“Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.” -Albert Camus

Friday, September 19, 2014

Filtered: How social media allows us to relive our Junior High years over and over...

It took seven years before I finally gave in and made myself a Facebook profile. Initially I was nervous but soon became giddy and totally enthralled. I started to recognize my Facebook emotions as being familiar... It was an eery sort of deja vu… And then it hit me…Social Media was Junior High School. Only this time around Junior High was a controlled environment.

1. You spend as much time prepping for your profile picture as you would your yearbook photo, only this time you control the outcome.

2. Posting is like one continuous game of note passing, where everyone on the row can look as the back and forth comments are in plain view.

3. You immediately search for your school’s original queen bees and look to see if time has eroded the peroxide and white shimmer shadow.

4. You friend people who never spoke to you in junior high, yet at 25 feel a sense of validation when they accept your request.

5. You constantly count how many friends, likes. comments, etc, you have and compare that amount with your other friends. You’ll add just about anybody to add to the running total.

6. You stalk every boy you have ever liked since you were five (the digital "drive by" so to speak)

7. You think more about what you say, how you look, who you talk to and who talks to you than you have since you were twelve.

8. You try and control how you appear to others, but this time around you can edit, photoshop, delete and manipulate your image in any way you like.

9. You waste as much time on social media as you did when you first discovered talking to your girlfriends on the telephone in junior high,

10. You hesitate to share your age and relationship status.

Monday, September 1, 2014

Love means nothing in Tennis

Growing up my mother's entire life was tennis. As a child she earnestly desired to be a baseball player but at the time very few sports were deemed "acceptable"for a young girl to play. In an attempt to appease my mother, my grandfather (bought her a Mickey Mantle glove) and introduced her to tennis. The combination of my mother's natural athleticism and my grandparents' unwavering, impossible expectation for perfection led her to be a phenomenal player. She held the number 1 ranking in Utah and also the Intermountain West. Additionally, she was ranked 13th in the nation, 13 has always been her favorite number…
Though my mother has accomplished many things in her life (most commendable, surviving my childhood) to this day when people find out I am her daughter, the first thing mentioned is her tennis career. I have yet to meet a person in the entire state, who knows my mother, that at one time or another has not watched her play tennis, been coached by her, played with her or taken lessons from her. The smell most evocative of my childhood memories is a freshly opened canister of tennis balls!

My grandparents' home has remained a Grey Gardens inspired time capsule in many respects, but among the most disturbing of its remnants is the trophy case that houses all my mom's triumphs. Similar to my mother, every one of my cousins excel in athletics. In order to be truly accepted in my extended family, you have no option but to excel! For many years the challenge among my extended family was to see who could acquire more trophies than were housed in the case.  It started early. You were thrown down the mountain in a pair of skis at 2, and begun your competitive swimming career at 5. Later you were expected to choose another athletic event or two to be the very best at. I endured a few toddler runs down the mountain (I haven't really skied since) and begrudgingly agreed to join the swim team in exchange for getting my ears pierced. I was a decent high school basketball player and a good tennis player but certainly not of the caliber my cousins were/are in their respective events. Needless to say I was the one apple that has not fallen from the rigorous shaking of the perfect extended family tree.
Though I possess neither the athletic scholarships or lithe figures of my other family members, I do love tennis! Lucky for me, my mother was careful not to put the same pressure on her children as was placed on her. This allowed me to cultivate my own interest and love of the sport. It allowed me to throughly enjoy playing and helped me to walk away when I felt it became too competitive or toxic.
My point is not to give you my family's scorecard, neither is it to tell you I am banned from bringing the potatoes to any of our extended family gatherings…My point is there is much to be learned from the game of tennis… In fact, you can learn a lot from the sport beyond gender roles, family dysfunction, and blinding perfectionism..
It probably doesn't come as a surprise that we watch a lot of tennis in my family. Wimbledon is a sacred occasion. Serena Williams is heralded as the greatest athlete of all time in my home. She is the best player the game has ever seen and will never be surpassed. You would be hard pressed to find anyone like her.
I have grown to be so invested in Serena as a player, I weep at her every success and am perpetually anxious in any match appearing to be remotely close… I applaud and marvel at her every fashion choice and don't believe for a second she has ever faked an injury or stomach cramp!
Over the years I have always been amazed at my mother's ability to determine without fail whether Serena will win or lose the second she steps on the court. My mom has turned Serena's tennis career into several metaphors about life and love. There is a Serena application for everything! The best relationship advice I have ever been given came by way of tennis analogy :

You always will lose to a slicer, so why keep playing with them?

Tennis can be played two ways, with perfect, strong, strokes or spin and slicing. While slicing may have an occasional purpose at the net it is certainly not a substitute for really hitting the ball. Even Serena, the greatest tennis player of all time, is sure to lose to a slicer. You have to play with someone who can return the ball. You are always more likely to win if you are paired with someone who serves with the same power and precision. You are more likely to succeed if you step onto the court with a worthy opponent. You don't want to spend your life losing to someone who has you scrambling at the net and is constantly taking cheap shots. Ultimately, it sucks to lose to someone who isn't playing the same game and bringing their full strokes.
You have to remember, Love means nothing in Tennis…