instance, is huge. I’m sure getting spit-up on and getting into intense arguments with 4 yr olds isn’t always validating, but you have this unbelievable influence in how a real life human being sees the world! That’s really not small. For realz.

(This is getting a little ramble-y, but I blame it on the ferocious winds of Irma whirling my brain to and fro’. #science)

My point is – don’t discount yourself, kid! Lolz it up, but don’t lolz yourself into a false sense of insignificance.

..Unless you just want to be insignificant, and then I guarantee you that you will succeed in that 😏

*Gallosmoochies*

The kind of man it feels good to be around

This is a simple idea, so I apologize if your mind isn’t blown to the same degree that it usually is after reading a Galloblog – but hopefully your mind is at least poofed.

Lately I’ve been falling asleep to one of my favoritest songs in the whole world – Ashley McBryde’s daddy love song, Bible and a .44. (It sounds like a crazed redneck song, but it’s actually heart-achingly sweet.) Anyway, one line of that song that jumps out to me every time I hear it is “[he’s] the kind of man it feels good to be around.”

(These sort of simple, beautiful, strangely profound lyrics are why I love country music, despite recent assaults on its dignity by Florida Georgia Line, Luke Bryan, Jason Aldean, etc.)

One reason why those lyrics strike me is that I immediately think of the men in my fam – my Dad, my Grandpa, my Grandaddy, brother, uncles, cousins.. They really do feel good to be around, and it hurts my heart sometimes just to think about it.

gramps — My grandpa. That grin! If it doesn’t make you feel good, I can’t help you.

What is this secret element that brings on these good feels? I think it’s kindness. A genuine interest in others and commitment to their well-being.. and a complete lack of self-interest. The Gallomen are confident, so they don’t need to prove themselves by obnoxiously competing with other men or by bringing down women, either overtly or covertly. ❤

But another more somber reason those lyrics strike me is how many men they *don’t* apply to.

(This isn’t a man-basher post, but just a “Ima be real” with a dash of emo.)

I have a lot of guy friends that are fun to pal around with. They can be funny. They can be charming. They can be interesting. But at the end of the day, hardly any of them – romantic or platonic alike – actually make me feel good. And some of them – after hanging out with them – I just feel… bad.

Is that their fault? Is the problem me? Who knows, and who cares. They just do.

My birthday is around the corner, which always intensifies my pensiveness and reflectivity sooooo… the action item I’m going to take away from this beautifically simple ideer is also beautifically simple: I’m going stop friending (and especially dating, amiright?) men* whom — whether or not they’re brilliant, hilarious, devastatingly handsome, Captain of the Tim Keller fan club, etc. — it feels bad to be around.** And if I may get a little dramatic … if I can’t find men who feel good to be around, better to be alone and/or surround myself with sisters from other misters and/or houseplants.

.. Oh, and I encourage you all – especially those tender young blossoms of womenfolk – to do the same *smooch*

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*Yes, yes, women too. But the song lyric is about men, so.. just go with it.

**I’m not saying to shun people who you don’t jive with perfectly. I’m referring to people who consistently bring ickiness into your life. You don’t have to hate them, but you definitely don’t have to subject yourself to the bad feels, either.

Yo’ body ain’t nobody’s biz

I’m sorry to be salty about this, but you can’t stop this Na+ influx!

Long ago, before this blog was even a twinkle in my Galloeye, I remember going to a nearby water park and thinking – “why is it okay for a bunch of strangers to be running around in their skivvies just because there’s a bunch of water around?”*

winterbeach — This is the appropriate amount of clothing to wear to the beach. Jk. OR AM I?! (pixabay image)

Thanks to the rise of technology, a new question has puzzled my brainz. “why is it okay for a bunch of distant friends and strangers to see you in your skivvies just because a screen separates you?”

Look, I understand – if you work out a lot, you want people to cheer your progress. Many a time I’ve been gripped with an intense urgency to share my obliques on fleek. Maybe you tell yourself your ab pic isn’t to brag, it’s to inspire people. Sure… but if I were a bettin’ woman,** I’d wager that for every one person you inspire with a pic of your fantastic bod you make 10 other people feel like a shapeless blob of poo.

bodybuilder — Are you inspired, or just mildly disturbed? (pixabay image)

Of course, there will always be the Leering Larry’s who will see your picture and not feel insecure, but feel, well eh, good. Too good… Maybe some of these Larry’s have fantastic bods themselves, and you welcome their leering. BUT, I’d wager that some of them are .. spouses, hormonal teenagers, and creepers at least a generation older than you. Ew.

Let’s just back this up a little bit, anyway. Why the hayull are we so obsessed with people knowing we have a good bod? Honestly – especially if you ascribe to Christian sexual ethics – 1 person should know and care what your beach body looks like. Your wifie or hubs. Even if you don’t ascribe to such ethics, it’s still a very small number of people who should be directly affected by the shape of your body. No one else should know or care. It ain’t their biz!

Here are some practical ways to transform your mind so you won’t be as tempted to plaster basically nekkid pic of yourself all over the interwebs. A lot of these involve vivid imagining.

1) Imagine one of your real friends who has a less-than-perfect body. Imagine stepping into their room, interrupting their relaxation time, stripping down to your skivvies, and yelling in their face – “HEY! Isn’t my body AWESOME?! AREN’T YOU INSPIRED?!” Does that seem strange to you? Because that’s basically what you’re doing, just with a screen in-between.

2) Imagine stepping into a Leering Larry’s house, and seeing a pic of yourself in your skivvies blown up into poster size and pasted on his/her ceiling. Would you be creeped out? Then don’t give them the opportunity!

homeless-845711_960_720 — Just imagine this dude can’t wait until you post another bikini / shirtless pic. (pixabay image)

3) Imagine everyone in the world knows what your body looks like, and they all think it’s dynamo. Then.. what? —- unless you’re trying to be a swimsuit model, it really doesn’t make sense for this to drastically change your life, except to have more people thinking inappopro thoughts about you. What’s your end goal,exactly?

Okay, that’s all folks. This isn’t to slut-shame anyone, btdubs. I just want to raise awareness that the small target audience you actually had in mind when you post your vacay or fitspiration pics or whatever is just a tiny proportion of who all will actually see your bod. Just think it through, ya know? Please and thank you.

Forever yours,
Dr. Galloswag ❤

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*Ftr, I’m still haunted by this question.

** I ain’t, ma, I swur!

A middle class and over-educated white woman shares her brilliant thoughts on racism

As the title may suggest, I feel unqualified and almost idiotic for posting about racism in the aftermath of Charlottesville. But I also feel weird not saying anything, because silence in these cases makes it seem like I’m apathetic at best, and a closet white supremacy sympathizer at worst. So here are a few rambles I have. If you see issues with any of this, I welcome respectful dialogue. My point is not to say “I’M RIGHT!” but “This is where I’m coming from.” But I’m a life-long learner, so .. fire away.

Human lives were lost

As soon as a tragedy happens, each political side eagerly points out how the ideology and policies that the “other side” promoted caused the problem. It’s so predictable I would think it was funny, except it’s also sickening. Look, I even give myself space to grieve for a while after I put down my little research rats. Can we not do that for a human life? Would we really rather downplay or ignore the loss of a human life than accidentally express support for a political view we don’t share? Eck.

Signal-to-noise

Let me be clear – white supremacy is both terrifying and infuriating. I 100% condemn this strange neo-Nazi uprising. Now, is my experience with mainly upper-middle class and overly educated people of all races especially relevant to the racial discussion? Probabblyyyyy not. So when stuff like this happens, one of the most respectful things I can think of is to just shut up for a day or two (reduce the noise) and let other people’s voices be heard (increase the signal).

Trump is an orange herring

Did I vote for Trump? No.* Do I resent the blanket accusations toward Trump supporters? Um, yes. Many people I know and love voted for Trump – some hesitantly, some enthusiastically. And guess what? Many of them are vehemently NOT racist.** Demanding that Trump supporters bear the responsibility for each and every one of his buffooneries is asinine. Moreover, blaming Trump generally for racial conflict is asinine. Remember how everyone stopped being racist when Obama was the President? Oh yeah.. me neither. Look –Trump’s rhetoric seems to have emboldened some extremist groups to organize and “go public,” and that’s not okay. But he didn’t create racism, and he’s one orange man. Over-focusing on him and everything he tweets is a waste of your emotional energy. Even more so, funneling your frustration and hatred over racism toward Trump voters at large is counter-productive. Racial harmony is going to require the cooperation and heart-change of people of all races. Antagonizing, accusing, and insulting an entire group of people (a sizable proportion of which hated Hillary more than they loved Trump, I’d wager) is going to further alienate them when we need to bring them into the fold. As a final point – if Trump supporters, white males, or whoever are obligated to post something so that people don’t think terrible things about them, is it really meaningful?

Embracing the tension

I’m afraid that if I “scratch that itch,” by posting something about Charlottesville – it will give me a false sense of accomplishment. I will soak up the approval of my anti-racist friends, and we’ll pat each other on the back for not being “part of the problem.” And then what next? I will sip my tulsi tea and serenely read a theological book in the safe confines of my gated apartment complex. So I rather know that I’m not doing anything than feel self-satisfied at doing something that cost me nothing and actually gained me some social media cred.

What to do?

That being said, I would really rather do something. But what? This may shock you, but many people in PhD world – where I spend 90% of my time – are not racist,** or at least not openly so. I could be wrong, but I would guess academia is one of the friendliest environments for people of all types of racially diverse backgrounds. Academia is basically a meritocracy, sprinkled with affirmative-action type of policies. So it’s not like I have many chances to say, “Hey! That racist joke isn’t funny!” And University policies seem to be rather friendly toward people of diverse backgrounds, especially those who are traditionally underrepresented in certain fields (like STEM). So besides aggressively posting anti-racist status updates on social media – which only other anti-racists will read – what should I do? I’m not trying to absolve myself of responsibility – I’m genuinely curious.

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*I didn’t vote for Hillary, either! But I did vote! Write in, baby!

**In this context, I mean racist as in “gee golly, wish we could go back to the good ol’ days of Jim Crow!” Everyone has nasty prejudices and snobberies and divisiveness in their own hearts, which I truly believe only Jesus can heal. But on a political level, I (maybe naively) think you can advocate for change that leads to equality and opportunity for people of all races to flourish — even before every single person’s heart is 100% pure.

Pity the Fool

When I was 12, I shocked my local community of braced youths by forgoing my chance to snag the most bomb guy in middle school.* We were a hot item for quite a while — meaningfully passing each other the basketball during pick-up games, boldly standing in the same 10 ft.² area of space, making eye contact when we laughed at something… you know, the type of intimacy that makes a 12 year old girl’s heart do cartwheels.

younglove — Actual picture of me and my crush when I was 12. Huh, he wore more lipstick than I remember. (pixabay image)

BUT THEN, my well-meaning oldest sister – overwhelmed by the awkward absurdity of middle-school crushes, I suppose – went and told my crush that I “like-liked” him.

*Gasp*

*Blush*

*Die*

Instead of being relieved that my “secret” crush was revealed, I had a panic attack. Then, like a true irrational and hysterical woman, I proceeded to go out of my way to implement strategic snubbery to make sure he understood I was 100% uninterested. I all but told this dude to talk to the hand. I’m still not even sure what my goals were in this – I think I was just embarrassed, and maybe scared shoot-less that he didn’t like me as much as I liked him (?). Oh, the horror!

Shamefully, I kept elements of this self-defeating defensiveness into early adulthood.** Each relationship began this weird game of “how little can I show him I care about him?” I would hold back to see how much skin in the game the guy had before I would give even the teensiest indication that I valued him a little bit more than my faithful philodendrun. I adopted an economic strategy – try to find the best guy possible (maximize benefits) that will tolerate me putting in the least amount of effort (minimize costs). Because I won’t be no fool for anyone! Shazam!

Ack. What a fool I was, trying not to be a fool.

Man is nought but folly’s slave,
From the cradle to the grave.
W. H. Ireland—Modern Ship of Fools.

I’m especially convicted when I think about Jesus and his romantic pursuit of his Bride.*** Does anyone look at the cross – at a man who laid his life down for people whoring after things that lead to death – and think “Ugh, what a silly fool.” No. Anyone who fully absorbs the cross falls at his feet in worship. His kindness leads us to repentance, and then we restructure every part of our lives accordingly.

Who is the fool: Jesus, or the person who sees the cross – in all of its gory and tangible expression of love – and says, “meh”?

There seems to be a strange, paradoxical truth: The person who loves the least is the fool. Someone to be pitied for their hardness of heart and stubborn refusal to allow themselves to be fully loved. And the person who loves the most is the hero. Someone to be followed, and admired for their tenderness of heart and stubborn refusal to be selfish.

Pity the fool.

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*The middle school of my homeschool group, whatever that is worth. Jk, he was actually pretty adorbs, even by elite public school standards. *snorts*

**This was undergrad, so I use the term “adult” loosely

***Aka the church

BREAKING: It’s okay to take a break from constantly questioning your faith!

I dated a guy a while back who took DTRing to a new level. We were talking about “us” before we had time for an us to grow. No jokes, our dates were like listening to a live commentary on our dates, by us. It was disorienting and exhausting.

I don’t say this to be ungracious to a former Gallolover (lolz), but to make the point that as essential as DTRing can be, it is not essential at all times. In fact, sometimes it’s plum inappropro. Most times, it’s nice to enjoy each other at whatever stage the relationship happens to be in. If you constantly have to bring everything to a screeching halt to pick apart, analyze, and forecast future directions for your relationship, true intimacy will shrivel like a salted snail.

Let your intimacy be a healthy, thriving snail! Ewww! Nm. You get it. (image from pixabay)

Now, let’s pivot from romanticals to Jesus-lovin’.

Theological investigations are great. Especially if you’ve been in the church since birth and have been following Jesus since you remember having conscious thought, it’s important to update your theology as your knowledge grows and your capacity for critical thinking develops. Yes indeedy – sometimes my faith hasn’t been able to “move on” until I gain some sort of enlightenment on a theological quandary that has been bothering me.

That being said — if I stay in the questioning or conceptual mode for too long it’s like being in a constant DTR with God, instead of just enjoying who He is and living out what I do know and understand. My intimacy with God shrivels like a salted snail.

I don’t want to discourage honest inquiry, and I definitely don’t think your intelligence should be laid aside for some sort of vague mysticism that doesn’t clearly delineate a spiritual experience from indigestion. I do want to encourage you to create space in your life to enjoy who Jesus is and just… rest.

rest_kermit — Kermit gets it. (image from pixabay)

Selah.

Help you help me

“If you don’t have something good to blog, don’t blog anything at all.”

^Solid advice, mes amis- which I will boldly ignore.

I try to be somewhat orig and not just use my blog as an outlet to rant,* but rant I shall.

cockatoo-182309_960_720 — Yes! Soar, cockatoo, soar! (image from pixabay)

Most of my close friends and associates know that getting my PhD – instead of launching me into the future like a confident cockatoo – has lobbed me into a full-blown identity crisis. I find this intensely annoying, as 16 year old Galloswag pretty much charted out her life until “get PhD,” with complete confidence that Dr. Galloswag could take it from there. Well guess what, y’all – Dr. Galloswag is feeling like a lost pool noodle being tossed about the stormy waves of Life. #poetry

But to the main crux of my rant – people cannot stand this identity crisis of mine. They want to solve it – NOW! So many people have solved my identity crisis in a mere 30 minutes, it’s truly amazing. The only problem is, after they cobble together my life plan as I sit there nodding dumbly, the inner Galloswag sez, “NOOOOOOOOO!” And I’m back to square one.

So what is the purpose of this rant – not to be ungrateful to anyone who has tried to help me process through my options – but to offer a helpful shot of wisdom to my fellow identity-crisis-ers. As ol’ Solly sez, “With many counselors [plans] succeed.”** But if I may add, sometimes many counselors bring chaos. Especially if all the counselors are confidently telling you completely different things. At some point, we analytic-paralytics need to just bite the bullet and make a decision. A decision that 9/10 of our counselors will be gravely disappointed in (the people-pleaser in me writhes in agony at the very idea!).

^me after the 37th person gives me advice that if I don’t follow, my life will be ruin’t. (image from pixabay)

So the second purpose of this rant, I s’pose, is if you happen to be a counselor— slow your roll. You don’t need to solve someone else’s life. Most of the time they just want someone to listen to them and be supportive, but they need to figure things out on their own. Trust me – it’s better this way —- so when they inevitably screw up their life they can’t blame it on you 😀 teehee

Here’s to young(ish)-life crises!

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*Jk. This blog is almost 100% me ranting.

**Proverbs 15:22

Give me feels, or give me death

I’m a feeler, y’all.

When I’m mad, I sputter angrily. When I’m sad, I cry piteously. When I’m guilty, my tummy feels nauseatingly twisty. When I lolz, it’s a wild cackle, sometimes accompanied with hearty snorts. When I’m infatuated, I feel like throwing tulip petals over Atlanta as I fly around on a magic carpet with my infatuater.

As you can imagine, stoicism is not my strong suit.

A few years ago, I got tired of being feelsy. And guess what? I was successful! During these years, I truly had less drama. I didn’t get mad or cry very much. Life was so serene. But, I never want to go back to that place.

Why? Because I also didn’t lolz very much. Most disappointingly, there was not even *one* magic carpet ride. 😥

Why? Well, the secret to stop feeling is to stop loving and caring about people. You cannot love without hurting.* Except myself, of course. I somehow manage to never stop caring about myself. And that’s just an icky way to live.

If you pride yourself on being “drama free,” or brag that you don’t really grieve over your exes or lost friendships – shame on you. What are you gaining, except numbness to the people around you? No thank you, Louie Baloo.

Give me the angry sputters, give me piteous cries, give me the tummy twists. Because they are a symptom of caring and loving. And because magic carpet rides are SO worth it. *snorts*

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*At least for a feeler like me. If you are a stoïque d’amour, WRITE YOUR OWN BLOG.

The libra part of me insists that I offer a balanced view of this. Obvs, some people are able to take very loving action without feeling particularly worked up. And it’s probably not healthy to always be at the extreme ends of positive and negative emotions.

A smart jerk is still a jerk

Okay, so you’re a rocket scientist… that don’t impress me much. – Shania Twain

As dangerous as a little knowledge is, even more dangerous is much knowledge without a strong, principled character. – Ghandi

And if I … understand all mysteries and all knowledge, … but have not love, I am nothing. – 1 Corinthians 13:2*

This year I graduated 22^nd grade. You heard me – a full decade of post-high-school education! Yowza. I’ve been deep in the dark recesses of academia for a while, surrounded by all the smartie-pants.

They are many fab things about working around and being friends with smarties. They sharpen you. They don’t let you get away with lazy thinking, or holding too tightly to untested assumptions. Even my lunches have been subject to the critical appraisal of my labmates, no lolz. So, I highly recommend having at least a few hard-core smarties in your life.

okay-so-youre-593be5 — Shania gets it, y’all.

**BUT** please don’t romanticize the intelligentsia. Being smart and/or educated (trust me, these are not mutually inclusive!) just means that .. you’re smart and educated. It doesn’t make you a good friend, it doesn’t give you good character, it doesn’t give you wisdom. It doesn’t even necessarily mean that you live out what you know. Seriously – people accuse Christians of being hypocritical, but great googly moogly! I know so many academics who – in stubborn refusal to acknowledge decades of nutrition research – rebelliously guzzle diet cokes and stuff pizza in their faces as they listen to a talk on the risk factors of Alzheimer’s disease.**

Smarties can also be arrogant and dismissive, especially to those who are not as intellectually gifted. #dumblivesmatter

Smarties can also apply their knowledge in a destructive way. I hate to play the Nazi card, but I’m going to play the Nazi card. Germans were highly educated. They weren’t in-bred rednecks who got super drunk one night and decided to go on a killing spree. There is a horrifying logic to eugenics, actually.

So what’s my point — not that being intelligent makes you evil. It’s just.. one – and only one – feature that’s pretty coolio. But please, please don’t over-glorify it. Being loving, kind, joyful, a peacemaker, humble, good, faithful, gentle, having self-control*** those are the qualities that are truly unique and praiseworthy. Maybe being intelligent will help you live some of these out more fully, but being smart is not sufficient, and probably not even necessary to have this kind of character.

So sure – let’s all give up a golf clap for smart people, but let’s not go into standing ovation territory. And if you happen to be brilliant, get over yourself – and make sure you seek out the mentorship of people who will help corral your smarts for good and not evil.

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*edited for conciseness, but it’s a beautiful chapter so read the whole caboodle!

** FYI artificial sweeteners and diets high in saturated fat can increase your risk of AD #thatonewasforfree #yourewelcome #shamelessselfpromotion

*** You good church folks are probably noticing I’m getting a little FRUITY!!

When fools rush in: How to survive a Jo-Jo storm

Morton salt - When it Rains It Pours-8x6 — (from http://www.thisdayinquotes.com/2009/11/when-it-rains-it-pours-started-out-as_06.html)

There seems to be a social contagion with romance and attraction, and I have a strong suspicion that males have special sensors that alert them to females who just recently went on a date. Many of my friends and I have been through seasons of life in which we were tortured with an invasion of men who are great in some ways, but have preexisting conditions that make them unsuitable for the long haul. Lo, they’re suddenly all around you, like a heavily cologned swarm of brosquitos.

Initially this is all It’s raining men, Hallelujah! But quickly it becomes Poor poor pitiful me | Oh these boys won’t let me be | Lord have mercy on me | Woe woe is me!* What is a girl to do? Should you casually date one, some, or all Jo-Jo(s) indefinitely until Prince Perfecto** comes riding in? Is someone better than no one?

Pfft. Only if you want to ruin your life, bring shame to your family and community, and contribute to global warming! Please consider the following –

– Opportunity Cost, yo If you’re out with Jo-Jo, Prince Perfecto may not pursue you because he’ll see that you’re taken. And he might even judge you a little for having a taste for Jo-Jo. And honestly.. can you blame him? Or, you’ll be so distracted that you won’t even notice or be emotionally available when he does put out “feelers” for your interest.

– Remember the ghosts of Jo-Jos past I have a good amount of respect for most of the men I’ve dated, but there are some man-children who I’m … remorseful … to have ever dated. So if you’re asking, “What do I have to lose by going on a few dates with this guy?” Galloswag sez, “Your dignity, woman!

– Have a heart Even if you’re a rough and tough woman who can easily date without getting attached, that “fill-in” you’re dating may not share your vision for having no vision of a future with him. It’s pretty ru-ru and selfish to waste someone’s time. #JoJoFeelsMatter

– Learn to live all by yourself If you are intensely miserable by yourself, anyone will seem like an upgrade. But if you craft a full life of friends, adventure, and purpose, you’ll be much less tempted to accept someone’s attentions just because you need a distraction from your lamé life. YOLO, so make your solo L count.

– Get an accountabuddy! Have a friend – I find older, married women especially helpful for this – whom you feel comfortable sharing your dating life with. Tell them what’s up, even when your dating life is a horror show. A few times, a major motivator for me to prevent a Jo-Jo-continuation was knowing that I would have to explain myself later to a woman I had deep respect for.

– Get out of the Jo-Jo pond Sometimes we tally our catches, rank them, and then choose whoever is at the top. But don’t get tunnel vision and feel pressured into choosing between your currently available options. Sometimes “none of the above” is the right answer.

Not wasting time with Jo-Jos may not automatically cue the entrance of Prince Perfecto (who has apparently been in a deep coma from the moment you came of age), but I do promise it will help prevent your soul from being pummeled with upsettedness and futility in the meantime. Stay strong, my shimmering stars of singleness!

This is how I see all of my single sistren. Try not to get to emotional! (pixabay free images)

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

*The Weather Girls and Linda Ronstadt, respectively.

**I actually mean Mr. Ideal, but Prince Perfecto is both an alliteration and rhymes with Jo-Jo and I couldn’t resist. #artisticlicense