Introducing! Lexie's Five Star All-Star Books! And! Gail Collins Explains Feminism and I Eat it Up!

I use the reading database and social network GoodReads religiously. I treat it as an external record of my reading history: I have tracked every book I've read since graduating college five years ago. I read at a rate of about fifty books a year, and it's sometimes difficult to keep track of everything. 

My favorite aspect of GoodReads is its star rating system.* I realize other services use the same, but recent reports have suggested that those reviews are, um, mostly made of lies. (Amazon, I'm looking at you.) To ensure more or less consistency in my reviews, I have the following criteria for determining my star rating: 

One star: disliked the book actively or didn't finish it due to boredom or disgust.

Two stars: meh. My time could have been used better, but I didn't stop reading it.

Three stars: I'm not sorry I read it, but I won't read it again.

Four stars: I might reread it in the future.

Five stars: I will actively recommend the book to others.

So now it's Money Where Mouth Is time. Check out the Five Star All Star Books tag to see the Books Lexie Thinks You Should Definitely Read, No Really, Soon.** Also check out my Audiobooks tag for audiobook reviews (which are difficult to find if you don't subscribe to Audible, I guess).

When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women from 1960 to the Present, by Gail Collins

This is an incredible book. Hands down. It should be required reading in high school. Gail Collins has both written the definitive history of feminism in the second half of the twentieth century, and collected a remarkable oral history from those who lived it. 

There are so many amazing things in this book. At first I was riveted by the description of life for a woman in the 1960s, a life my grandmothers, mother, and aunts lived but I never quite understood. It is at once so foreign (Sandra Day O'Connor was told there were no legal jobs available to her-- except secretary? Unbelievable!) and familiar (then, as now, women's bodies were public property, to be glorified and shamed by others). 

Although I count myself as a well-informed feminist, there were certain things I just didn't get. Why did the ERA fail? Just how many bras were burned? (The surprising answer to that last question? None.) How did the young generation of feminists in the 1970s interact with the still-living suffragettes? 

So much of modern feminism is concerned with women "having it all." I find this discussion a bit tiresome-- both men and women have to make sacrifices to balance work and life. I have found the discussion in mass media of women "having it all" to be not helpful. Why is the focus solely on women? Where are the working dads who are trying to make it work? Instead of lamenting that we can't have it all without a nanny to raise the kids when we're busy at work and good subordinates to count on when we're busy with family, why don't we take a hard look at our work culture, and, moreover, our own goals to decide what is really important to us? Isn't it, I don't know, greedy to expect that we should be able to have it all? Isn't all of life a balancing act? We only have so much time and so much energy to devote to everything, and at some point choices must be made.

So when articles like The Atlantic's recent [thingy dingy omg] come out, and all my Facebook friends light up with indignation at the Professional Woman's Lot In Life, I roll my eyes and turn to the next page. 

Collins broke it down for me, though. Reading the aggregate history of women in the modern workplace made it easier to for me to accept and understand that the issue of "having it all" is still geared predominantly toward women. And more than that, I gained a real understanding of how lucky I am to stand on the shoulders of the women who came before me. AND how much work is still to be done.

That's not to say the book is mostly about "having it all." Collins goes into all aspects of life, from work, to family, to home, to school, to coming-of-age. She follows the lives of several women, some of whom became important voices in the feminist movement and some of whom have just led interesting and ordinary lives.

Plus, the book is absolutely riddled with amazing little factoids. Did you know that all divorces had to have one party at fault and one "wornged" party until fairly recently? If both parties were cheating, for instance, both parties were at fault and therefore no divorce could be granted. Oftentimes you needed a witness to the "crime" of infidelity, so a cottage industry of professional mistresses arose, simply so they could be caught in the act in super-contrived scenarios. Crazypants!

So yes. If you're a woman, read When Everything Changed. If you're a man, read When Everything Changed. If you count yourself as neither, read When Everything Changed. It's the most important book of American history I've read all year, and it's a really engaging read. 

Read it if: You're at all interested in the history of gender. If you're a woman. If you're a man. If you identify as neither.

Lexie's Shelves: read, non-fiction.

The author is: awesome, down to earth, and funny.

Things that bugged me: There was a lot about "having it all," which I still kind of have a problem with. See above. 

*My second favorite aspect of GoodReads is its "shelves" system. It allows me to gather books into categories I choose, plus I get to name them silly things. I have shelves for "books-my-mom-would-like" as well as "fun-to-read-on-public-transportation" for those books with scenes that are probably a little too steamy for the Metro (but whatever, I do what I want). I also have categories of mystical beasts from "everything-i-read-is-about-vampires" to "zombies-are-the-new-vampire." I can keep track of the non-fiction I've read and the YA books I've read. 

**Possibly not so much a "series" as "I was super bored on the airplane and decided to write a book report." It's a toss up. 

DANCESTRAVAGANZAAAAA Part 3: Following is not the lamer pursuit

I attended the Lindustrial Revolution Lindy hop exchange in Charlottesville, VA on Memorial Day weekend. I had more fun than should be legal and gathered a lot to think about. In my somewhat obsessive thoughts about the experience, I wrote several emails to friends (mostly Emily). These entries are culled from those.

It's important to remember that I am an Intermediate Lindy hopper. I've really only been dancing and trying to improve consistently for about a year, although I learned about five years ago and have been dancing sporadically since 2007. All of my comments are tempered by that relative inexperience.

To read all the posts in this series, click on the "Dancestravaganza series" tag.

A big part of this weekend were the workshops. I was super excited about these, because I feel like I'm at a level where I don't get as much from the normal classes as I once did. We covered some new material in these workshops: new steps and the like. But as a follow, the stuff that I really got out of it was more philosophical, which was awesome.

As follows, this is generally the advice:

1. follow what the lead leads
2. don't plan ahead
3. have your stylings be convenient for the lead

Most of the time the lessons are focused almost entirely on the lead. He lead learns moves that they can use to lead us. That's fine and necessary. After all, that's how the dance, you know, works. But at a certain point, I don't know how to improve my dancing. When I'm dancing with a great lead, my dancing is on the awesome side of intermediate. When I'm dancing with a mediocre lead, my dancing is on the lower side of intermediate. My engagement in the dance was beginning to be dependent entirely on the lead's ability to engage me. Where to from here? 

But the advice this weekend was more like, um, well... it's difficult to explain. But it felt freeing.

Instead of focusing so hard on connection and partnership, we follows were brought into the discussion more. We talked about direction and momentum, and about communication and interpretation. Basically the lead communicates the direction and the momentum in and with which the follow goes, and the follow does whatever she likes once she has that. "You are two dancers. You must dance together. The dancing creates the movement." We talked about things like being an active follow who has some agency, which is super awesome.

It's nice to have it reinforced that there are moments in the dance that are open to interpretation, and so long as I'm going the correct direction, I can take some liberties in what I do with myself and how I play with the rhythm. It's just so nice to hear. It's like I have permission to be creative and to mess up a bit. The lead can handle it if my styling gets in the way, probably. Ideally it wouldn't, but leads get the hell in my way all the freaking time. So there.

But wait, Lexie, you're saying. What about original rules 2 and 3? Isn't that what those are about anyway, just not as explicitly? The answer is yes. But the follow's role tends to get lost in the noise of the lead's movements. Elaboration on how one could take advantage of these rhythmic moments, and encouragement to do so, was something I was sorely missing.

Lindy hop is a dance that's built to be a bit more participatory than traditional ballroom dancing, Part of its evolution had to do with tap and solo jazz, and there are no lead/follow distinctions from there. Also, a passage on dancing in the Gail Collins book really stuck out to me. In the 1960s, women could suddenly go dancing without dependence on a man. Women could be good dancers without men. Women were free to dance however the heck they wanted. They could dance with each other or by themselves. And instead of waiting for someone to ask you to the sock hop, you could just do it your own self. 

Although I am a woman fully in charge of my own destiny thanks to the women who have come before me (what what Susan B!!), I don't always feel that way when I'm doing my favorite leisure activity. It was causing me some minor cognitive dissonance, which was no good!

Overall, even though I probably should have been, I hadn't been feeling encouraged to experiment in the same way leads are. Prior to this weekend, I had heard/decided that my next focus in the development of my dancing is to "create shapes with my body." That's fine and all, but there are a couple problems here. First, just "create shapes" doesn't have a root in rhythm. Plus I'm not the most naturally coordinated person in the world, so everything was getting a little disjointed and loose. 

Moreover, I don't want the dance to be solely about how I look. Styling is gorgeous and obviously everything in dance is related. For instance, grace is beautiful, but following the rhythm gracefully is a good goal. Attempting to be graceful only for the sake of beauty and interesting shapes is kind of, um, problematic. Dance is obviously a visual medium, but I don't want my dancing to be about being beautiful. I want it to be about being athletic and joyful and rhythmic. Screw beauty, I want to jump around and have fun!

So not to make this all "How Lexie Got Her Groove Back" (sidebar-- "How Stella Got Her Grove Back" about property disputes over an orange farm in Florida would be a really great movie), but I feel like I have been given permission to be a powerful dancer in my own right. I still need to not hurt my lead, but I can surprise him (or her) every once in a while. I can rock out if I'm feeling it. 

So thanks, Mike and Laura (and especially Laura) for an awesome workshop where I learned a lot and had a ton of fun. And you gave me back a feeling of agency.

Dancestravaganzaaaaa Part 2: Lessons and an Ego Check

I attended the Lindustrial Revolution Lindy hop exchange in Charlottesville, VA on Memorial Day weekend. I had more fun than should be legal and gathered a lot to think about. In my somewhat obsessive thoughts about the experience, I wrote several emails to friends (mostly Emily). These entries are culled from those.

It's important to remember that I am an Intermediate Lindy hopper. I've really only been dancing and trying to improve consistently for about a year, although I learned about five years ago and have been dancing sporadically since 2007. All of my comments are tempered by that relative inexperience.

To read all the posts in this series, click on the "Dancestravaganza series" tag.

After having not progressed in the Jack and Jill, I had my eyes set on the advanced track of lessons/workshops. To get into the advanced track, you attended a sort of mini audition. If you wanted to try out, you danced to several songs with different partners. The instructors watched and pulled the folks they think were advanced into the advanced track.

We did three dances and I danced as well as I could. It was a little sad, actually. As the dances progressed, the people who thought they were more advanced got more stressed by not being picked for advanced. My last dance was with my marine and we sort of looked at each other and shrugged as it ended. We were intermediate dancers. I gave him one of my We Won! high fives and said we were the winners. He looked puzzled at me, and I said, "Well, we're both here, so it has to be the winners level."

It's possible that's not how the Marines operate.

So a couple of things I've been proud of in my dancing are my hips and my strength. I may not salsa well, but I salsad first. My hips are prominent and I can jut them like nobody's business. And my upper body strength! I can bench press my body weight. That takes some strength. I am not a weak woman.

And in the first intermediate lesson, I was called out on... both of those things. As a result of trying to "make interesting shapes," I was totally over-thinking something as simple as stepping. In my rock step I was stepping too far back, jutting a hip, and basically breaking up all of the lines and athletic body stance you might expect to see in this dance. I was crouching and jutting with all my might. The instructor walked over.

"That rock step? Try to keep it more in line with your body. It just looks a little awkward right now."

The second thing the instructor told me was that I looked like I was getting jerked around on the dance floor by a lead who was most decidedly not my Marine buddy. The lead was shorter than me and, frankly, I could bench press the heck out of him. In attempting to wait until the last possible moment to decide which direction to go ("following on a dime" was how I was thinking about it), I was allowing my shoulders to be pulled out of line with my body, and was following through my arms rather than through my body.

These criticisms are totally valid, but I couldn't help feeling silly about them. "Hey, I'm strong!" I thought, "and my hips are rocking!" But then I spent some time thinking about how I've been approaching dancing a little bit wrong: shapes and following on a dime are less important than following well and with your whole body, and being connected to all your extremities (and hips!) and to the music. 

As my understanding of how to be the best dancer I can be changes, it will be interesting to see how it will change. Something Nina Gilkenson said in a recent interview, nobody can tell you how your body moves. For the moment, though, I am very grateful to the instructor. It made me reevaluate how I do things in dancing, and I think it will make everything more awesome in general.

But it was nothing like the revelation that was to come. Stay tuned for episode 3!

Dancestravaganzaaaaa Part 1: Competing: If you're going to wear red heels, you should probably have solid footwork

I attended the Lindustrial Revolution Lindy hop exchange in Charlottesville, VA on Memorial Day weekend. I had more fun than should be legal and gathered a lot to think about. In my somewhat obsessive thoughts about the experience, I wrote several emails to friends (mostly Emily). These entries are culled from those.

It's important to remember that I am an Intermediate Lindy hopper. I've really only been dancing and trying to improve consistently for about a year, although I learned about five years ago and have been dancing sporadically since 2007. All of my comments are tempered by that relative inexperience.

To read all the posts in this series, click on the "Dancestravaganza series" tag.

I decided to compete last weekend. Maybe it wasn't the best choice, but I don't think I was an absolute embarrassment at all, and I didn't take anyone else's opportunity to shine away, so that's fine.

How it came to be:

I was dancing with my favorite lead out of the city of Richmond. This was maybe my third dance of the weekend, and I was not in fighting shape. I had left work later than I expected, ran home, and had to buy power bars and wine (because I am learning to be a classy guest) from CVS (because I'm not that classy) before I left. Then there was a ton of traffic on the way down (because Virginia). All in all, I arrived maybe two hours later than planned. The bridge leading to the venue was out, so I parked a ways away and walked in. I didn't remember to bring an extra shirt, no no.

And lo, the lead asked me if I was going to compete in the Jack and Jill.* And I said no and laughed it off. And then I sat the next one out and chatted with a follow from DC. She was going to compete, she said, and asked if I was going to as well. I said I hadn't been planning on it, but... 

And then, in the way of two people trying to talk themselves into doing something, suddenly I had written my name on the list. I was wearing my bright red dance shoes. 

I have a weird relationship with competitions. I both want to shy away but have everyone look at me at the same time. I kept fantasizing both about missing the competitor's meeting and about advancing to the finals.

What actually happened, however, was completely predictable. I did not advance to the finals; neither did I die. I had a moderate amount of fun. I flailed my legs as much as possible, and I messed up my basic steps. I tried to cover my inadequacies with jutting my hips out, placing my arms in the air, and generally creating interesting shapes with my body. [Please note: this phrase will take on too much importance over the next couple entries.]

Walking off the dance floor, I thought about a few things.

1. A couple of my favorite dance moves are ones I've discovered from basically first principles. One is to kick while rock stepping, and one is to do a kick-and-step instead of a triple step. Both can be great in certain contexts, but I felt like they got away from me during the competition. My footwork could have easily been improved by not doing those steps.
2. The floor was absurdly sticky, as the organizers had not busted out the baby powder. I couldn't do any swivels whatsoever, and that's kind of a big deal in following. If you can't do swivels, you best be doing some interesting steps.
3. I was still wearing my bright red dance shoes.
4. ... See title of this post.

So the competition went exactly as you'd expect it to go for an intermediate dancer. I decided that this weekend was about learning and about broadening my horizons, and competing did basically exactly that.

There seem to be some unwritten rules closely around the dance scene. Out of respect, you shouldn't compete in things you know you can't win. You should reach a certain level before asking the experienced dancers to dance, only the instructors dance in the jam circles... the list goes on. Breaking these rules seems arrogant. 

Well, screw it. At this point i'll learn best and fastest by exiting my comfort zone and daring to break the rules a little (or maybe bread the rules, as I first typed. Then deep fry them). Also, at this point, I don't really know where I fit in as a dancer and how to get better. Maybe I am/was unfairly discounting myself.

Oh yeah, that was the other thing I was going to get a handle on this weekend. I was going to try to master that making interesting shapes with my body thing.

*Open and unchoreographed swing dance competitions are called Jack and Jills. The first round is open to all comers. They randomly match leads and follows, and dancing happens. An equal number of leads and follows progress to the final round. They randomly pair people up again and then each couple competes as a team. I probably should have mentioned this in part one.

June, the month of magic

It's only a day into June, but already I can tell it is going to be STELLAR.

• June 1: Friday night contra dance

June 1 a couple of things happened. My roommate left town for the weekend (sad, but she's going to a circus, so that's all right), my friend Terry came over to stay for a few days (hooray for not loneliness!) and my friend Becca and her girlfriend Caitlin came down from Cooperstown to stay for a bit (Becca for two months, Caitlin for two days). Very exciting times. Terry, Becca, Caitlin, and I went over to Bayou for a lovely dinner (and it was pouring rain out! I got soaked!), and then everyone but Terry (and, I suppose, Marie and Scott, who were in Philly by this point) went contra dancing. 

Oh, contra dancing. Why are you such a weirdly awesome thing?

A thing about contra dancing is that my skills from blues and swing don't transfer nearly as well as I'd like them to. I would really like to be able to waltz like a pro, because, after all, I can counter balance AND I can count to three. What more could there possibly be? But I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be able to move slightly differently than I do for this.

More importantly, Becca made a friend, Caitlin got flirted with, and a good time was had by all. This was, of course, augmented by the awesomeness of Glen Echo Park, which is just an amazing place hands down. Becca totally geeked out about the public/private partnerships and the community involvement and the learning and the civil rights protests and the arts spaces and the carousel and the Chitaqua and also Clara Barton and bandages? I don't know, it's a pretty cool space. 

• June 2: Brunch in Columbia Heights, successful acquisition of hiking boots, and a baseball game

The morning of the second dawned just as lovely as the first had been rainy. 

Watch this. It's important.

This is amazing. Technology allows us to have all our songs in an easily accessible format available to us forever and anywhere we want. But...

I think one thing that we're all, as a society, lacking is the social aspect that music used to mean. This man clearly listened to music in dance halls, with his family, singing aloud.

Maybe I should go dance at a nursing home. Hm.

How weight training has made me a better dancer

Those of you who know me know that I have, over the past year, become what some call a "gym rat" and what others call "in the top 2,000 on Fitocracy's leaderboard." I lift weights. Frequently. Passionately.

Because lifting weights isn't really something that most 5'2" 26-year-old women tend to do with any frequency, I get some questions about it. These have included the following:

• "Isn't that dangerous?"
• "Are you trying to look like a body builder?"
• "Won't you bulk up?"
• "But what do you lift?"
• "Why?"
• "Yoga is so much better for you."
• "Running is so much better for you."
• "Do you actually like it?"
• No, really, why?"

The answers to these questions follow thus:  no, maybe, no, weights, we're getting to that, nah, nah, absolutely, and OKAY FINE I'LL TELL YOU WHY.

Simply put, lifting weights makes me better. At EVERYTHING.* I can open jars of salsa! I can rescue a kitten from under a fridge! I can carry more groceries in a single trip! I can lift a box of paper without grunting! I have better balance in the Metro! I can run faster for longer! But what it's really improved is my dancing.

I am a lindyhopping swing dancer. At my best, I look a little like this:

...I mean, those are the instructors from whom I take lessons. So I am significantly less good. But yes! Lindy hopping! It's the best!

Weightlifting has helped me out in a number of ways to improve my lindy. I'll outline how:

1. Balance-- Thanks in large part to weightlifting, my balance is much improved. I used to be so clumsy and unsteady that my feet would routinely go out from under me if my center of gravity was a bit off. All that has changed! I now have a much better innate sense of where my center is, due in no small part to lifting heavy things over my head and not falling over
2. Stamina-- True, this could have come from running, biking, or simply dancing more often. But being more active and weight-training have helped improve my stamina. After four hours of dancing, I'm usually still wanting more!
3. Brute leg strength-- There are times, as a follow, when I have no idea what to expect next. Nowadays, I can literally just hop up and down on one leg indefinitely while the other person pulls me around.
4. Better tension matching-- Something a lot of beginner lindyhoppers get wrong is tension. Basically, you need it at all times. Any time you're connected, you need to match the lead's tension and be ready to follow through with whatever move he (or she) outlines for you.
5. Better able to hold my own with difficult leads-- Occasionally you'll encounter a leader who is less interested in dancing with you and more interested in wrestling. In these situations, I'm always grateful I can match the strength with which I'm being pushed around AND have the muscles protecting my shoulder joints.
6. And last but not least... I have the confidence to just go up and ask someone to dance. This is true in a lot of areas of life. Once you've bench pressed 95% of your body weight, little things like asking someone to dance are not as harrowing any more.

Honorable mention: Someday I'll be doing aerials, probably both as a lead and a follow, and when that time comes you can be sure I'll be pleased with my strength. Also, in part thanks to weightlifting, I look damn good in a dress.

Things weightlifting has NOT made me better at: The Backwards Charleston. Seriously, how the hell does that work?

So yes, weightlifting is awesome. It makes me better at dancing and at life. You should do it too!

*Also it is the easiest way for me to make a bad mood better and to prove to myself that I am a hugely strong and powerful woman and to challenge myself within the bounds of my own physical presence and it makes me feel both lighter and heavier on this earth and I have a better knowledge of how my joints and my muscles and my bones interact and... I just really, really, really like it.

Janelle Monae for Bond!

(Alternate titles: Janelle Monaes are Forever, On Her Majesty's Janelle Monae, GoldJanelleMonae, The Spy who JanelleMonaed Me, etc.)

Oh, James Bond. I don't know who doesn't love a good old fashioned overall heinously misogynistic tale of derring-do set in several improbable locations with at least one giant, improbable killer weapon. My roommate Marie and I certainly do. In fact, Marie sent me a mix with all of the James Bond theme songs for my workaday pleasure. And let me tell you, drafting tweets is certainly far more exciting when backed by a chorus of "View to a Kill" by Duran Duran.

Did you know: there's a new Bond film coming out! It's called Skyfall and it stars Daniel Craig as everyone's favorite sandy haired 007. It's shaping up to be an excellent movie, with one exception: rumor has it that the studio is in talks with Adelle and Michael Buble to perform the theme song.

Here's the thing. James Bond songs are unique, and the good ones have a similar quality. They're epic! They have a ton of brass! They're sexy! Most of the best ones are belted by awesome women! Remember Shirley Bassey singing Goldfinger and Diamonds are Forever? Of course you do. Here, listen to it while you read the remainder of this post:

That's not to say Adelle is not an awesome woman who can belt (she is) or that I wouldn't like to hear Michael Buble cover Tom Jones's Thunderball (I would). I just want to know who in Hollywood I need to bribe to get them to hire Janelle Monae instead. My reasons are outlined below.

1. Janelle Monae can SING.

Her range is three and a half octaves! Can you even imagine? No, you can't, because your head would explode from trying to contain all the awesome.

AND, even more than that, she can sing in a variety of styles, including the unique 1960s spy sexy soul/jazz/brassy genre that I am going to call "Bondy." Each of her songs is a bit Bondy, but the most Bondy is BabopbyeYa, but it's, like, seven minutes long. This is why I did not embed it, even though I wanted to.

BECAUSE EVERYONE SHOULD BE LISTENING TO JANELLE MONAE ALL THE TIME.

Besides, as she said in Blues and Soul:

"I mean, in terms of influence it encompasses all the things I love - scores for films like ‘Goldfinger’ mixed with albums like Stevie Wonder’s ‘Music Of My Mind’ and David Bowie’s ‘Ziggy Stardust’, along with experimental hip hop stuff like Outkast’s Stankonia.’"

Did you keep reading after she listed Goldfinger as her first major influence for her album? Yes? WHY? WHY ARE YOU NOT ON THE PHONE DEMANDING THAT MGM IMMEDIATELY HIRE JANELLE MONAE?

2. She ROCKS. 
Honestly? Adele is great. Like, really great. I love her! Girl has soul. But she doesn't, you know, rock. And do I even need to make the case that Michael Buble does not rock?

This is Michael Buble attempting (and failing) to rock.

And the Daniel Craig plays the new James Bond in a way that is simultaneously sexy, and deep, and funny... and he kind of rocks. Speaking of, do you know who else rocks?

Janelle Monae. Period.

3. Janelle Monae is about to have a huge year.
According to her Wikipedia page, and the source cited in the Wikipedia page, Janelle Monae is looking to release two full albums and possibly a movie (or series of music videos?) this year. She's touring with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Right now, there is nothing this woman couldn't do. Hollywood would be an idiotic and slow trundling beast to NOT make a bet on her. (Disclaimer: everyone knows that Hollywood IS an idiotic and slow trundling beast, but seriously, dudes. Do you want your opening credits to be worth the cost of admission alone? THEN HIRE JANELLE MONAE. Hire her like your life depended on it.)

4. Janelle Monae can totally rock a tux.


Seriously, have you SEEN this woman in a tux? It's her trademark uniform. And let me tell you, she looks DAMN fine in it. Damn fine.

Just look at that! I'll bet you were confused for a second. I'll bet you thought to yourself. "Huh! I know one of these people is a young Sean Connery of early James Bond fame, and the other one is Janelle Monae, a young breakout star known for her incredible vocal range, intense performances, and indefatigable energy, but I don't know which is which! They both look so good in a tux!"

Well, let me tell you something: IT DOESN'T MATTER. Nobody is going to accidentally hire Sean Connery to sing a Bond theme song.

5. It would make me really, really, unbelievably happy

That has to count for something, right?

6. I would be willing to settle for Janelle Monae starring in the next James Bond movie. As Bond. Janelle Bond. 

I realize that this is not really a reason so much as it's a way for me to hedge my bets. Because, here's the deal. I realize that Bond is a fundamentally British character, but is there a law somewhere that says Bond has to be a white male? Who can't sing? Also, is there anything in this world more fun than making Ian Fleming roll over in his grave? (Answer: absolutely not.)

It's time for us to have a female Bond. It's time for us to have a black Bond. It's time, quite simply, for Janelle Monae to be the next Bond.

But wait, you're saying. Wouldn't it be better for Janelle Monae to reprise Grace Jones's role as May Day from View to a Kill? 

Good call on the similar hair, other person I'm talking to. But in every other way, NO. Janelle Monae is not a villain, and she certainly won't be playing a maniacal foil to Christopher Walken's baby Nazi. (...I'm pretty sure, anyway. Reality seems to get fuzzy around Christopher Walken.)

In conclusion, MGM should be on the phone with Janelle Monae right now, despite the fact that it's 1am on a Friday morning. It's only 10pm on the West Coast, and just barely midnight in Kansas. She'd totally take your call, studio execs. And allow me to gracefully and preemptively accept on her behalf.

After all, she already has the tux.

I'm smart.

Really. It's not an exaggeration. Sometimes I surprise myself by just how mind-blowingly, awesomely smart I am.

My smarts aren't really limited to either book smarts or street smarts. I haven't been mugged at all while living in DC for three long years of wandering around alone late at night. More than that, I can explain to you, in depth, the concept behind a bicameral system of government and the compromises that early Founders made to get to that compromise. I can still tell you the quadratic formula. Hell, I can SING you the quadratic formula.

That said, there are many, many things I do not know. I have an understanding of how the parliamentary system creates a government, but, if pressed, I couldn't whiteboard the process. I can tell you what quarks are, but if you ask me to describe their movements and exactly how they go about making everything we see, smell, and touch, I don't know if I can. My understanding of science overall is probably something I could work on.

Oh, also? I'm funny. Yep, I'm super funny. It's difficult to prove when I put myself on the spot like this, but let me tell you about llamas. They're awesome, and they have bifurcated lips. Their lips are actually just like little finger tips, nuzzling each other and roaming around as they try to grab hay from your outstretched hands.

Oh, that reminds me. Ostriches? Terrifying. They are nine foot tall dinosaurs that will stop at nothing to get the food you are gingerly and foolishly offering them in your outstretched hand. They will give you blood blisters and their beady little eyes will not look sorry about it. But it's okay! You can go back to feeding the llamas, and nobody will say you didn't try.

But back to me. It's important for me to remember, on days like today, that I am actually, all around, a pretty awesome person. I like hanging out with myself most of the time. And when people question my competence and intelligence and instincts and then spew complete and utter bullshit in the most PC way possible, what they are really doing is revealing their own limitations.

And when they tell me that a process of seeking approval will actually streamline the process, it's not because I'm they think I'm dumb and won't notice the inherent logical fallacies in their statements.

No, it's because they are being exceptionally silly.

And, at the end of the day, it's also important that I point out that I am quite humble.

Take it away, Chaka Khan!

May the weekend bring only good things.

SUNDAY SUPPER FRANKS
8 frankfurters
1/4 c. peanut butter
2 T. finely chopped onion
1/2 c. bottled cheese spread
2 T. pickle relish

Split frankfurters lengthwise, but not all the way through. Combine the rest of ingredients. Spoon 2 T. peanut mixture over cut sides of each frankfurter. Broil until bubbly and browned. Serve in buns. 8 servings.
 

EURO! TRAINING!

I don't understand why everyone's looking at me funny in the gym. I'm just doing normal stuff, like front faced one-legged bench squats, Romanian basket crunches, and push jump blintz balls. 

Also, some jams to get you going:

And specifically the worst weight loss advice you've ever heard: The Worrying Way by the Fabulettes.

Story Telling

It's an art.

I'm always trying to get better at it, as I do tend to prattle on and I figure my audience might as well enjoy themselves. I try to figure out how to make people laugh, how to hook people in, and how not to get caught up in the details of things-- "So this one time my mom... well, he wasn't really my mom's friend, I think he was a coworker of my mom's? Or maybe the boyfriend of one of her coworkers? Anyway, somehow my mom knew him... wait, no, it was my Aunt's pastor! Okay, so this one time my Aunt's pastor..." because I value storytelling as a medium to express myself.
There are a lot of terrible stories out there. Not stories that are difficult to hear or stories of the baser nature of man, though those do exist, but stories that are uninteresting and poorly told.

 

God, Mary, NOBODY CARES.

I have a quiet voice. I always have and sometimes I think I always will. I can project (as my roommate who graciously endured me singing "Just Around the Riverbend" from Pocahontas this morning can tell you), but I don't always like how it makes me sound, especially in large settings. Sometimes I think having a quiet voice is an especially effective communication tool.

That said, I wish my voice had a really interesting quality. Like Eartha Kitt.

I also tend to live my life in a way that will lead me to have more interesting stories. Want to pretend to be pregnant to research crisis pregnancy centers and abortion misinformation? Do I! Should I be a narc as a covert underage buyer of alcohol working with the cops at 16? Absolutely. Would I help hang this sign up on a roof in Vermont, even though it's slick with snow and there are high winds and no handrails? Yes, please!

If I have to have an average voice, God, at least let me tell good stories. Just maybe not quite as good as this.

Fitocracy, fellowship, stationary cycling to Mordor, etc.

My mind, body, and possibly soul, have been taken over. By Fitocracy. Beautiful, beautiful Fitocracy.*

You can't see it, but I'm actively salivating right now.

It's such a genius system. You do exercises and you get points! And it is super motivating for me for whatever reason. 

Here's my current obsession. We're going to Mount Doom! (Please note: this was originally sent as an email to one Emily "Mac" McC.)

Apparently someone spent way, way, WAY too much time reading Tolkein ("But NO!" you gasp, "it can't be done!") and spent way, way, WAY too much time looking at the map of Middle Earth (I can hear you inhaling to make a point, but hear me out) and managed to calculate the milage that the Fellowship went during each stage of their journey.

Yes. This is apparently a thing.

This week's quest is as follows: 

"The road goes ever on and on..." 

The One Ring has been found and it is up to you and your companions to get it to Mordor and into Mount Doom, a distance of 1560 miles! The Atlas of Middle Earth by Karen Wynn Fonstad breaks down the journey by day. For instance the first week is 135 miles. This continuing quest series will go week by week through the trek to Mount Doom from the Shire. 

[A] Complete the week's distance in combined endurance activities split amongst you and your 8 companions. 
[N] Complete the week's distance in combined endurance activities split amongst you and your 3 short, hairy footed companions. 
[H] Complete the week's distance in combined endurance activities split amongst you and your stalwart gardener companion. 
[H+] Complete the week's distance in combined endurance activities on your own. 

Week 1? I took a spin class. It was one of my less good decisions in life. 

1) Spin bikes are far, far, FAR more complicated than real bikes. If you turn them on, the wheels spin by themselves! and you're not going anywhere!

2) Your foot can come out of the pedals! and the pedals don't stop! Mine didn't, anyway!

3) I. Freaking. Hate. Cardio. (That isn't swing dancing.) For serious. Who thought this was a good idea? I blame Pheddipides. DAMN YOU PHEDDIPIDES FOR INVENTING CARDIO. (I don't actually hate cardio, but it's not my idea of a fun time.)

4) Okay, so you know the saddle of the bike? It gets deeply in touch with some really personal parts of your body. And then also you stand up and sit down while pedaling a bunch of times. And so... I think I'm sore? On my vagina? (I'm sorry you had to read that sentence. So, so sorry.)

5) The other people on Fitocracy really can't figure out what the concept of a "group" is. We had a group. That group had a post/comment thread. We moved it over to the forum. Every Tom, Dick, and Sally are all jumping in on this being like "ooh, I too went several miles today!" and I just want to be all "WHO DIED AND MADE YOU ARAGORN? BACK UP"**

6) This exchange actually totally happened: 

Me: So, how many miles was that that we just did? 
Spin instructor: Wow, I've never had someone ask that before. 
Me: Really? 
SI: Yeah, I know the average calories burned, but no one asks miles... let me check. 
Me: Huh. 
SI: Why do you ask? 
Me: Uh, my friends and I are having a competition. It involves going 135 miles in a week. 
SI: Have you tried running? 
Me: ...Sort of. 
SI: 20 miles. 
Me: YES!! 

So yes, Fitocracy is apparently my friends.

Emily replied:

Oh man.  I'm so glad I couldn't sleep and got my computer back out and that this was here.  Hahahahaha Who died and made you Aragorn hahahahHAHAHAHAHHA.  This is amazing.  (Also?  I'm sorry.  Why would you get out that map and try to calculate mileage?  Like, why wouldn't you just pick an arbitrary number and CALL it the distance to Mount Doom?  I know the answer is "because these are Tolkein fans and it's the Internet and They Will Check Your Math" but also REALLY.)
Dooce has the same complaints about spinning.  Between the two of you I'm quite sure I'll never try it.  Unless possibly the Nazgul were on my tail.

And then I replied to her:

I'm so glad you found this entertaining. Do you know what doesn't find this entertaining and still hurts this morning? ...never mind.
...I just realized this might be going on for as many as ten weeks. I'm going to DIE.
TOLKEIN WHY THE FUCK IS MOUNT DOOM SO FAR AWAY CAN'T IT BE CLOSER PLEASE I'VE GOT SHIT TO DO AND SPIN CLASS IS RIDONK

That first week a user by the name of BioNerd and I went to Mordor together. It was great. We ended up going 136.5 miles together. He was Frodo, I was Sam, and we ended up in Bree with the other revelers.

But it meant a LOT of time on the stationary cycle. And, as Boromir says...

Week 2 I took a bit of a breather and joined a larger fellowship to go to Weathertop. I only had to do about 9 miles walking. This was infinitely easier, but doesn't make for funny stories.

Week 3, our questmaster (ChasingBoston, so-called because he's trying to run a marathon that will qualify him for Boston, etc.) apparently had a really busy week. By Tuesday afternoon, he had not posted an update to the "We're going to Mordor!!!1!" thread. Which was weird, but no matter! I have google fu.

Me: So, um, hi everyone. I don't know what's going on this week (is UCQC having a rest week?), but I looked up the distance from Weathertop to the steep hills of the Trollshaws, and it looks like it's 121 miles for this week. Who's up for another week? 

Everyone: Yaaay

Everyone: logging logging logging

ChasingBoston: Sorry for the huge delay everyone, my week has been completely insane. The One Ring Quests will return on 11/21 with some tweakage. 

BioNerd (remember him?): If you take a look at CB's most recent CON posting, it looks like no journey to Mordor this week, but they resume next week. Which should prove interesting for me as my gym is closed Thursday through Saturday (college campus; Thanksgiving break) and snow plus exercise induced asthma will reduce my outdoor capabilities. Perhaps I will pace in a long hallway...

So Week 3 was called off and the battle for Week 4 was on. Please note, Week 4 was also the week of Thanksgiving. I had to drive 1050 miles from Virginia to Buffalo, NY to Cooperstown, NY and back to Virginia. Although I walked 14.5 miles in addition, it was not quite enough to get my team across the finish line. Also...

A user called Thirteen wandered into our team's thread (remember, our team is kind of an amorphous blob anyway) with the following message:

Thirteen:  You wander past the forge and into the equipment shop, where you're immediately overwhelmed by the smell of leather, oil and some of the stranger reagents from the magical supply section. To your left, you see a small noticeboard. 

>look noticeboard

Yellowing handbills and flyers are held to the board by rough tacks, but most are months, if not years old, the adventurers who posted them doubtless long dead. You notice one newer-looking sheet, painstakingly hand-lettered on red paper, pinned to the far right of the board.

>examine red flyer 

Help Wanted 

We require a honed and well-fettled warrior be to hire on as a mercenary for the week with The Four Apocalyptic Riders of Epic Questing, a legendary band of quasi-anti-heroes set to combat the forces of law and oppression wherever they might be found.We're a rider down due to the holidays, and we can't have an apocalypse without one... 

We'll probably need about 50km from you once the rest of our mileage for tomorrow is added up. 

BioNerd responded:

I like law, but oppose oppression. I should certainly be up to 50km by the end of the day tomorrow, as the stable for my unmoving steed shall be open again, and it looks unlikely that my friends and I will be able to jointly finish this leg as is.

GOD I love fitness nerds. On the other hand, BioNerd was poached! He was wandering up and down a hallway for a team that was not mine! It was a MORDOR FAIL last week and I take my role as Samwise pretty seriously. This week? IT IS ON. Only 92 miles to Rivendell, and I just sent BioNerd a PM asking if he wanted to be the Frodo to my Sam again. (Is that weird? It's maybe a little weird.)

********

So now I have a weekly "My Trip To Mordor" newsletter going out to my friends, trying to recruit them to come with me (and maybe turn them into Fitocracy zombies...). Let's be clear: prior to Fitocracy, I would never have spent any significant time on a stationary cycle. I would never have made it a priority to go to the gym five or six times a week. And I certainly wouldn't be planning really intense workouts using major lifts just so I could level up faster.
This is all thanks to Brian Wang and Dick Talens,*** a couple of gamer nerds (with HILARIOUS NAMES) turned body builders:

Brian Wang and Dick Talens, ladies and gents. Try to contain yourselves.

In conclusion, THANK YOU, FITOCRACY. I realize this entire entry might be impossible to parse for someone who has not heard me waxing on and on about it, but yes. There it is.

* What is Fitocracy? you ask. Join first, ask questions later.
**Please note, I'm not usually this violent, except after weight lifting when I decide I want to punch a mountain. Also, I didn't understand our group's purpose on Week 1, which was to log our activities and then shake out the group makeup based on performance. Nobody was doing anything wrong, but me being angry is hilarious, so I kept it in.

***And the rest of the Fitocracy team. I love you all.