What about a falafel?

The following conversation happened at work the other day:

C: Do you like euros?

H: Euros?

C: Yeah, do you like euros?

H: Sure, I like European currency.

C: No, euros.

There's a pause as we all look to C for clarification. He provides none.

E: Oh, gearos!

J: Oh, guyros!

H: Heh, I've always called them jeeros.

C: They're euros, man.

H: I don't know, I've never tried one.

C: I think you'd like it.

In case you couldn't tell, the food in question was a gyro.

I'm unsure if this pronunciation problem is limited to the southern U. S., but I can say that almost everyone I've run into has heard from someone who "actually lived in Greece" that the way they pronounce it is, in fact, the right way. Even if the other pronunciation in question was also said to be the correct way, by someone who "actually is Greek."

Which leads me to wonder: urban legend, or are the Greeks playing an elaborate prank on us?

25

I am 25 today.

I feel like this is a monumental birthday. 25 was always the deadline, it seems. Now the deadline is here and I expected things to be a little--no, a lot--different.

And I've spent the greater part of 24 learning to be okay with that.

I'm actually happy with it; excited for 25.

[and beyond.]

Half-Finished

I have a fascination with half-finished things.

Once, on a tour of the Crayola factory, I got a crayon wrapper before the color name was printed on it. I thought it was cool to have this souvenir that only someone who had been to the factory could possibly have. They didn't send papers like this out into the world, half-finished like that. I'm not sure where the crayon wrapper is now, but for a while, it joined a collection I had of similar unfinished items, mainly from factory tours (our family vacations generally consist of at least one factory tour).

Even now, I find such things interesting. I like seeing the blank bulletin paper each week before I print it, and when it's only printed on one side. It's almost like a secret. I am one of few people who see the bulletin this way--pre-printing.

Because I am a writer, and I worked a Christian summer camp, and I'm interested in how and why humans think the way they do, and mostly because I was in a poetry class once in college, I sometimes try to think of deeper meanings to my eccentricities.

I was pondering this yesterday while printing the bulletin. Bulletin printing allows lots of pondering time.
I suppose you could say that seeing things half-finished gives me hope: Look at what it was originally--bare, incomplete, lacking--and now what it is--complete, finished, beautiful. (Christian-camp-me inserts, "Like us, before and after Jesus" here.)
You could also say that I like being an insider. I like knowing this secret because it makes me feel elite and included.
You could also say that this is why so many of my little projects and plans are only half-finished. That's the joke my mom would make. My sister would laugh. I would laugh too, and then vow to change. And I would--half-way. I'm a dreamer that needs to work on being more of a doer.

But I'm not going to stand behind any of those theories, whatever truth may be in them. I simply like half-finished things. I don't know why. They're just neat.

Vulnerability

What if I were truly vulnerable with people I love?

What if I were more vulnerable with everyone?

Once, I heard a pastor say that someone can only love you as much as you are willing to be vulnerable with them.

When I thought about that, I realized how true a statement it is. To be vulnerable basically means to be open to hurt, criticism, and attack. Vulnerability is not necessarily fun, but it is necessary to form significant relationships. When I think about my relationships, I know that the people I am most open to are also the ones who love me the most. My parents, for example, know almost everything about me. They are the ones the most able to hurt, criticise, or attack me because they know my weaknesses better than anyone. At the same time, they love me more than anyone else does. And, hello, Jesus. He knows even more than my parents, yet he gave his life for me out of love.

This is true even of people outside of the realm of close relationships. My church recently did a series of sermons based on the Beatitudes about recovery. Several members of the church stood before the entire congregation and told us of things they suffer from--everything from co-dependency to addictions to same-sex attraction. They made themselves completely vulnerable. And I loved my church even more.

Then there are people I don't know personally and probably never will--the same is true for them. Think about Taylor Swift. She's doing pretty well for herself. I heard her say once that her last album was basically her diary. I know enough about diaries to know that no one wants people to see theirs. To see someone's diary is to see their intimate secrets. They are exposed and vulnerable. Taylor Swift writes songs about her crushes and her heartbreaks, sometimes even including the person's real name. She is exposed, yet she has won how many awards and sold how many albums? People love her.

Another person this is true of is Jon Acuff. If you have never read the Stuff Christians Like blog, you need to. I'm a big fan. He recently wrote a Stuff Christians Like book and I read several reviews, including this one here. The reviewer in that article is one of many who attributes the success of the blog and book in part to Jon's vulnerability. He is telling Christians what we do is sometimes silly, but that he is right there with us. He tells readers his weaknesses and that makes all the difference. I haven't read the book yet, but the blog is full of "I make mistakes" moments. And he has a huge following. I mean, millions. Even non-Christians like his blog/book because he is honest. Honest and vulnerable.

There are many other examples. Postsecret is a art project/book series/blog based on people's secrets--people getting vulnerable with complete strangers (though, it is for the most part anonymous, so there's a degree of vulnerability not quite reached there). People like watching shows like Biggest Loser and American Idol, where the contestants' weaknesses are revealed and their secret dreams are exposed. The What if series here began from a blog, really from the comments, where people were opening themselves up to attack: they shared their secrets--hopes, dreams, fears.

What if we were all more vulnerable?

I want to be more vulnerable, more honest. I like people who are vulnerable and honest. And so do you. I think if we were all a little more vulnerable, we'd all be a little more loved, and a little more loving.

It's pretty simple. Just try to be like T. Swift, a blogger, an artist, losers, idols, and people at my church. Okay?

Writing for Me

What if I wrote for an audience of me?

I was reading someone's blog, or an article, or a tweet recently talking about writing. They said that most writing teachers will tell you that you should know your audience, and write for them. But, and they quoted some author here, you should write for yourself. If you write things that you enjoy reading, chances are, someone else will enjoy reading it, too.

[an aside: I so wish that I could remember who said/wrote half the things I hear/read. I would sound about 93% more intelligent if I could only remember my sources.]

I agree partially with both sides of that argument (as with most arguments--I like being Switzerland).

More than writing for an audience, I think you should be aware of your audience. Obviously, if you are writing a children's book, you should be aware that children will read it and write appropriately. Awareness is a good thing.

However, I don't think you should write for your audience. The famous author that I didn't even attempt to quote above has a point. Take this blog, for example. I have become aware that I have a readership. It is an incredibly small readership, but there are those who read what I write. And I am a people-pleaser. Therefore, I have tried to write what is pleasing for my readers. It hasn't been horrible. But I've got to stop. It will be better for us all.

How not to encourage your single friends

This isn't a part of the What If quasi-series, but it is something that must be addressed.

I was at a wedding shower the other day for almost two and a half hours. I knew approximately 5 people there, including the bride and groom. This left plenty of time to people-watch and, I'll admit it, eavesdrop. I listened to the following conversation (paraphrased, because I'm not that great at rote memorization):

Middle-Aged Married Man (MAMM): So, have you met anyone special over in Dallas*?

Single Mid-Twenties Man (SMTM): No, not yet.

MAMM: Haha, I'm sure you get tired of being asked that.

SMTM laughs a little.

MAMM: Well, don't worry. My brother is in his mid-forties and he still hasn't found anyone. People have just stopped asking.

*Places have been changed to protect the guilty eavesdropper (me).

I believe the last statement was meant to be encouraging to the SMTM and to give him hope. This reminded me of a conversation I had had with a co-worker in which he told me, by way of encouragement, that he knew a woman who didn't get married until her fifties.

I don't understand why married people think it is encouraging to tell single people about the middle-age, and older, single people they know.

It's like getting off a roller coaster in a theme park, walking past those waiting in line and saying, "That was awesome! Don't worry, you'll get there. My brother waited in that line five days before he got to ride." or "It's okay that you're all the way back here. My friend has been in line for 36 hours, and she's not any closer than you are!"

Seriously.

We get it. Hope is not lost. Most of us probably aren't completely freaked out about it until you imply that we might have to wait 30 more years to find love. We're just kind of hoping we'll get there before your brother/friend.