The burden of being observant and kind

There is incredible burden that comes with being simultaneously observant and kind.

For starters, you're always noticing great ways to help others.
For another, you notice all the time how very often, you're the only one.

I'd argue that this combination can be exhausting. Ones who share such a burden think, "I'm always the only one noticing the old lady with the groceries and helping her cross the street," "How come I'm the only one who thinks to send the thank you note?" "Why am I the only one who understands how freaking loud that ridiculous Dyson air blower is in this bathroom and some people who might have sensitive ears like I don't know maybe this infant in the room might be bothered if I use it to dry my hands for an exceptionally long period of time?"

First of all, take a deep breath.  If this is you, you aren't the only one. I swear! There are tons of people like you! And there is hope!

I've deduced that there are four types of people in these possibility-of-helping-another-if-only-someone-was-paying-attention situations:

1. Kind, but not observant.
2. Kind and observant.
3. Unkind, but observant.
4. Unkind and unobservant. 

Situations:

Type 1: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person, seated, does not observe the pregnant lady's situation and therefore doesn't think to give this lady his or her seat. (Perhaps someone taps her on the shoulder and points out the pregnant lady. Then this kind person will give up his or her seat for the pregnant lady.) I believe there are lot of people who just don't pay attention, no matter how big their hearts are.

Type 2: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person, seated, notices the struggle and invites the pregnant lady to take his or her seat.

Type 3: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person, seated, notices, but does not want to give up the seat to anyone, as getting a seat is hard. Perhaps person type three will justify not giving up his or her seat because they had to stand the last time, or perhaps they let an old lady sit there once before. It's someone else's turn to give it up. Being unkind also doesn't mean you're conniving, it just means you don't want to go out of your way to do nice things for strangers.

Type 4: A pregnant lady gets onto a crowded subway. This person doesn't notice because they're too busy pickpocketing the old blind man in front of her.

I'd also like to point out the bystander effect. Perhaps we see someone in need of help and assume someone is coming for them. For example, a car blinking on the side of the highway. We assume, "they've got a tow coming" or "someone else will help." I'd argue that the widespread use of cell phones has helped millions of Americans escape the perils of a flat tire or a dead battery, but it has also created an alternative scapegoat. I don't think it's right to assume "someone is coming," however, I do see its justification.

It's fair to say that these four people "types" are fluid. For example, you may be an observant person, but if you're always looking at your phone or stop practicing your observation skills, you become less observant.

There is the possibility a person started out as kind and observant, and over time, became a little hardened by noticing general disregard all of the time. This is the burden I'm talking about. It is exhausting to constantly notice how shitty people treat each other. It can lead to some serious cynicism.

On the other hand, you may be very kind, and decide you want to help people more often, but you rarely know how. Being alert and on the lookout for situations where you can lend a hand helps. Keeping the thought on your mind gives you a greater awareness of those around you.

Being a thoughtful and observant person has its burden.

Yesterday as I was walking up to Starbucks, I noticed there were two entrances: One was a double door — the kind where you walk through a small room to get to the actual entrance — the other went straight into the Starbucks. I noticed the doors and I thought to myself, "hmm, it's furiously cold out. I should use the double door because then people won't get as bad of a chill."

I posted up in Starbucks and spent the next hour being blown in the face by one hundred people using the single door. Some even threw open the door and it didn't shut behind them.  I am one of four people who used the double door during the entire hour I was there. Even the Starbucks workers didn't think to put a sign up that says please use other door because it's cold.

It's not that people are bad, or trying to make everyone in the Starbucks cold, it's that they just aren't making this observation and applying it to possibilities for the future. Kind people walked through the single Starbucks door, obviously. Unless you're a supervillian, I really doubt any conniving ass holes walked through the door thinking "I'm going to make everybody freeze!" Unlike me — the freak of nature —  people just didn't think about it at all.

Nonetheless, If you're one of these people — the thoughtful, observant and kind — it is imperative that you not give up hope.  Surround yourself with the kind of people who take pleasure in the amazing people around them. Surround yourself with the kind of people who would give their seat to the pregnant lady on the subway. 

In the end, I would rather be the kind of person who thinks about doing nice things and does it, than someone who thinks about it and doesn't?

I'd rather pull up close in traffic so the person behind me isn't stuck in an intersection, even though nobody will ever know that's why I'm pulling up.

I'd rather see my neighbors garbage bin rolling down the hill and put it back in its place, even though they will never know it wasn't properly put back by the garbage collectors.

I'd rather notice the little boy with the armful of books who's about to walk into the library behind me and push the wheelchair button . (I also have an empathy theory that refers to how a kid in high school pushed my books out of my hands and pushed me on the floor  (I know wtf?!) but this blog is getting long.)

I believe that cynicism is a horrible and contagious disease of the heart. I don't think it does any good for anyone.

Subsequently, I believe doing nice things for people is good for your heart. It makes you feel good, even if nobody ever sees. Because you see.


I am not good at distracting myself on a train, so I will likely remain observant until my brain fails me from observing. I don't see avoiding observation skills to be a choice. If I'm going to be observant for the long haul, then I'm stuck deciding between two options: Am I going to be unkind or am I going to be kind? Am I going to open my heart to the places it needs to spread or am I going to avoid eye contact and cynically justify the shear numbers of how little helping one person could make on the world?

The answer is obvious.

100 things cooler than my phone

I took this photo at the Mona Lisa while visiting the Louvre.

I just read about a new fear called nomophobia — the fear of losing your phone. A survey found that 77 percent of people aged 18-24 years old felt they had some sort of this fear. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I'm thankful for Google Maps that get me around the godforsaken pile of spaghetti they call roads in Pittsburgh and great Snapchats of unexplainable things to my best friends, but for the love of god 77 percent?

People are always on their phones. I once sat in a room trying to spend time with like six people from college I hadn't seen in months... and their idea of hanging out was sitting on their phones. I ended up leaving early and going on a sweet walk or something.

I made this list with 100 things that are cooler than my phone. I'm not sorry that at least 34 of them are food and beverages.

1. Mustard
2. The last green leaves holdin' on for dear life and holy chlorophyll on the trees in October
3. Golden Retrievers
4. Winning the lottery
5. When icy roads get salted before you need to drive on them
6. The sun peeking through the cloud all like "HEY! IT'S ME GOD!"
7. How to Train Your Dragon
8. How To Train Your Dragon 2
9. Positive vibes
10. Cloudless sky
11. Cards Against Humanity
12. Napping
13. When the brakes on your car work
14. When you drive down a huge hill after just filling up your Prius and your fuel economy reads 100 MPG and you're all like "I HAVE A CAR FROM THE FUTURE."
15. Having a license plate with an otter on it
16. The fact that paying for stranger's coffee is a thing that happens frequently
17. The first 70 degree day in the spring
18. Downton Abbey
19. Hiking
20. Feta cheese
21. Penguins
22. When your favorite book becomes a movie... and it's actually really good
23. People who use the word whom correctly
24. Red wine blends
25. Board games 
26. More specifically, word board games
27. When I don't have to explain what a copywriter does
28. When you run into another Ohio University Bobcat 1,000 miles away from Ohio
29. Climbing on top of giant rocks and shouting profanity
30. Having actual designated pajamas that you wear every night
31. Curiosity
32. National Public Radio
33. Catching every green light on a long road
34. How quickly poop stories escalate
35. Emerald Green
36. Using map my run after a jog and finding out you've gone longer than you thought
37. Getting actual physical pieces of mail from friends
38. French fries that still have a little bit of potato skin on them
39. Giant pickles
40. Books you can't put down
41. The Moth radio hour
42. Dog adoptions
43. Amazon Prime
44. Cold winter air filling your lungs on a run
45. Finally peeing after having to hold it for way too long
46. Genuine in person compliments
47. Buffoonery
48. The person who decided putting fruits like berries and apples on salads was a good idea
49. Vanilla ice cream
50. Velveeta shells and cheese
51. Coffee naps
52. Voting
53. Getting quoted in the newspaper
54. Hockey
55. Fleece
56. Not referring to college as the "best years of your life"
57. Scarves
58. Getting tomato juice on airplanes
59. Waking up feeling good before your alarm clock goes off 
60. Getting to Chipotle right before the lunch rush and not having to wait in line but then you look behind you and the line starts to form and you're all like "hell yeah, my timing is perfect."
61. The actually well done news stories side of BuzzFeed
62. Crayons
63. The first sip of apple cider in the fall
64. The crazy drugged-out person always talking to himself on the bus
65. The insane amount of inspirational metaphors on The Biggest Loser
66. Nurses
67. The fact that Betty White just turned 93 and she's peaking
68. Twice-baked potatoes
69. The invention of ground turkey to replace ground beef
70. Meaningful lyricism
71. Marching bands
72. The smell of a blown out match
73. Pop culture references
74. Glass ceiling crackers
75. Cracker crackers
76. Fresh new kicks
77. An oddly trafficless commute
78. Ab-hurting laughs
79. Sharing dessert
80. Gift cards
81. Paint
82. Seeing children at restaurants without tablets in their faces
83. Being invited to your neighbor's 4th birthday party — especially when it's dinosaur themed
84. Diving to ship wrecks 100 ft. under the sea
85. Chapstick
86. When two friends start dating and everybody's baffled they didn't think of how perfect they were together
87. Smoothies
88. S'mores
89. Nachos
90. Having a clean car in the middle of January
91. Actually taking the time to understand other religions
92. Family dinners
93. No phones at the dinner table rules
94. When you aren't the only one who isn't on her phone
95. People who make a point to keep their phones away while they're driving
96. Being able to confront humans when there's been a miscommunication or we're feeling confused or upset
97. Looking people in the eyes
98. Giving actual, physical hugs
99. Having actual, real conversation
100. Spending actual, physical time with a human being

Twenty four things I have learned in the last year.

I started this tradition on my 20th birthday. I remember writing it in my 12'x18'6" dorm room (yes, super long and skinny, but suspiciously perfect for dancing). I excitedly shared bits and pieces of my thoughts with my bubbly roommate Kelley as I wrote. I'm not the same person I was when I wrote my 20 things, and I'm thankful for these written ideas, as not often do people have such a concrete list of their priorities and newly gained insight each year. I didn't think this list was going to be a thing, but I think after four times, something becomes an official thing. I just made up that rule, but it's a good one.

I couldn't have guessed all of the things that would come and go in my life in just four short years. Since the autumn that I wrote my 20 things blog, I've fallen out with people I really cared about, failed miserably at the job search, and cried in my father's arms about what the hell I'm suppose to do with my life. I suffered with the rest of the world in watching greed, disagreement and intolerance turn into anger, resentment, violence and terror. I held the hands of friends gone to hell and back, watched them battle depression, addiction and pain. I gave the eulogy at my grandfather's funeral. I laid my childhood friend to rest, and I grieved over the losses of four people younger than me in just one year. I experienced incredible anxiety and stress over my future and the thought of losing my friends and family.

I was reminded of life's brevity, yes, but I also learned of life's incredible worth. I experienced sloppy, wet bucketfuls of joy in my life every single day. I fell in love and learned what healthy meant. I traveled across the world, surprised myself, and spent a year nannying for the most amazing two boys and awesome family. I stood next to my cousin as she committed her life to her best friend, became closer with my brother when he moved 2,507 miles across the country, and surprised a sister a long drive away. I hit the jackpot in the job search, dove down to shipwrecks at the bottom of the ocean, and celebrated and cultivated incredible friendships — some brand new, some twenty years old. I met and lived with my soul sister and two black cats, moved to a new city, started a new career, found my inner athlete. I restored my faith in humanity through long runs, coffee dates and StoryCorps tears.

At the end of it all, the world still awaits. I celebrate the fact that I am still so young, and I thank the people (and animals) who have made me who I am. Because I'd be a super boring, lonely person without their conversation, advice and gooey warm hugs.

Internet, I give you this year's 24 things I've learned in the last year:

1. People who don't think dogs are worth the shedding don't understand dogs.

2. Joy doesn't just happen to certain people by chance. Joyful is a state of mind that is deliberately chosen and cultivated.

3. Being a writer actually means being a reader who occasionally strings words together. 

4. There are better uses of your time in line than on your phone. Look up people!

5. Or how about I just forego the phone altogether? Forget your phone sometimes. Spend time with people who won't be on theirs the whole time you're with them. And hang out with people who will tell you to put yours down. Those are the kinds of people who get it.

6. Surround yourself with giants. I am currently working with brilliant minds! The things I have learned in my short time at this company have taught me so much. And it's because I'm surrounded by people who, not only are incredibly intelligent, but who have included me in on the conversation. They've brought me into meetings and interviews and let me write for big projects from the start. Surround yourself with people who are going to help you grow, and who won't squander your ideas or make you feel small.

7. Watching childhood friends grow into real, functioning and amazing people is a very wonderful thing. 

8. I used to think lateness had to do with a person's character... and then I moved to a city where parking was impossible. 

9. Be the friend who pays for the coffee. 

10. Be the 'first responder friend'. Be the friend who is going to answer the phone, grab the pot of coffee, and head over at 2AM when there's been a eureka! moment, a bad break up, or somebody needed to eat Lay's and french onion dip with.

11. Be the friend who doesn't ask questions when your best friend borrows your favorite T-shirt and then holds onto it for a little over four months because you know she's enjoying wearing it all of the time. Of course this is really just because you have like 45 articles of her clothing still and don't want to have to give them back.

12. Surely you can't be serious. Nothing should be taken too seriously. When we take things too seriously, we get offended. When we get offended, we become sour and bitter. And as I've aged, I've found I don't like either of those flavors.

13. Don't call me Surely.

14. Writing requires a lot of vulnerability. When you write, you're basically putting your panties on a line for people to critique. When you write about yourself, it's like taking those panties, turning them inside out and showing everybody their skid marks. You have to expect people to forget that those are your mistakes, and thank them for pointing out your poo.

15. There are some kinds of people who don't understand that they have the option to write their own books, make their own maps. Show these people that this choice exists. Give them a taste of what it's like to create something.

16. Your online persona is not an accurate representation of your life, your relationships or the quality of either.

17. Cynicism is a disease. It's a contagious, contagious disease that I have decided to quarantine myself from.

18. Good stories need to be told. People crave real, powerful and beautiful stories. 

19. You can learn a lot about a person's soul by what they think is funny. 

20. "Once you live a good story, you get a taste for a kind of meaning in life, and you can’t go back to being normal; you can’t go back to meaningless scenes stitched together by the forgettable thread of wasted time." - Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

21. The older you get, the more you look forward to Thanksgiving Day with family than what is under the tree Christmas morning.

22. Make every day extraordinary. Days fall together when you let monotony take hold. Weeks go by quicker when you do the same thing every day. Don't live for the two days tacked on to the end of the week. Do extraordinary things with every day of your life. You'll remember them.

23. Life is about giving someone else your last piece of gum. 

24. I am by no means wise, I am by every mean still learning. 

See: 
20 Things
21 Things
23 Things

Two things we can't forget about Beauty at Every Size.

After being told for 24 years that my body wasn't perfect enough -- by the media, by myself, by my gym, my peers and more -- I tried something new.

I stopped listening.


Every time I thought a thought that made my chubby cheeks feel like they didn't belong, I told myself to shut up.

Every time I heard some comment on television about crazy ideals of beauty, I didn't let it get to me.

Every time I tried on pants and had to choose between fitting my waist or my muscley legs and ballet-given booty, I'd just start twerking the crap out of the dressing room.

Eventually, I started to see a me that I liked when I looked in the mirror.

I'm telling you it wasn't always this way, and not every day is perfect, but when I stopped counting the pounds on the scale and started counting the pounds I could dead lift or bench press or row-- when I started counting my miles on the pavement -- I immediately started loving myself more.

There is a beauty at every size movement that's been going on around me and I got really excited about this because I'm a huge proponent for this very truth. I think it's great that women are joining together and forgetting the silly standards that have been put out there... but I have two cautions we need to keep in mind for this trend:


1. Body acceptance does not mean we don't have to take care of ourselves.

There are some sizes that are not healthy and it isn't okay. Body acceptance is good, but no one who is morbidly obese can be living a full life. Having to sit out of things is not living life to its full potential. Being sick all of the time is not living life to its full potential. You must take care of yourself. Living with the health issues associated with obesity is no way to live.

Obesity causes THOUSANDS of other health issues, but here are ten, all of which are life-threatening conditions: Depression, Reproductive Problems, Cancer, Diabetes, High Blood Pressure, Stroke, Kidney disease, Osteoarthritis, Sleep Apnea and Asthma.

Celebrating curves does not give us a Get Out of Health Free Card.

Childhood obesity has more than doubled in children and quadrupled in adolescents in the last 30 years.

The number one killer in America is heart disease. Its number one cause is obesity.

Obesity is one of the leading causes of breast cancer, a leading killer of women. New research finds that "An increase of two skirt sizes per decade, between the mid-20s and mid-50s could increase breast cancer risk by 78 per cent."

I'm not blaming the victim either. I understand that obesity is a deep problem with tough roots and thousands of factors.  In college, I studied extensively the various socioeconomic factors related to obesity. It is an epidemic that America's poor are malnourished, yet morbidly obese. It is an epidemic that we have to feed our children boxes of cancer-causing food because that's the only thing we can afford. It is an epidemic that people aren't receiving the proper education about nutrition and the human right that is health care they deserve.

Those of us who know about health and value nutrition are obligated to work towards teaching others about healthy living.

Those of us who have battled with the shit that comes with obesity and the self-harming extremes of dieting and not loving your body that are pushed on us by society must work towards helping others.

We cannot stop prioritizing healthy living because body acceptance is a thing, although it is a beautiful start.

2. This being said, body acceptance must come to love every size. 

This is hard for me to say. For a long time I've been very ashamed of this because I didn't want to be a brat for speaking up about being small. But I have to say it: Beautiful at Every Size is not Beautiful at Every Size Except for Size 0s. It is not Beautiful at Every Size except for Size 2. It is Beautiful at Every Size, you get it?

I mean, it's AWESOME that Meghan Trainor is dancing with curvy women singing about grabbable booties. Who doesn't love a grabbable booty? (and I actually really love the catchy song) But they're straight up hazing a skinny girl in her video. Why is the skinny girl's size not acceptable, too?

Look, I am a size 0. We exist. I'm not a size 0 because I starve myself, and I'm not particularly always 100 percent of the time in love with my body. I have fat on my legs, too. I have weird butt dimples in the muscle from the time a trailer fell on me. We can't keep thinking that to be this size you have to have serious body issues. Some people just are this size. Because it is a size too.

So why has it become so popular to bully skinny people now in popular culture?

I guarantee those petite women have some real self-consciousness inside of them too.


If we can't accept women at every size, then we're just back to where we started -- we'll just have gone to the other end of the spectrum and neither does anyone any good. 

From both ends, it's important that we just simply start taking care of ourselves and people around us. There are people who are naturally skinny and eat garbage every day. There are people who are naturally larger and they're healthy as can be. 

We need to love the way we look and be proud of who we are, but if we aren't working towards becoming the best versions of ourselves that we can be, then what reasons do we have to be proud of who we are?

Embrace Beauty at Every Size, but don't forget to be inclusive and to not stop taking care of yourself too.

The Story of the Extroverted Introvert

Erin, Are you an Introvert or an Extrovert? 

Those who know me know this question is silly.

I'm ridiculously outgoing (and super annoying).

But it's actually a question I've asked myself a lot lately as I've moved to Pittsburgh and had to really make an effort to meet new people.

It's weird when you move to a new place because you kind of forget how you made all those old friends in the first place. You are no longer surrounded by thousands of people your age that you know. It forces you to take a good look at what you want in a new relationship and a deep dive into who you are.

I always took being called an extrovert as somewhat of an insult. I mean, I'm a writer! I'm supposed to fly-on-the-wall the crap out of every situation! I can't break down that fourth wall and actually gather my own life experiences, right? To participate and observe creates a skewed, conflict of interest to a story, right?

I spend a lot of time with myself. I like shopping alone and eating alone. I like watching boats pull bigger boats down the Allegheny River on my lunch break. I like putting up my ENO hammock and hanging out by myself as all the sidewalkers stare. So naturally, I thought of myself as an introvert.

But I think I confused introversion, independence and observation skills as being mutually exclusive.

I thought because I was able to spend days hanging out with myself and not getting self conscious -- because I could go out to lunch with myself without feeling the need to stare at my phone -- that I was an introvert. Really, it's just that I am independent.

When it comes down to it, as in most areas of life, we can't simply organize ourselves as one way or another. Humans are more complex than that. Even when we gather MORE boxes and MORE descriptions (like the ever popular Myers-Briggs tests), people still don't fit into our tidy little categories.

There are super self-conscious extroverts and insanely conceited introverts. There are extroverts who hate talking in front of others and their are introverts who can sing the Star Spangled Banner in front of millions on national television.

Introversion/Extroversion really explains where you get your energy from.

The other day, we bumped into someone who I think it's safe to call a legend in the organization I was involved with in college (called Younglife) at Dave & Andy's (an awesome homemade ice cream shop in Oakland).  He and his family had just moved to Pittsburgh to start a new YoungLife chapter here and I had known this from mutual friends, but had never actually met him. Casually, I approached the man and we held a titillating conversation for a few minutes before I got my strawberry ice cream and we headed on our way.

As we walked to the car, licking our cones, I was bouncing off the walls. My boyfriend pointed it out that my energy level literally changed because I had just met a new person. He laughed. hard. Because we've argued before whether I'm an extrovert or introvert. He was right. My attitude and mood after meeting this new person had gone from 0 to 60. So obviously so that it was kind of hilarious.

Ultimately, my confidence, extroversion and independence all come from the same roll of quarters. They all work together to make me who I am.

Everybody is different and it's really awesome to see how we all fit together.  We need all kinds of people to make it all work.

While, introversion and extroversion are things we need to know about ourselves in order to best take care of ourselves, there are also different skills that make us who we are that we can practice and perfect. These can change as we change.

It's so important that we all figure out where we get our energy (you probably already know this answer). It's important that we figure out the skills we love about ourselves and keep practicing them, and that we figure out the things we're awful at and, after scrutinizing them, we exercise them.

You are a unique person with some kick ass skills that you can use to make the world suck less.

Forget what box you fit into and figure out who you really are. Then go be that person. Be the best damn version of that person you can be.

Signed,

The independent, somewhat introverted outgoing extrovert who enjoys hanging out with herself but also gets really excited about meeting new people.

Update: I was approached about this blog and told that I'm not an extrovert or introvert because I'm an ambivert — the person who fits in between. My point in this blog is to show that people are complex beings, inadequately categorized from simply getting their energy from alone time or social time. To take this blog and attempt to categorize my feeling that every person is unique completely misses the point.

People Observation: Cat videos killed the curiosity

My next door neighbor is a professor Emeritus of Physics. He's an incredible man who I could chat with all day. On the subject of our college town's academic quality, I asked him what he notices with students these days compared to those he's taught in the past. He gave me one answer: they just don't have any curiosity.

He teaches physics. His students are studying to be scientists. But they never seem to care anymore to know the fascinating answers we are finding to some of the universe's biggest questions.

My neighbor's observation isn't unaccompanied. I've noticed this myself.

I babysat for a wonderful little boy who has a creative brain that I loved to pick. While many people find Right Brains to be the math experts, I would argue the most successful problem solvers are the ones who can best mix that Left Brain creativity with that Right Brain critical thinking to find unique and new routes for finding solutions. This boy I babysat is one of those people. His math homework was kind of a mess, and he loved to use one of those extra smooth and inky purple pens to write his answers (which drove me kind of nuts). His answers were always right, but he always seemed to find them in ways I never understood. One day, he brought home a couple of wrong answers on a math quiz. He was very discouraged. He said his teacher told him he wasn't good at fractions. I was livid. What kind of third grade teacher tells an eight year old he isn't GOOD at something? Then, as I looked through his answers, I found she was the wrong one. The questions had been ambiguous, and when the boy attempted to ask for clarification, he was shot down. Only because this boy had misinterpreted a quiz question was he told he was incorrect, and even worse, he was told he wasn't good at it.

We have all had similar experiences: When I was in second grade I used to get really excited about the books we were reading. If I read ahead I would get in trouble. (Sidenote: My brother Sean used to read ahead to parts in books with swear words -- obviously 5th grade swear words like hell and ass-- so he could volunteer to read out loud during the raunchy parts of class novels)

Eventually this getting in trouble for our curiosity takes a toll on us. We get sick of our excitement about all of our questions. We're told our questions are stupid. So we stop asking. Eventually, the only questions we ever ask are, "is this going to be on the test?"

As a young person who was insanely curious in college, I felt this kind of punishment all of the time. See my story about getting a C- in a class I took for fun.

But I have found that the rewards for my curiosities always outweigh any kind of "punishment" I'd ever receive for them. Rewards like further understanding of people who aren't like me (or, as it turns out, end up being more like me than I think). Rewards like empathy. Rewards like meeting new people and noticing the little nuances and paradoxes of every day life.

I've talked about New Years Resolutions before. They're an easy way for me to make a drastic change towards becoming the person I believe a person should be. I like to do drastic things (mostly so I can brag about them but also) to test myself and learn something along the way. This year, my resolution was that I wasn't allowed to look at my phone while I'm in a line.

You see, people are looking at there phones everywhere they go. Every single line you've stood in in the last three years has been loaded with phone lookers. And I hate it. I absolutely LOATHE it. People constantly checking their screens are missing some incredible stuff.

We miss the eye contact with strangers at a coffee shop that turns into the observation that they, too, visit the same coffee shop every morning, which maybe then becomes a friendship. We miss the opportunity to ask people about their days. We miss noticing the puppy walking down the street. We miss real, genuine smiles to and from strangers that over the course of an entire day can change a person's emotional wellbeing. The things I notice that others don't notice baffles me. The things I've noticed and enjoyed since this year's No Phones While Waiting rule baffle me.

While you watch that video of that (probably adorable) kitty on your phone, you're missing your own cat's short nine lives. While you're letting your child sit on that tablet at the dinner table, you're missing an incredible conversation about his life -- he is missing an incredible interaction with his family.

Here's the truth: Nothing on your phone will ever be more remarkable than the person sitting in front of you.

I would like to challenge you to tickle your curiosity muscle every now and then. I would rather have friends who don't know but want to know than friends who know everything. I would rather have friends who can find answers with me than friends who tell me all the answers. (Chances are if you think you know everything you're probably wrong because there is no possible way that you do.) Read ahead and find the swear words. Get distracted with a new hobby. Use your freaking imagination.

There is nothing more attractive than a person who has curiosity.

Put down your phones and step away from your screens. Because they don't have the answers. Go explore the world.

Find Your Math

Friends and I working hard in high school math class.  

Lately, I've read a bunch of lists on Buzzfeed and the Clymb about things you think about while you're on a run, and they're probably true for most people. But there is something they all fail to mention that I spend doing at least two thirds of a run, no matter the distance: Math.

As my feet hit the pavement and my heart works my butt off (literally), my brain maths all the math it can math.

I calculate distances and time and miles per hour. I calculate the number of houses I've passed and what my average house per minute is. I take educated estimates on how many trees are in a forest taking into account acreage of its area and average tree trunk sizes and distance between trees and other absolute absurdities. I look at my watch. And then I try to speed up and calculate my time and miles per hour all over again.

I calculate calories and heart rates and what percentage I've finished of my run. Dang, that's a lot better than having to positive-think my raging heart through to the end of a jog.

I'm a distractonaut. I live for the exploration of distractions. I lay in my bed and thoughts unravel. Plans for my life and death unfold,  bills and loans to be payed pile up on the hall table of my mind, and the to-dos of weeks and months to come lay their heads onto the pillow next to me. At my desk, it's a fight to make sure I keep my keyboard-tapping fingers on the task at hand. It's a challenge to not be constantly thinking a million miles a minute about anything and everything that's happening outside the refrigerator I like to call my office.

On a run, though, I ignore all that garbage. And I just math.

If you hate math, this probably sounds repulsive to you, but god, thinking about math is so much better than running each step at a time and thinking about the next step and the next and the next.

Mathing on a run is my favorite distraction. I don't have to turn it in or pay it off or tell anybody about it later. Hell, half the time I don't remember any of the solutions or equations to tell myself. If math isn't your schtick, find your something that gets your brain occupied on other things for a while. Things that don't matter.  You don't have to be running to give your brain a break from the world. Do it while you're meditating or laying in bed or taking a minute on a park bench during your lunch. Write a little story in your mind. Think about good memories. Think about something you don't have to remember to write down or do later. Think about pie. Or, if you're like me, think about pi.

Even for an insane extrovert like me, solitude is where I find my sanity. Find your math and run with it.

People Observation/No More of That: Musical Snobbery

photo courtesy of The Verge.

This blogpost is inspired by a post a good friend of mine named Eric put on Facebook a couple days ago reading this: 

"Helplessness Blues is a great album by the Fleet Foxes. So late to the game."

First of all, Helplessness Blues is amazing. Eric, I'm so glad you found such a wonderful album. So many feels. 

Second of all, I know you didn't mean it in this way, but IT ISN'T A GAME! 

There is something empowering about being unique, the first, or one of the few in the realm of knowledge. It makes you feel special, I understand. This stupid thing that happens in fandom that I have dubbed Musical Snobbery, however, has got to stop.

I've explored a lot of genres. I like to sing music and play music and dance to music on a morningly, afternooningly (that's a word..) and nightly basis. With the exception of country music sap songs because those are awful, I like music that grabs my heart straight out of my chest and gives it a good smackin'. I like music that leaves my heart alone, but instead yanks at my brain and tickles my curiosity HQ. I like lyrics that mean something. I like lyrics that mean nothing. I'm a classically-trained Soprano with a secret love for a little bit of screamo. (I guess it isn't a secret love once you put it on your blog.) I can recognize a Strokes' bass line from three houses away. I can shout Bruce Springsteen lyrics at the top of my lungs and only mess up on the parts that he's mumbling his face off and I've never understood.  Just like most of you, I, too, had an emo phase. And going to college in Appalachia turned me into a lover of anything with a banjo. I'm lookin' at you, Steve Martin.

In high school, I took advantage of the surprisingly awesome bands that would come through Columbus (thanks for being a good stop-through town CBUS!), and -- without any actual expenses -- I spent every last dime that I earned at my minimum wage job on the relatively cheap basement shows. Possibly like you, I have memories of talking to bands after shows and accidentally elbowing middle school girls in the face for being the worst crowd members in the history of rock. 

While 90s music envelopes the brilliant nostalgia of early Generation Y, I find the early 2000s to be a musical dark age.  I thank heaven for things like Myspace, which would eventually lead the way for new and creative musicians to gain followings without having to sign to a major record label.  I love the things that are happening currently in the music world (for the most part). (Sidenote: It isn't a coincidence that the 90s and now are both musical eras of awesome as pop culture cycles every 20 years... but that's another blogpost for another time).

Alas, here we are. With so much music being home-brewed and accessible to fans all over the world every day, I can see how a subculture of music snobs could emerge. In every kind of category and hobby and subculture of anything you've ever seen or heard or smelled, there's always some group of snobs trying to make it exclusive. (It's all somewhat preschoolesque in a Neener-neener-neener-I-know-something-you-don't-know kind of way). 

But what kind of true fan of a band would want to hide the music they enjoy? 

I have friends from college who stopped liking Mumford once everybody knew who they were. Why wouldn't you celebrate their success? Why would you not want something you love to live on? 

A true fan of a band would want to support the band and share it with people, not keep its supposed awesomeness to him or herself. Hide it under a bushel, no; blast it in your car with the windows down and scream it at the top of your lungs. 

Take these non-musical, yet also applicable references: I love Bob's Burgers. I need everyone else in the world to love Bob's because without their according fandom, Bob's will get cancelled. (See: Arrested Development.) My love for the Columbus Blue Jackets represents a similar situation. I've loved the Blue Jackets since their Inaugural season in 2000. No true fan would get upset that a bunch of bandwagoners are hoppin' on after this year's playoff run. More fans leads to more tickets, jerseys and other random crap with a CBJ logo on it, which leads to more money, better players, and thus, a better team. As Paul Brown used to say, "There's always room on the bandwagon."

Don't let the hipsters fool you. Music is meant to be enjoyed regardless of how obscure it is. Classics are meant to be heard. And thank God for it too. Cheers to all of those times I was recommended a great song or band, and double Cheers to the times they have led to friendships and experiences and, a lot of times, easing some pretty harsh pains. 

Which takes me right back to Helplessness Blues: 

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking,
I'd say I'd rather be A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

The music game is not a game. It's an awesome collective of fandom and shared experiences that were meant to be shared. You are a functioning cog in some great machinery of amazing sounds and lyrics and beats serving something far beyond a little music ego. 

My message to hipsters: Revel in the obscurity of the songs that you find. Enjoy that strange sound that tickles your ears in a way you've never heard. And then, when you've downloaded it (probably illegally) and played it on repeat for ten or twenty times straight, share the crap out of it. Good music is meant to be heard.