Get Your Gaggle On

I came across this book ("The Gaggle" by Jessica Massa) quite randomly and unexpectedly after reading an article about it on CNN last week. I'm not normally one to be drawn to typical dating/relationship advice self-help-y books....which is exactly why I loved this book so much. While most dating/how-to-find-love books (particularly those geared towards heterosexual women) harp on all the stereotypical "do's" and "don'ts" in order to snag 'the one,' "The Gaggle" turns the focus to one of self-discovery. Incredibly refreshing! It caters to those of us navigating through the confusing post-modern dating world who are looking for something different. After reading this book, I have more insight, optimism, and an overall more relaxed outlook on dating/relationships in the 21st century. I had an epiphany of sorts. Part of my problem had been my mindset. I was going about it all wrong....dating and/or pursuing a long-term relationship in very black and white terms. "The Gaggle" encourages women to explore those shades of grey with an open mind, awareness, and sense of adventure(aka, those various men in your life whom serve a very functional and/or meaningful role without you even realizing it...until you read what's in this book!). I have a great 'gaggle' of fun, intelligent, attractive, and caring men in my life. How can I not feel excited and grateful to have SEVERAL guys in my life that fulfill me in one or more ways?

Anti-NYR

I've always loathed the stereotypical New Year's Resolutions, what I consider a last ditch (or first ditch?) effort for most individuals to convince themselves that they are more goal-driven and determined than they actually are the other 3/4 of the year. You know the people I'm talking about.....the ones who vow to join a gym and boast about how they're going to lose weight and/or buff up in the next 6-12 months.

January at the gym is hell because of those jerks, taking up extra space in what used to be your parking spot and your workout space inside the gym. January is the month where everyone appears to be motivated, inspired, and striving for their utmost desires. Sliding into February, it is the rest of us that remain. Thankfully. I can once again park in a convenient spot and not have to push my way through the New Year's Resolution dropouts. Although I mock NYRD, I am thrilled they are so predictable because it gives me more motivation and incentive to relentlessly pursue my anti-NYR goals with reckless abandon. All. Year. Long.

Sure, some goals might be easier and/or more fun (ie, feel less like "goals" and more like wants/mere desires), but it is what keeps me going the whole year. It's like a competition, me against myself....maybe with a few friends along the way. Here's a taste of what I would like to accomplish, kick ass at, enjoy, savor, get overly excited about, be, do, see, hear, taste, touch, and any other insanely ridiculous description for what I'd like to experience this year. In no particular order...


1. Write here more regularly.
2. Go on photography adventures, particularly exploring sights with other fun and adventure seeking photographers.
3. Run my very first 5K in February!
4. Read workbook on starting my own private practice and try some of the suggestions offered in the book.
5. Continue sculpting into a leaner, fit body (including dropping at least two clothing sizes by the end of 2011).
6. Visit friends in Chicago for a week in March.
7. Meet/visit Josh in Florida in May.
8. Refrain from using a credit card at all this year and decrease credit card debt/bill.
9. Renew passport and go to Canada with friends.
10. Warrior Dash in July!
11. Trip to Mt. St. Helens
12. Trip to the Portland coast
13. Social time with people (ie, spend less time alone/doing things by myself)
14. Be a confident, fun "player" if I must continue online dating. haha
15. Go camping and/or hiking at Olympic National (Hoh) Rainforest.

*ADVENTURE*

(Photo at left taken by me: Alki Beach in Seattle, June 2010)

Do you ever wish you could go back to a time in your life when things felt more exciting, full of adventure, spontaneity, and just a hint of crazy goodness? Does a certain place bring this out in us or is it a sign of youth vs. getting older?

What if we are capable of being adventurous, and just choose to or not to be?

I have been pondering this quite a bit lately. Most recently, I was thinking that my life has been feeling pretty boring since I moved to Seattle and chalked it up to mainly not having formed solid friendships in the area thus far....as well as being at a different place in my life than most of my friends (ie, most are married and having/had kids). But now I'm starting to feel it goes beyond that.

I realized last night (while I was having an experience new to me) that perhaps it has more to do with being presented with and/or seizing opportunities that have the capacity to allow one's adventurous side to reveal itself. Maybe it's also about finding other people who we can push our comfort zones with to try new things with an adventurous spirit.

I could be wrong, but it has been my observation that this is a rare quality I have come across (or rather, not come across) in people I know, have relationships with,etc. Or if I do know people who have this capability, they're not being transparent about it. I told my friend June last night she's the only adventurous person I have met (so far) since I moved to Seattle. While I can certainly cultivate my own adventurous side by myself, there's something to be said about the dynamic being stronger when you're with another person/group to really draw this out...or so I feel.

Why aren't more people pursuing the intriguing thrill of the unknown, that juicy part of life that connects us to something deeper and can reveal to ourselves the magnitude of our confidence, our sensual/erotic side, our inner growth? Are people that afraid to learn about the mysteries of life, the "taboos," themselves? If this is the case, how incredibly sad. I am grateful I am not this way, if this really is the case.

When I was younger, I used to yearn for a sense of belonging. I never fit in with popular social circles in school...or even in my own family (I felt like the displaced/invisible family member starting at a very young age). There were a myriad of aspects in which I always felt different.

I was never thin or athletic. I was never a fashionista or a girly girl (though can't say I ever wanted to be anyway, hahaha). I was the new girl at school more often than I'd have liked, moving frequently during my formative years. I was a bookworm. I listened and observed. I loved learning. I was open-minded. I yearned to really know people beyond the surface level. I couldn't understand why people engaged in small talk (boring!!!!) rather than more worthwhile topics of conversation. I more often than not felt frustrated, depressed, and angry that I couldn't find people that shared some of these qualities that made me so unique/"cursed."

It is only with the eyes of a 32 year old that I can smile with gratitude for these early experiences. For what was once a curse is now an absolute blessing. I don't want to belong anymore. Paradoxically, I find myself yearning for and seeking out experiences that will bring out that very feeling in me...but in a liberating and confident way.

The way I see it, how much can we learn about the world and ourselves if we surround ourselves with the status quo, with dogma? How can we know our inner world if our outer environment is routine and stagnant?

If we are curious about something we know nothing about and have some anxiety about doing/learning about it simply because it is completely foreign to us (or maybe there is a fear of what other people will think of us), this is likely a sign to explore the unknown. Learn about yourself. You may be pleasantly surprised and refreshed with what you discover. I think society and the media drill such fear into us, playing out stereotypes and negativity. Why does something thrilling, exciting, bold, juicy, and adventurous have to be perceived as "bad", "dark," "crazy," "dangerous," or just generally "threatening?" God forbid, we should encourage people to think for themselves and really know those secret/deeper aspects of themselves....

Without such new and unknown experiences, I wouldn't know how confident and comfortable I have become in my skin. I wouldn't know just how little I genuinely care what other people think of me when it comes to me not compromising who I am at the expense of having relationships with others. I wouldn't know what freedom and independence feels like. I wouldn't know how to transcend my fears, my preconceived judgments, my ignorance. I wouldn't truly know how capable I am of 'holding my own' in divergent situations and relationships. I wouldn't discover fun and intriguing things I now want to try that I didn't even realize I wanted to try in the past!

Without them, I wouldn't feel truly alive.

Glock, stock, and barrel

(Picture on left: Marked bullet holes are the ones I fired...some of the other holes could have been my dad or me).

While visiting my family in Florida last week, I had the privilege of experiencing something I have never experienced before....shooting a gun. I had no idea what to expect, thus I kept my expectations to a bare minimum. This was the best possible mindset for me to have, especially since I know myself well enough to know that if I thought about it too much, I might freak myself out to a point where I would change my mind about following through with the bold (for me) undertaking. The United States seems to have such a cavalier attitude towards guns, that to most people shooting a gun may not sound like that big of a deal. Not for me though.

Although it has always been "normal" for me to see my Dad carrying a gun when we'd be out and about (he's a cop), I have had a very standoffish and slightly fearful attitude towards guns. I didn't like them and never even considered using one! I'm not sure what changed my mind, perhaps my unquenchable and curious thirst for new experiences. I like pushing past my comfort zones and challenging my perceptions, especially when it comes to proving myself wrong. Yes, I am that rare human specimen who would rather be proven wrong than right. Call me crazy, but I get satisfaction from being reminded that the human imagination can conjure up some real doozies that most times aren't reflective of reality. For instance, we humans have a way of thinking the worst possible scenario or making inaccurate assumptions. Prior to my experience of having shot a gun, my mind created images of me accidentally shooting myself or freaking out that I could unintentionally hurt someone else, drop the gun, get hit by others in the range....and this was me fantasizing at the bare minimum! Imagine what I could have conjured up in my mind if I had REALLY thought about it. With that said, my motto (as much as possible in life) is "Feel the fear and do it anyway"(also the title of a psych/self-help book, fyi)....so I did it. :)

First came the gun instruction with Dad. We sat on his couch in the living room and he showed me his .40 Glock. He showed me how to load the bullets, told me a little bit about the mechanics, and told me I needed to say "I got it" when he handed the gun over to me (safety precaution). He also showed me the proper way to hold the gun when in shooting mode, as well as posture. Knees should be slightly bent and according to Dad, "It should be a surprise" to hear the gun go off if you pull back on the trigger with the padded tip of the index finger ever so slowly.

Seeing as it was the day after July 4th, the Shoot Straight gun range was pretty dead inside (yeah, bad pun, huh? haha). This was fine by me considering having more people around might have heightened my anxiety. We walked into the place and there were guns everywhere. Teeny tiny size guns, medium sized handguns, and shotguns. There were also lots of dead animal heads on the wall. Again, such a thing would have bothered me in the past, but I was open-minded to experiencing something out of my usual realm of comfort and understanding.

Dad and I approached the counter to "check-in," meaning we had to sign our names on a sheet with the time. I laughed when I saw the three options of gun target pages hanging behind the counter: the standard human body silhouette outline, one that had smiley/sad faces, and this is what got a chuckle out of me....a laughing zombie. Not your average run of the mill looking zombie, but a laughing zombie. Those gun folks sure do have a sense of humor! Even though I was tempted to get the zombie target paper, I was intent on taking this new experience seriously...mainly because I really wanted to know how skilled I would be at something that I barely just learned from Dad's brief gun instruction "lesson." I went with the body outline.

Before heading back to the area where the shooting happens, I was told that I needed "eyes and ears." I put on the plastic glasses and ear muffs. Dad and I walked through the double doors of the target practice area. There must have been about 8-10 "stations" where people could go to stand and shoot, though only half were occupied. Bullet casings filled the floors around us, the temperature in the room oppressively hot. Dad took out the contents of his gun bag: Glock, magazines (for those not in the know, that is what you load the bullets into and then load into the gun), and bullets. I was starting to get really nervous. This was really about to happen, no backing out now. I had to rise to the challenge, no matter how scared I was starting to feel. Dad told me I could change my mind and stop at any time if I wanted to, but I didn't want to give in to my fear of the unknown.

I approached the mini gun 'counter' and focused my eyes on the target 21 feet ahead of me. I concentrated on doing everything exactly the way Dad told me to do to the best of my ability. As you can see, I did pretty well. Although my arms were a bit shaky at times from nervousness, 60 rounds later I left with a feeling of accomplishment. Once again, I have surprised myself at being able to do something I had not previously fathomed I was capable of doing. My dad repeatedly told me I did well for it being my first time with a gun. I thought maybe he was exaggerating or just saying so to be nice, until he told me that some fellow cops he knows are poor shooters/too cocky to learn how to shoot a gun well.

I can't say shooting a gun was "fun" per se, nor can I say with certainty whether I will shoot a gun ever again. What I do know is that it definitely wasn't what I expected, in the best possible "prove me wrong"kind of way.