On Lily's Playlist: "If I Had $1000000"

Okay MGF Readers…a new feature. Tuesday’s are going to be “On Lily” (Yeah, yeah Lenny…I know you want to be on Lily too.) In case you didn’t notice, I like to write and talk a lot. Outside of the blog, I’m usually talking about my other passions in life: Music, books, food, and movies. So I thought I’d share some of my favorite stuff with you! To kick it off, we see what’s on my ever present iPod. Where are we going next week? You’ll just have to come back and find out!

Like most people in the U.S., I first heard the Barenaked Ladies when a little ditty called “One Week” hit the airwaves in the late 1990s. I remember hearing the song for the first time and thinking “Wow! That was different…I hope they’re not a one hit wonder!” The Canadian quintet of Steven Page, Ed Robertson, Tyler Stewart, Jim Creeggan, and Kevin Hearn bring a mix of quirky lyrics and eclectic beats that makes any BNL song stick in your head after the first listen through.

The music genie granted my wish, and the Barenaked Ladies stuck around. They have developed a very committed following and given us more hit songs like the angst-ridden-but-you-can’t-help-but-sing-along “Shoe Box” (my 4th favorite BNL song) to the laid back and soothing “Pinch Me” (my 2nd favorite BNL song). All the while, they have remained the same bunch of fun-loving guys they were when the group formed in 1988. Don’t believe me? Check out their personal videos on their official website www.bnlmusic.com.

Like most music lovers, tunes have a way of stirring up emotions when I listen to a particular song. The symptoms are usually the same. First, I notice the notes and how they blend together creating the sound of the song. Once the music catches my attention, it’s not long before I start really listening to the lyrics. As a previous post stated, I love a good lyric. Once it passes that litmus test, mentally I try to relate the something. It could be an attitude, a mood, or even someone I know.

When I heard “If I Had $1000000,” I never laughed and cried so much at a song in my life.

I first heard BNL’s “If I Had $1000000,” as an acoustic version on a CD made by a local radio morning team. If you are a BNL fan, you’ll know that the group is famous for being pretty spontaneous and witty. So when the opening strains of the song came on, I was already excited to hear it. Then the first verse of the song came on:

“If I had $1000000 (if I had $1000000)I’d buy you a house (I would buy you a house)If I had $1000000 (if I had $1000000)I’d buy you furniture for your house(maybe a nice chesterfield or an ottoman)If I had $1000000 (if I had $1000000)I’d buy you a k-car (a nice reliant automobile)If I had $1000000 I’d buy your love...”

My first thought was, “What’s a k-car?” (I felt immediately stupid because they explained that is was a nice reliant automobile). The next thought was “What an awesomely sweet song!” As it went on, the song snowballed and took a life of it’s own. I immediately fell in love with the song after one listening.

In my head, I imagined a guy singing to his girlfriend about all the things he would buy her if he had the money. My friends pointed out that the line “If I had $1000000, I’d buy your love,” was kind of shallow. My answer to them? You’ve never been in love, I guess. “If I Had $1000000” had everything I wanted in a hokey love song. It was sweet, without being sickly. In short…it gave me the warm fuzzies.

And who wouldn’t get all warm and fuzzy as you listen to Ed and Steve go on about what they would buy for their girls with $1000000. Among my favorite items is the offer to buy a monkey (Yes Lenny, I still want a monkey), purchase John “The Elephant Man” Merrick’s remains, take a limo to go to the store, and build a tree fort in the yard (And that’s why I want a tree fort, Sam).

Humor is infused into the song in between the verses as the vocalists banter about some of the items that they would get. One line in particular cracks me up every time. Upon declaring that if they had a million dollars they would eat more Kraft dinners, one says they would also buy expensive ketchups with it. “Buy all the fanciest…Dijon ketchups…mhmm…” DIJON ketchup, people! What the heck is that?

It’s a song that possesses lyrics girly enough, but the music isn’t so sappy that a novice Romeo couldn’t pluck it out on a guitar. It’s a simple song…but it’s so damn cute and funny that I’ve listened to it over 40 times since loading up BNL’s Greatest Hits CD on my iTunes three weeks ago.

So if you get a chance, take a listen to the song. Even if you’re a love song cynic, you might find something for you in “If I Had $1000000.” If it isn’t love…it should at least be a laugh! And if you don’t feel anything – loosen up for Pete’s sake! It’s just a song!

Warning: Faulty Asian

My husband, Lenny, sat at the landing of our staircase. I was seated at the coffee table working on last night’s blog entry. He made an attention getting noise and I looked up at him.

“Can I help you, honey?”

“Lily, check this out.” He chuckled and continued, “I’m reading this for my Masters class.”

I looked up at him and smiled. Lenny doesn’t usually share what he’s reading unless it’s useful, poignant, or funny. I wondered what it would be today.

Clearing his throat, Lenny recited in an amused cadence from his textbook. “Asian-Americans are generally viewed as successful, law-abiding, conforming, and high achieving. Their school behavior is much in keeping with those perceptions…They tend to dislike having attention drawn to them as individuals.” Lenny choked slightly on the phrase but soldiered on, “Many have been socialized to listen carefully, think before they speak,” at this point, I started laughing, “use soft voices, and show modesty…”

By the time the word “modesty” came out of his mouth, both Lenny and I were on the floor laughing. Finally catching his breath, he peeked between the banister railings and said, “Baby, you’re a Faulty Asian!”

“You know what, Lenny?” I commented gasping, “If that’s the definition, you’re damn right I am!”

Ask anyone who knows me. The words “quiet” and “modest” aren’t the first things that come out of their mouths when describing me. Now, I’ve been told that my personality is “adorable” and “energetic.” But more often than not, those words are preceded by terms such as sarcastic, caustic, and sharp. Oh, and don’t forget LOUD. Lenny always likes to point that one out.

No, these are not the typical traits of an Asian or even an Asian-American. Face it, the first thing that popped into your head when I mentioned the word Asian was probably that of giggling Japanese school girls covering their mouths while they laugh. Or perhaps it is the demure Chinese lady who looks down as the men in her family do all the talking.

My family, try as they might, tried to make me a lady. But stubborn old me just refuses to fit into a preconceived mold of “ethnic femininity.” I am proud to say that my interests are very well rounded and influenced by my upbringing here in the United States. I still clash with my Mom on how I’m “supposed” to act as a Filipino-American woman.

But this conflict is not unusual to just Asian-Americans. This problem of “fitting in” is a dilemma with anyone’s family that comes from different cultures. If you have to tack on a hyphen and “American” to the end of your ethnic description, you totally understand what I mean. We “hyphenates” (as my friend Ian and I decided to term it over the summer), have a very unique conflict: To some family members, we’re not ethnic enough. To some Caucasian Americans, we’re not white enough. And to ourselves, we’re not “me” enough.

I don’t know how many times I was corrected as a little girl by my mom whenever I would proudly say, “I am an American.”

“No you’re not. You’re Filipino.”

As I got older, my answer became, “I’m Filipino-American.”

To which my mom would reply, “I don’t care if you were born here. You have Filipino blood.”

Holy intimidating identity crisis, Batman! It didn’t make sense when my Mom presented it to me. It was as if she was telling me that if I didn’t make the Filipino part of me bigger than anything else, I was in danger of losing it. Here I was born in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave, but I had to stay carbon copied into my heritage. To my teenage brain, I questioned why my family moved here if we were just going to be stuck with the same thinking that made them leave the Philippines to begin with.

In hindsight, I understood their need for me to accept my ethnicity. However, I still contend that while my culture is part of my identity, it is more important that people be true to THEMSELVES. People like me because I read books, because I love baseball, because I play piano, because I am a smart-ass that rarely backs down. They enjoy my company because I am smart, well spoken, and caring. No one loves me just because I’m a hyphenate. That would be tantamount to me turning to my friend Ian and saying, “I like you because you’re Canadian. And that’s about it.”

I absolutely despise it when hyphenates get together and pick on other hyphenates for not being “more ethnic.” It’s ridiculous. Of course I’m not going to be a completely Filipino person…I WAS BORN IN THE UNITED STATES. I have different experiences and stories from my cousins who live in the Philippines. And it’s awesome when I get to talk to them, because that exchange of information is vital to our family. I learn more about my people and culture this way. And that’s the kind of cultural awareness I seek. I don’t want to use my hyphenate status as a crutch. I would prefer to use it like lipstick…something that highlights the whole me.

And that’s the way it should be. Hyphenates should embrace themselves. By embracing who you are as a person, you are embracing your ethnicity and culture. I’m pretty sure many of you who fall into this category would never think of abandoning your culture (OMG…I can’t give up Filipino food!), just remember that it’s not 100% you. There are many components to you. You were not born a completed puzzle. You have pieces that still need to be picked-up. It’s the different looks, sights, and sounds of others that make this world interesting.

After we finished snorting and guffawing, Lenny picked himself off the stairs and joined me in the living room. Sitting himself next to me, he put his arm around my shoulder and smiled. Still giggling, I leaned against him and said, “So…are you going to return me, seeing as I am a faulty model of Asian?”

Pulling me close, he laughed, “Nah. You kind of grew on me. And besides,” he added kissing me on the top of the head, “I already took you out of the box. They won’t take you back.”

“But can you imagine the restocking fee if they did, Lenny?”

I'm A (Cute) Little Teapot

I surveyed the sales floor sitting before me. My eyes glazed over with the euphoria that most people reserve for the highest of highs. I hadn’t stepped into my favorite store in over a month. A few moments ago, I was the embodiment of relaxation and tranquility as I locked up my car and bid my husband a quick adieu in the parking lot.

But once inside the welcoming cocoon of store, my hand twitched. I had been planning my trip in here since I woke up this Sunday morning. The hairs on my neck stood straight up. And a goofy smile was plastered on my face like I was high on something. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath and whispered:

“Hi, my name is Lily and I am a clothes whore.” Opening my eyes, the smile got bigger, “And I’m damn proud of it.”

I am not afraid to admit that I LOVE clothes and shopping for them. I’m always looking for something new and unique to add to my wardrobe. No store too small, no mall too far. My husband is so used to these habits that when we hit the mall, he knows all the stores I go to that actually have chairs so he can sit while I shop. I am constantly on the internet looking up websites, window shopping if you will. Every six months, I clean the house out of the numerous fashion and shopping magazines that accumulate in the corner of the living room.

I’m just like your average woman. I love clothes and shopping. The only thing is…I’m a plus-sized gal. I am a little teapot, petite and stout.

That being said, I’m sure a lot of you are going, “SO WHAT?” Truth be told, it is a big deal. In a day and age where beauty should be in the eye of the beholder, it’s often in the eyes of a skinny beholder. A quick glance through a fashion magazine or a thirty second glance at the TV illustrates that our society still digs a stilted definition of beautiful. A charming personality can only take you so far. Don’t believe me?

Remember the backlash when Cameron Manheim won an Emmy for her character on “The Practice” and screamed in her acceptance speech that “This one’s for all the FAT girls!” Why have Roseanne Barr and Carnie Wilson gotten gastric bypass surgery? And why can’t Kirstie Alley decide if she wants to the “Fat Actress” or a skinny one? (This one I wouldn’t worry about, I don’t like her anyway. But that’s another blog for another time.)

I’m not saying that I’m anti-skinny. Beauty should come in all forms. But why is the world anti-Woman of Size? It’s this kind of attitude that can make it hard for a plus-sized clothes horse. And judging by what I see on a daily basis, it has taken a toll on many big girls like me.

My maternal grandmother taught me that, regardless of size, you should always take pride in your appearance. Those quick to judge would say that this is a shallow statement. But having taken this advice to heart and having embraced it wholly, I can tell you it has done wonders for my self-esteem and confidence. Nothing beats walking into a presentation knowing your stuff AND looking good. You know you have totally strutted across a dance floor in your favorite club outfit and asked someone to dance. Everyone has their favorite picture of themselves because everything came together all at once: The hair, the smile, and the clothes on your back.

The way you dress yourself affects your attitude, pure and simple. And while the world still defines who’s beautiful by size, the options for plus-sized women have grown tremendously in the last 10 years. So it kills me that women in the same boat as me let their size hinder their wardrobe selection. Everywhere I look, there is defeat in the eyes of the woman wearing her husband’s faded plaid button down, baggy jeans, and sneakers. There is no joy in her eyes. She’s merely existing.

Dammit! I’m not going to take it anymore. Lily White won’t sit by and let these women (who I HOPE are reading this) suffer. So tonight’s blog is meant for you, Plus-sized Sisters. It’s time to reclaim the light in your eyes and the confidence in your step! Step right up and read MGF’s Plus-Sized Guide to Looking Good!

1. Learn to Look in the Mirror – Okay, nothing scares me more than scales and looking at myself in the mirror. However, looking in the mirror is the only way you are going to see what works for you. So, get over yourself and learn to like looking at yourself. I’ve never been skinny, but I love myself anyway. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I don’t look anything like Angelina Jolie. You should too.

2. Try to Remember the Compliments You Receive – Mine your brain. What was the last nice compliment you got about your looks? Was it your eyes? Was it the cute top that you got on sale at the store? Did someone whistle as you bent over to pick up something you dropped? Mentally write them down and dwell on them. Dwell on them a lot. You’ll be surprised at how this immediately changes your outlook.

3. Use Media to Your Advantage – While I enjoy picking up a Cosmo Magazine and reading it, I don’t necessarily look at the models, I look at the clothes. Why? The models in those magazines look nothing like me. And really…what real life woman does look like them? They’ve been airbrushed to within an inch of their life! Glean magazines and TV for IDEAS, not exact specifics. One of my favorite magazines is Lucky (www.luckymag.com). They have this one section called “Four Girls, One…” Each month they give four women a piece of clothing and they incorporate it into their wardrobe. Genius I tell you. Want models that look like you? Check out Torrid’s website (www.torrid.com) or buy a copy of Figure (www.figuremag.com). They use actual plus-size women in modeling their clothes.

4. Know Where to Shop – Slowly but surely, industry is realizing that plus-size women are willing to spend their hard earned cash to buy quality clothes. For quite some time, the fashion forward Lane Bryant clothing chain was the only place to get cute, age appropriate clothing. While Lane is my store of choice (witness the intro to my blog today), I am finding more and more places are revamping their plus-sized lines to reflect their buyer’s tastes. Standard retailers such as Target, Mervyn’s, Wal-Mart, Fashion Bug and JC Penny’s have not only got a Plus-Size section, but they also have a Junior Plus-Size department to outfit the high school and college set (and sometimes, the clothes are cuter there than in the regular plus-sizes). Old Navy recently joined the craze by opening up plus-size sections in select stores and online (but wouldn’t it be nice, Old Navy, if you put them in ALL the stores?). Different sizes, different budgets…there’s a store out there for you!

5. Accessories: The Great Equalizer – The best thing about accessories? They’re one size fits all. You don’t have to go to a specialty store to buy a purse or scarf. And shoes? I don’t think I have to explain that one. The right purse, necklace, or pair of shoes can make a $50 outfit look like a million bucks. Keep an eye on media (as referred to in point #3) for the latest trends in accessories.

6. Stick to the Fashion Basics – What’s this you ask? To me this is twofold. First, it means buy clothes that compliment your body type. Sure, they sell a mini-skirt in my size, but I’m not stupid enough to think it will actually look good on me! For the plus-sized, keep in mind that you don’t want to add anymore bulk to your frame. Not sure what looks good? ASK! The ladies (and the one guy) that work at my local Lane Bryant are awesome when I need suggestions! Secondly, remember some basic fashion rules like my “one solid, one print” rule which basically means never mix your prints. Once again, if you’re not sure...ask someone for help!

7. Make Sure It Fits – What do my dress-up clothes and casual clothes have in common? They fit me and my body type. Fashion is all about shapes and silhouettes. You can buy the most expensive suit in the store, but if it’s two sizes too big, it still looks like crap on the wrong body. So whether I’m all decked out at work in black trousers, pearls, heels, and a cashmere sweater or hanging out in jeans, bead bracelets, low-top Chuck Taylors, and a t-shirt I’m secure in the fact that it looks good because it FITS.

8. Only Spend If You Have To And Spend It On Quality – While I love shopping, I love bargain shopping even more! Nothing beats finding that cute crochet cardigan you’ve had your eye on for months on the 50% off rack. Let’s face it, we all shop based on a budget. Be aware of prices. And most of all be aware of design. You don’t want to spend $100 on a plain white t-shirt that falls apart after the first wash. You want to spend that $100 on a basic black dress that you will wear over and over.

9. Buy Clothing Staples and Buy in Pieces – In my closet I always have pants and skirts in the following colors: Black, gray, khaki, and denim. Why? These are closet staples. I’m always going to wear them. Sure, I find pieces of clothing that fall outside this realm, but why mess with the basics? They are the building blocks to your outfit. So stock up. Buying separates also maximizes your clothing options. I have a pinstripe blazer from a suit dress that I use with many different outfits. You’d be surprised at how different it looks against other materials and looks. And don’t be afraid to buy the same thing in multiple colors.

10. A Little Cosmetic Can Go A Long Way – As girly as I am about clothing, I don’t wear a lot of make-up. It can get expensive and time consuming to wear it everyday. So instead, my make-up routine is simply lipstick and perfume. They’re both quick and easy to apply (and more importantly, can be applied on the run). I have several tubes of lipstick in my purse at all times. Keep it simple and not too flashy. My current everyday color is “Tea Rose” from Sonia Kashuk (available at Target). It’s just enough color to enhance my lips, but not overtake my face. And perfume? Well, they say that scent is a quick “attitude adjuster.” I’d love to be able to afford a bottle of Clinique “Happy,” but budget constraints let me wear Demeter’s “Gin and Tonic,” which is close enough.

The above ten tips are really only the tip of the iceberg. But they’re more than enough to make any woman (plus-sized or not) shine.

So go out there and reclaim yourself, Women of Size. If you look good, you generally feel good. If you feel good, everyone notices. No one likes a killjoy. When was the last time the “Downer Chick” was successful person? It’s all in the attitude girls! And the attitude starts with how you get dressed in the morning.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out how smashing I’m going to look at work tomorrow!

Guest Blogger: Cyber Castles by Elusive Orchid

Hello MGF readers! I'm off to support some local arts tonight, so in my place is our very first Guest Blogger. Thanks to Elusive Orchid for her contribution. Enjoy! - Lily

I finally have a place to rant.

But first a little bit about myself. My name is Elusive Orchid (pleased to meet you), obviously a pseudonym. I use this name not because I am mysterious or anything of that nature, simply because I don’t like to be tied down to any one single thing. I like my freedom and my friends would say I am highly spontaneous.

I am a smart-assed, sarcastic, adventurous, fun-loving girl. Recently divorced, now happily single (more on those topics at a later date). I am a student, mother, teacher, lover, photographer, writer…in short, a Modern Girl Friday.

When Mrs. Lillian T. White asked me to contribute to her blog I thought “What an awesome idea!” A forum where real women can voice their opinions on real life issues (we all have them, afterall). I also figured “Hey why not, I love to write and what is funnier and more ironic than real life?”

I have been writing since the age of 8 and I haven’t stopped yet. I will admit though that writing has taken a backseat to photography these days. Though I don’t write as much as I used to, I still find the time to let my creative juices flow every now and again.

For the women out there reading and hopefully commenting/contributing to this blog, I hope it makes you think, laugh, reflect and give you a much needed sense of sisterhood. Remember, all of us no matter our social class, upbringing, culture or geographical location share commonalities, not the least of which is our femininity. Be proud of being a woman and a modern one at that!

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Cyber – According to the Encarta thesaurus, synonyms for cyber include fake, replicated, pretend and imitation.

The Modern Girl Friday is intelligent and techie oriented, so in this twenty-first century, with technology running rampant, it’s not surprising Lillian and I met on a cyber chat site. In the beginning we talked in the public forum. Eventually we ended up chatting on Yahoo IM and found we had a mutual chat friend in common. This mutual friend happens to be a male and this is where the story starts.

Lillian (or Lils as I like to call her) and I have been deemed “natural flirts” by our online cohort. We have lots of fun teasing, being sarcastic and just enjoying life. We simply go about our business and hang with our “group” of regular friends. We do however like to cause a bit of trouble now and then, nothing serious just our “natural” flirting and mischievous streaks making themselves known.

What Lils and I have noticed is that a lot of other women on this site don’t particularly like us. It seems that men would rather converse with us then have cyber with them (not that we would cyber). We regularly get comments like “She got another one” or “Don’t you have enough men to talk to?” Now realize Lils and I talk to these men about every subject under the sun. We can both carry on lengthy and intelligent conversations about a myriad of topics. This is just us…don’t ask us to change who we are just because you don’t like being ignored.

Probably the main reason women seem to dislike us goes back to our mutual friend, let’s call him Sam. Sam is also a natural flirt and is extremely talented with words. He has a way of making any woman he chats with feel special. He also has a very enigmatic and charismatic personality, which is rare, both in real life and online.

Well it so happens that the three of us are very good friends, one might say we have developed a “unique” bond. This bond comes through when the three of us are in open forum. We challenge each others’ intelligence and demand each others’ laughter. This just leads to us laughing our asses off. We are simply playing for laughs and nothing else. Because he pays more attention to us, many women feel that Lils and I are “stealing” Sam, denying them their “dream” of snagging this so-called perfect man.

Now that is simply is ridiculous. One, how can anyone “steal” someone? Each person has free will after all….right? Two, these are words being typed and read on a screen. Hell, for all anyone knows the person on the other side of the computer is a total fraud. Three, helloooooooo…this is online, not real life! We are here to waste some time and have some fun…nothing more…nothing less. Four, our trio has real lives outside of chat. Chat serves a recreational purpose, a diversion if you will from our real lives.

Five, I will say it again, helloooooooo…this is online, not real life.

This begs the question of how can people delude themselves into believing online is real life?

Let me give you an example. There is a “cyber” couple on this forum. They are both married to other people, have kids and live quite a few states from each other. They have this “cyber” marriage and have had it for quite a while. They literally spend hours on chat and yahoo together. It seems the majority of their real lives are taken up online.

There are two questions that pop up with regards to this situation. If they expended as much effort on their real life marriages as they do on chat, is it possible their real lives might be better? If they are as unhappy in their real life marriages as they claim, would it not make sense to leave? It’s not like a real life spouse can magically get booted off the system once the computer is shut down. Real life relationships only get better when partners work together.

For those of you out there gasping or shocked at this revelation, trust me. This couple is just one of many “cyber” couples out there. As a matter of fact there are many married people on this site that have online significant others. I’m not saying that if two unattached people meet online it can’t work out, I am simply saying that online relationships shouldn’t take precedence over real life ones. There has to be a line drawn somewhere.

Another problem with these online “relationships”, and I use that term loosely, is the amount of gossip they churn out. It seems the majority of chat is taken up with speculation. Who’s “dating” who, who dumped who? It’s like high school revisited, and god forbid if one chatter is linked to a “desirable” candidate of the opposite sex. At that point, jealousy runs rampant. Lils and I will more often than not sit back and laugh at the immaturity being displayed.

While we can ignore this childish behavior, we do find it extremely amusing most of the time. To the two of us, it makes no sense to be jealous of someone you have never met. In all honesty we find jealousy to be a wasted emotion. The feeling is one better off thrown in the trash. The online world is supposed to be fun, silly, and a way to de-stress from real life. It becomes a problem when the lines between reality and cyber become blurred or disappear all together.

Even I, someone who is completely adamant about living my real life first, can see the allure of cyberspace. It’s so easy to be bolder, flirtier, beautiful and more intelligent when anonymity is the name of the game. The online realm is all about how you type and what you say. This isn’t a personal voice conversation, there’s time to think about what you are typing. Mistakes can easily be erased before you hit “enter.”

I however prefer to let my true self shine through, both in chat and in real life. There should be no difference in one’s personality in any situation. I actually think people should be able to be more real online. There is no one to judge you for your looks, your clothes, those material things. Let’s face it, when you meet someone in person, the majority of us go by that first physical impression. Being online, the physical is not a factor.

If you find your online personality has more fun than your real life one, work to make it a reality. Rather than reserving the flirty, devil may care woman for the cyber world, integrate those characteristics into your true personality, after all they must be there. If that attitude can come through in chat it is a real part of you, maybe it just needs some unearthing.

So…a word to the wise…live your real life first and don’t build cyber castles in space. Let online remain what it should be…diversion.

It's Not Like You're Trying A Dish With Onions

I have not, nor have ever been, considered a “Wild Child.” There’s a pretty good reason for it. And that reason, ladies and gents, is FEAR. As the oldest of five children, my parents (especially my mother) exerted quite a few rules on me. Did I mention that my parents emigrated here from the Philippines? Our household was a mix of old and new world sensibilities. But for a long time, I felt like it was 90% old world, 10% new world.

Never was this more apparent than when I started my adolescence. According to pop culture, news agencies, and various accounts from friends and loved ones, the teen years are the start of rampant exploration. They meant sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll (or as in the case of the 90s, hip hop). I did not get the memo on that one. In my teen years I explored libraries, the fine art of Filipino cooking, domestic activities, and found a love for classical piano music. I explored these fields because my family expected me to.

And since I didn’t know any better, I never questioned why I couldn’t go out to the dance after the football game. Or why even I wasn’t allowed to go to the football game. It never crossed my mind that that cute guy in chemistry was actually flirting with me because it was hammered into my head that I didn’t have time for a boyfriend. Nor did I ever have the inclination to sneak out and defy these orders – the mere fear of WHAT my parents could THINK of as punishment was more than enough.

Contrary to what you might think at this point, I don’t hate my parents for laying down these rules. Parenting doesn’t exactly come with a hand book. And let’s face it, teenagers today are freaky. However, as I transitioned from high school to my two year stint in college, I felt like I missed out on something.

So when I did start college and started traveling with the Speech and Debate Team (OMG I am such a nerd!), I decided that I wanted to spread my wings and partake in some good old fashioned rebellion. Getting a scholarship to a local junior college to compete on their Forensics (“Speech, not dead bodies.”) squad opened the door to social liberation. The fact that I was traveling about every other weekend to different college to compete, and often for three or four days at a time, it was the first time I was without parental direction. This was it. This was my chance to become a true bad ass.

But standing at the entrance to reckless abandon, I balked.

My college experience was going pretty well. I had made many friends from many walks of life. I was living up to performance expectations in school and competition. I had moved to a relative’s house to cut down on my hour drive to school. I was stretching my wings and feeling fine.

A college Speech and Debate tournament is just a version of college life debauchery condensed into a three day schedule. During competition, we were very serious. However outside of the rounds, there was a lot of fraternizing between schools. By fraternizing I mean “sex” and by a lot I mean “a shitload.” Both the four-year schools and the two-year schools competed against each other. Because of this, there was a great mix of diversity in age, culture, and intelligence.

I met a lot of people my first year of school during competition. One of them was a guy we’ll call Steve. Steve was a re-entry student at another community college in the same city as mine. He was much older than I was. Thinking about it, I’d say Steve was in his late thirties, early forties (I might be feeling generous). Both of our teams got along well as most people hung out with people from their region. Steve and I competed in most of the same events, so we talked frequently.

We started talking a little more and I noticed he’d take care to single me out from the rest of the girls and give me attention. This was, at the time a new experience for me. I’d never dated in high school, nor did I notice (if ever) guys paid attention to me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. But think about it – the frumpy girl has an admirer! Of course I was flattered, but tried very hard not to show it.
One night, we all got together again outside of school for a performance on my college campus. Many family and friends attended. Afterwards, the teams decided we were going out to eat. Since I had driven myself, my parents gave their okay and told me to be careful. So we went to the Boar’s Head. Steve sat with me all night, arm around my shoulder or holding my hand. In my head, the twinges of “this is wrong” started to ring out, but my heart was going a mile a minute with a “just relax and have fun” chant.

People began to peel off the group and head to their own beds. Pretty soon it was just Steve and me. He suggested that we go for a walk. It was a pretty mild night, so I grabbed my jacket and purse and we took off. We chatted about a number of topics. Despite the tactile affection I allowed him to do earlier, I kind of kept my distance as we walked. Oh, but he tried to close that gap. At one point, I let my guard down. The bravura in me was strutting. “I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

It was then we found ourselves alone in a quite corner of a residential neighborhood. We sat down on a bench and he put his arm around me again. He murmured in my ear that he though I was a neat young woman. I smiled, not really sure how to respond to that. Steve went on to say all the right things while I stammered to answer:

“You know I find your intelligence interesting.”

“Well…that’s cool.”

“Are you cold? Would you like my jacket?”

“No thanks, I’m fine.”

“You’re very pretty.”

“Um, thanks?”

It was at that moment Steve decided to take the next step. I had swung my face around to face him. He lifted my chin to look into his eyes and I saw his mouth moving closer to mine. With his kiss looming, my brain and my conscience made a split second decision that I didn’t comprehend until I got home. Bringing up my hand to his chest right before the point of contact, I gently pushed back and stood up.

I looked at the face of a confused suitor and said, “Steve, thank you. But no.” And I walked back to my car.

If I had let Steve kiss me that night, I probably would have taken a lot of “firsts” off my list. Who knows? All I knew at that moment was that I didn’t want my first kiss to be with a man almost twice my age. This is the pattern that my life started to take. I’d be presented with the choice of being “wild” or “mild.” More often than not, I’d choose the safer path. But despite my choice, I’d hate myself for being such a pansy.

Let’s face facts: I’ve never drunk to the point of drunkenness. I’ve never been offered or taken drugs. I never snuck out even on a school trips though I had nothing holding me back. The only reason why I stay late out on a weekend is because I’m with my Speech and Debate activities.

In my eyes…I thought I was boring as the sky is blue.

Luckily I grew into my own self. Years have gone by since that near first kiss and I have come to understand that I am who I am. I’m the “Mild Child” and that’s okay. I may not have all the cool stories about waking up in someone else’s clothes after a night of partying, but I can probably recount the whole story for the friend it did happen to. I haven’t smoked a joint – but I’m not closed off to the idea. I’d venture to say that I have loosened as the years pass.

I was having a conversation with one of my friends one night and we were talking about the fact that I felt so behind everyone in terms of rowdy fun experiences. I whined a bit about being trapped into the expectation of others and maybe that’s why I am so straight laced about certain things. My friend then said something that totally blew my mind.

“It’s okay. Some people aren’t cut out for those things. It’s not like you’re trying a dish with onions.”

I mulled that over for a bit and he continued, “On the other hand, some of us don’t give a fuck.”

He was right. But only half right. It shouldn’t just be SOME of us. ALL of us shouldn’t burden ourselves with the idea that we’re missing out on life because we’re not rowdy. Really, humans weren’t built or programmed that way. You have free will. Use it the way your soul and heart tell you to. If you’re a party animal…party your heart out. If you’re a homebody, that’s cool too.

I guess what I’ve learned is that no matter how exciting or tepid your path is, don’t just EXIST. Whatever the hell you want to do, just do it with gusto.

Pass the onions too, will you? They’re really not that bad after the first bite.

Forget Joe Cool: Why You Should Snag Yourself a Geek

Ah, the Geek. In the past, this pariah has languished at the bottom rung of the social ladder. Marked by popular kids as undesirable oddities, they were the subject of abuse and ridicule. All the proof you need is the movie “Sixteen Candles.” Who can forget the extremely cute and adorable (yet undoubtly GEEKY) Anthony Michael Hall getting trapped under the glass coffee table in a very twisted version of the old “Stuff the Geek into a Locker” gag?

But why? What made the “Big Man on Campus” want to pick-on what was essentially, high school’s version of “The Everyman?” Why did the “Homecoming Queen” typically go after the “Captain of the Football Team” and not “The Captain of the Academic Decathlon Team?” Even I, considered a “Friend to All,” tried not to latch myself onto the social lepers. Looking back on my high school year book, I note that those we termed “Geeks,” weren’t that bad looking. Going deeper, I tried to recall the personalities and conversations I had with them. What I found was that I remembered laughing a lot and talking away entire lunch breaks with them.

At the end of my high school reminiscing, I made a startling observation: If I hadn’t been so picky in high school and went out with a Geek, I probably would have had my first date a lot sooner than age 18.

Look around you. Geeks are HOT. They are the new A-list. They own companies, they populate Reality TV, and they’re making the news in our “If they’re popular, they’re cool” society. Hell, even people who probably considered themselves part of the “cool crowd” in high school have self-proclaimed themselves as Geeks. Bottom line: Geeks are chic.

And because this blog stands on the philosophy of educating in any and every aspect possible, I, Lillian T. White, would like to jump on the grenade for the Geek brethren. Ladies, I am here to deliver a very important message to relationship seekers everywhere:

FIND YOURSELF A GEEK AND DON’T LET GO!

For those of you who stuck around after that proclamation, I thank you. I promise you, you can’t go wrong if you date a Geek. Of course, now there are questions popping up in your mind. No worries fellow Girl Friday, I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that (and if I ended it here, it’d be an incredibly shallow and short post).

So let’s start by asking the question “What exactly is a Geek?” Gone are the days of the standard stereotype of pocket protectors, high water pants, and nasally laughs. No ma’am. The new Geek is as hot as you want him to be. As our world becomes more and more reliant on technology, the male need to play with bigger, better, and faster toys becomes more apparent. So luckily for you, today’s Geek choices are numerous as the stars in the sky.

Now that looks are out of your pre-qualifications, we can now turn our attention to the pressing matter of why a Geek would make you happy. There are the basics of Geekdom. They’re bright, well read, and very into their tech. But really, there are some deeper issues here. For your convenience, The Modern Girl Friday Blog offers you this easy to cut and hide in your wallet list:

1. They’re Financially Stable: Now before anyone goes and accuses me of being materialistic, please allow me to explain. Geeks take their education and work seriously. They make sure that they have enough money to take care of things in their life. If they have a stable job, they’re not worrying about what to eat. If a Geek has a stable job, they’re worrying about how to feed YOU. Think about that the next time you make a pass at the pizza delivery boy. And don’t worry…if he has a dead end job now, it probably means that he’s going to school or something.
2. You will always know where he is: Between the video games, Dungeons & Dragons crawls, and other assorted “Geek activity,” you don’t need to worry about him going to the club and cheating on you. You know on any given night when he’s not with you…he’s with his friends. And that’s where he should be, right?
3. They have the best sense of humor: Because most of their lives revolve around reading, watching, playing, and creating, the best Geeks have developed a very sharp sense of humor. And it’s just not any kind of humor, girls. This is the humor that has been developed from hours of listening to NPR, days reading a stack of comic books, hours pouring over DVD extras. It’s smart humor. It’s not run of the mill. And if you stick around long enough, you’ll be laughing your ass off with him!
4. Attention to detail: Think about your last significant other. Now think about all the little stuff he didn’t do. Pissed off yet? Geeks will not let you down in this aspect. These are the same guys who sit down and piece together lines of code that run the world. Picking up their socks and underwear off the floor? No problemo. If he can tell you the exact make and model of Boba Fett’s weapon in “Star Wars,” remembering a silly anniversary date is a piece of cake! Details…it’s all in the detail.
5. He’ll adore you to death: It’s not a secret that Geeks don’t get a lot of love from the ladies these days. When he does find a girl, he knows he’s found something special. And because of this knowledge, he will lay whatever he has on the line for you. In his own sweet way, he’ll give you want he thinks you’ll need in this world. Who needs flowers when you can get a 1G jump drive? And believe me girls; you’ll get more use out of that than a dozen roses.

So there you have it. Five perfectly good reasons to date a Geek. I know what you’re thinking. “Lily, are you damn serious?” Oh, but I am. I speak from experience. I married a Geek and am happy for it. He’s a sweet guy and he means the world to me.

Trust me on this one girls. Grab yourself a Geek, you can thank me later.

To Vex a Verbalist

Anyone who really knows me knows that I love words. I absolutely adore them. I revel in the sound of pronouncing them. I luxuriate in their definitions. I relish structuring them into sentences and paragraphs. I wrap them around me like a warm security blanket. For me, one might say, a well tailored phrase or maxim is equivalent to a cigarette after sex.

From the moment I learned to read, I gathered vocabulary into my brain and stored it away like a chocoholic with Godiva. Even in my earliest attempts at writing, I figured out that I was a word wizard. My love for words and the sounds they made flowed naturally and easily to the page. If something had to be described as “nice,” I would immediately seek an appropriate replacement. No Plain Jane words for me. But I didn’t limit myself to writing. Oh no. I would use these new found words in conversation as much as I could. To my immigrant parents, this was both a blessing and a bane. How do you deal with a mouthy child you didn’t quite understand?

With the dawning of my freshman year in high school, I augmented my word love by joining speech and drama. It was the perfect solution for the five foot tall girl who loved to use six foot words. Imagine my glee when I realized not only was there an outlet for me to express myself, but that there were teenagers who were word nuts like me! So my vocabulary grew as I transitioned from my local high school to my local college.

As I now approach the third decade of my life, I know I haven’t changed one bit. I still listen to music for the lyrics as well as the beat. When I come across a quotation or dialogue that tickles my fancy, I write it down for future use. As I wrote my very first novel, I challenged myself to find better ways to say common phrases. I’m still not afraid to wield my large vocabulary. I married an English teacher. It’s become a part of who I am. I am complimented for my writing and speaking abilities and it is a major contributor to my success in life.

So why do I feel word lovers like me are under pressure to dumb down what they say?

“Lily, you must sit home at night and read the dictionary.”

“She probably says to herself, ‘I wonder how I can use that word tomorrow in my meeting.’”

“Knowing Lily, she bookmarks where she left off.”

This particular conversation took place not two feet behind me the other day at work because I used a “big word.” My crime? Using the word “garrote” (An implement used for strangulation).

Usually, I am unflappable when it comes to my word usage. I use a word because that’s the word I think best describes what I need to say. But it truly disturbed me that I was being accused of having nothing better to do than sit and home and leaf through an Oxford Dictionary. This is completely untrue! My source material includes all forms of media. Not wanting to cause a scene, I let the good natured jabs disappear into the workday.

I arrived to work the next day and stood in line at the coffee machine for a caffeine shot. As I was about to exit the break room, one of my fellow teammates who had chided me the day before stopped me.

“Hey, I’ve decided we’re going to play a new game,” I was told with a smile on his face. “Want to know the name of the game?”

“Sure,” I shrugged, “Why not?”

“It’s called ‘Stump the Lily.’” A chuckle from a few other teammates was emitted.

Feeling very wary of the situation, I took a deep breath and said, “And how do you play, ‘Stump the Lily?’”

“It’s easy. I give you a word and you have to define it.”

Rolling my eyes, every instinct in my body said to bolt. However, pride got the best of me. Stirring my coffee, I gave as casual a tone as I could and said, “Fine. Let’s play.”

“Cool. Today’s word is ‘tacit.’” As I rummaged my brain, my teammate even added, “You have until the end of day to tell me.”

Given that, I turned on my heel and walked back to my desk. Tacit. I knew what that meant. The difficulty was explaining it. Sipping my coffee I searched for context. Where had I heard it before? Tacit approval. Tacitly explained. I closed my eyes and I heard everyone crowding back in from the break room. Inhaling deeply, the question fell on my ears. “Well Lily, do you know what it means?”

I think it was the tone of the question. Up until that moment, I didn’t care if I got it right or wrong. It just meant that I was going to learn something new. But with that challenging tone, the answer came to me in an instant. I stood up and walked out of my cubicle and proclaimed:

“Tacit. That means implied.”

There were accusations of cheating. There were chuckles of amazement. But the one lone complaint that I knew too much was what I heard.

The next day, I barely had set my bag down at my desk when I was asked if I could define the word “magnanimity.”

Well, it sounds like magnanimous, I thought to myself. “Magnanimity has to do with charity or giving nature?” I sat down and flipped on my computer, glad to be done with the word for the day.

“Okay, how about kick-hotick.”

Umm…okay. “You mean Q-U-I-X-O-T-I-C?” I smirked, “kwix-sotick?”

“Whatever.”

“Well, that’s derived from the character of Don Quixote. So,” I took a stab at some synonyms, “I think it has to do with absurdity or something impossible.”

The look on my teammate’s face was that of astonishment. Apparently at dinner the previous night, he and his waitress had gotten into a discussion about her Ph.D. field, studying human behavior and characteristics. Apparently, she found my love for words interesting to her. So, she gave him the two previously mentioned words to try and stump me.

Holding two crumpled pieces of paper in his hands, my teammate remarked, “You are a freak. A Ph.D. candidate gave me those words.”

At this point I protested. “You guys need to get over the fact that I like to use my vocabulary. Quit making fun of me.”

“We’re not making fun of you,” was the group response. “We think it’s just odd.”

Oh, great. I’m an oddity. I sighed and returned to my desk saying, “We’re not playing ‘Stump the Lily’ anymore.”

And you would have thought it would have ended at that.

Splenetic: Marked by a bad temper, malevolence or spite (And I thought that was “bitchiness.”)

Truthiness: The quality of stating concepts one wishes or believes to be true, rather than the facts.

Evitable: Capable of being avoided (“I wish this stupid game was evitable.”)

Inevitably, my streak ran out. I got the above three words wrong the next two days. As I said before, I really could have cared less. I actually rather enjoyed learning what “splenetic” and “truthiness” meant (and I used them later on that day!). But the fact that with every error, some people in the office took some perverse pleasure in my failure, really just began to bug me.

In fact, it bothered me so much, that I did something completely uncharacteristic of me. I kept my mouth shut. I spent the rest of the day in my cubicle under the guise of being busy. After lunch, curious co-workers kept swinging by my desk asking if I was okay.

“I’m fine.”

A concerned frown crept into their faces. “Oh. You’ve been quiet all day.”

“I’m just busy.”

After about the fifth one of those, I decided to mull this over. How could my love of words, which has all always been a source of pride and joy, turn me into a temporary introvert? Why did this bother me so much? What was it about my verbiage that made people call me a freak? In this day and age where knowledge is at our fingertips, why do the intelligent get a bad rap?

By about 4 p.m. today, I decided that I really couldn’t worry about it. This wasn’t about the huge list of words in my head. If people had a problem with the way I spoke, then really, it’s their loss. I’m in this world to learn. It’s like they say, humans are empty vessels. I choose to fill mine with words. I guess my co-workers just don’t understand the exhilaration I feel being able to turn a word inside out. This is a shame.

Not only will they never know the thrill of being able to pronounce “eminence grise,” but they’ll miss out on the cool story behind its meaning.

They’re missing out on the fact that words like velvety, panting, and ragged in a sentence can launch their significant other into red alert.

They’ll never see the astonished and confused look on an adversary’s face when you tell them to “Kiss my ass,” by instead saying, “Buss my derriere!”

They’ll never slap a smile on their face in a tense situation and let the word “pithy” melt in their mouth like cotton candy.

Their lives will never be “fraught with the richness of pleasure,” it will just merely be “alright.”

But that’s okay. That means there are more words just for me.

The Modern Girl Friday Credo

Welcome to my blog. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lillian T. White. But you can call me Lily. Yeah, that’s right. Lily White. No, it’s not my real name (not even close) and no I’m not really “lily white” either. But then again, you don’t expect that from today’s Girl Friday, do you?

The important stuff about me: I’m originally from the west coast, I moved to the southwest when I fell in love with my wonderful husband. I’ve had a love affair with writing since I was a kid, but I hadn’t truly stretched my legs out about it until just recently. After finishing up the first draft of my very first novel, I realized that I needed another project – something not so time consuming – to keep my writing growing. I guess you could say that my age also has something to do with it. I’m dawning on the third decade of my life and discovery that life has a ton to offer me. And because I believe in the quotation from the movie Mame that “Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death,” I needed to create an outlet.

So…here it is. The Modern Girl Friday.

You’re probably wondering about the title (for those of you who dislike it – get your own damn blog). According to www.merriam-webster.com, a girl Friday is a female assistant entrusted with a wide variety of tasks. As fine as that definition is, girl Friday has come to symbolize more than that. At least, that’s what me and my friends believe.

The Modern Girl Friday Blog seeks to redefine who this woman can be. We’re busting her out of the office and taking her on the road trip of her life. I hope with each post that I (and my fellow Girl Friday contributors) put up, makes you laugh and provoke thought.

Today’s Girl Friday is fearless and invincible. She’s witty and sharp. She wants it all and will find out how to get it. She lives her life out of a rule book she wrote. Girl Friday is…well…she’s something special.

I could go on and on about what a modern Girl Friday is…but that would probably kill any chance of gaining an audience around here. So instead, I’ll give you the short version. Allow me to introduce to you a piece of text I like to call “The Modern Girl Friday Credo” (thanks to my girl, and future contributor, Elusive Orchid for helping out). To all you Modern Girl Friday’s out there, pay attention. Here’s your rule book:

As a Modern Girl Friday, I vow to:

Stand on my own.
Never attach myself to a clingy significant other.
Play for laughs, not for keeps.
Ditch whiny friends.
Demand my friend’s happiness.
Lobby for chocolate and caramel to be added to the food pyramid.
Make thorough background checks on anyone we might date.
Understand that my spouse has language all their own.
Be barely tolerant of other people’s right to ignorance.
Read Calvin and Hobbes at least once a day.
Find that perfect shade of red lipstick.
Follow up on the box score from last night.
Use my brains AND my looks for good.
Not player hate on my fellow woman (unless she deserves it).
Torment the opposite sex at least once a day.
Own up to my mistakes.
Give at least one sexy smile a day to a stranger.
Not mix my alcohols.
Own at least one pair of three inch heels.
Pamper myself…a lot.
Exercise when I feel like it.
Roll down the windows and blast the radio while driving.
Know the difference between “assertive” and “bitchy.”
Know when to be bitchy and when to be assertive.
Learn how to change my oil.
Flirt at least twice a day…if not more.
Get more guy friends.
Dance around in my underwear to my favorite song.
Take one “Girls Only” vacation a year.
Not punish my significant for other for forgetting a silly anniversary.
Never use sex as a weapon…only as toy.
Keep up with the guys, if not surpass them.
Paint my bedroom red.
Hold someone’s gaze from across the room.
Use a cheesy pick up line just to break the ice.
Never use PMS as an excuse.
Not ask the question “Does this make me look fat?” (I know the answer)
Convince the AMA that “Retail Therapy” is legit.
Buy a book for its cover.
Wear a color I’ve never worn before.
Throw out ratty underwear and hit my favorite lingerie store for replacements.
Never fear the scale.
Appreciate a good open ice hip check.
Always look put together (even when I’m not).
“Go there.”
Give an honest answer.
Learn to configure my computer.
Give out compliments freely.
Never, EVER be embarrassed.
Dance on a table…SOBER.
Allow myself that extra piece of (insert dessert here).
Be as intelligent as I know I am.
Make at least one of my guy friends blush each day.
Love every inch of who I am.

Hold on to your seat and your hat, Friday. This will get wild.