magnanimous

\mag-NAN-uh-mus\

adjective

1 : showing or suggesting a lofty and courageous spirit

2 : showing or suggesting nobility of feeling and generosity of mind

i would say that the opposite of MAGNANIMOUS would be vindictive, a word that could have described my personality for at least two thirds of my life. i grew up with the golden rule, and henceforth felt like i should also be an enforcer of that ideal. from about ten to twenty-five, i was not to be crossed.

this became increasingly difficult while working in retail, a sphere in which i have been employed for almost fifteen years. in this world, the golden rule does not apply. retail's golden rule is, "the customer is always right," which i have personally rewritten, for my own sanity, to be stated as, "the customer is usually wrong, you just have to let them think they are right."

customers have talked some nasty shit to me in the last fifteen years. i have been condescended to, sneered at, called a racist, offered money for sex, and been told an innumerable amount of times that i "have no idea what i'm talking about." these instances used to infuriate me. i would come home from work frustrated and angrily mumbling to myself, emotions which i couldn't seem to shake for days at a time. i felt totally helpless, unable to defend myself in a world where everything is upside down, where right is wrong, and wrong is somehow rewarded.

now that i'm older, something miraculously has changed. i just don't care anymore. in fact, i couldn't care less. i'm actually pleased when confronted with nasty customers, impressed by my ability to keep my cool. i feel sorry for their dissatisfaction, and yet grateful that it is their day that is ruined and not mine. their nastiness rolls off my back as i smile and MAGNANIMOUSLY say, "you are so right. we really shouldn't have run out of croissants." it's liberating.

chapel

\CHAP-ul\

noun

1 : a private or subordinate place of worship

2 : an assembly at an educational institution usually including devotional exercises

3 : a place of worship used by a Christian group other than an established church

as mentioned in the previous blog, i did not grow up with religion. my minimal experiences of actually being inside church-like religious facilities occurred as follows*:

- attending church with a friend's family after having incidentally slept over on a saturday night. this totaled maybe 5-7 times.

- my brother's piano recitals, which i usually spent in the children's playroom watching my infant sister and listening to the piano pieces over the scratchy intercom system

- three of the seven weddings i have attended

- one funeral

- a couple times going inside St. Patrick's Cathedral in NYC

- one confirmation (i think)

- my sister's baptism (her father insisted; i was too young to remember, but i've seen the evidence in photographs)

i always felt uncomfortable in these places, like a fraud. i felt like everyone could tell that i wasn't religious, and they were all about to run me the hell out of there. on one occasion, attending a sunday morning service with a friend's family, i stayed behind in the pew while they all went up to receive their...communion? wafer? anyway, i swung my legs around to let people pass by me, and a wretched old woman yelled at me for "daring to put my feet on the seat in god's house." this was a common issue for me, as there were very few etiquette restrictions in my own home. i was often doing things in other people's houses that were considered totally unacceptable: resting elbows on the table, walking around with shoes on, talking with my mouthful, not showering with the correct towel on the floor outside the tub, eating with the wrong fork, coming inside dripping wet from the swimming pool, accidentally cussing, etc. the fact that i was doing something wrong in a church did not surprise me. but i did feel guilty and somewhat persecuted. i was just trying to let people comfortably pass by on the way to their god-snack. that was the last time i went to a sunday morning service.

because of my general lack of worship experience, i don't really associate anything particular with the word CHAPEL. although, it does immediately make me think of small weddings. the first one that came to mind was julie and mike's. i did some research trying to remember where exactly they got married—i think it was at a small place called Oaks Pioneer Church. julie and mike aren't religious, and neither was this establishment. it was small and totally tasteful—a steeple, some pews, and some stained glass windows. there were a total of five people in attendance including the couple and the justice of the peace. i was the wedding photographer. the ceremony took a total of probably twenty minutes. then we went back to their house and ate some cake and i think the boys played video games.

this was, by a landslide, the smallest and simplest wedding i have ever been to. frankly, it was a relief. and nobody yelled at me for cussing or sitting the wrong way. and i got to fuck around with the church's cool old organ.

*i'm not including all of the jewish events i had to attend with josh. temples just look like ornate conference rooms. much more practical and inviting.

myrmidon

\'MER-muh-dahn\

noun

: a loyal follower; especially : a subordinate who executes orders unquestioningly or unscrupulously

it is difficult for me to imagine anything that i have followed without question. i was a child who was hardly ever insubordinate but always reluctant, always believing that something wasn't quite right. i did what i was told, but in my head i had one foot out the door. i grew up without religion, without strict rules, without the generational traditions of family. all i was ever told to believe in was myself, and that comes with a myriad of questions and doubts.

this all ended when i was fifteen and discovered the smashing pumpkins. it was the perfect union between a lost and confused adolescent and a beautiful, pure piece of music. i needed something to cling to, something to have faith in, something to be excited about. and there was billy corgan and his pumpkins, a group of overgrown fifteen-year-olds who played great music and said things like, "I torch my soul to show the world that I am pure deep inside my heart." it was good, and i was sold.

i was a MYRMIDON for the pumpkins for a solid three years, being as loyal a follower as one could. i destroyed any skepticism about their greatness with a more absolute defense than i had ever put behind anything. i was a believer, for the first time ever, without question.

like many believers, i thought my loyalty would last forever. and like many, it faded. the band broke apart, the music lacked, my interest waned. i lost faith. like the loss of many great feelings, it was gradual, fading into a distant memory.

maybe i'm not cut out to be a believer. believers settle with answers. i will always just want more questions.

"no more promise, no more sorrow. no longer will i follow. can anybody hear me? i just want to be me. and when i can, i will." -b.c. 1993

felicitous

\fih-LISS-uh-tus\

adjective

1 : very well suited or expressed : apt

2 : pleasant, delightful

i'm making a conscious decision to not talk about the WB television show Felicity. i didn't even really watch it because i didn't think it was edgy enough and i was extremely jealous about her living in new york and attending NYU. at 19, this was my dream. i stuck with Buffy.

i could say that achieving a FELICITOUS lifestyle underlies much of my behavior. i love when things are comfortable. and i love when things are "me."

"oh, that shirt is so you."

being true to the idea of myself is a daily struggle. i spend a lot of time thinking about how that idea was built. i suppose some of it was inherent, most of it circumstantial, and part of it expectational. trying to decipher the idea of my self is a fruitless battle. in the end, it doesn't matter where it came from, it just matters that i am driven to be true to that set of expectations and not another.

let's take jeans, something which i (and i'm not alone) am extremely particular about. over the course of my life, my idea of the FELICITOUS pair of jeans has changed with my age, the trends, the zeitgeist, etc. what has not changed is my particularity about choosing the exact right pair. right now, the perfect pair of jeans is J. Crew Hipslung Bootcut 27R in a dark wash. i have been more than lucky finding these used, as i would never consent to paying $90 for a pair.

what makes these jeans so FELICITOUS? they reflect everything i want in a pair of jeans. aside from the fact that they are good quality and will last, almost every aspect of a pair of jeans can reflect something about my personality. case in point:

bootcut leg style: boot cut has always been flattering. it's general. it's not tied to a specific era like flare legs which were once hippie and now scream late 90's hand-me-down. it's also not trendy like tapered leg which were unflattering in the 80's and now all the cool kids are pretending that they are flattering and will eventually return to bootcut when they realize they are wrong.

waist height: these pants sit at the perfect place on my hips. if they were too high i'd be a mom, and if they were too low i'd be an impractical slut who wanted everyone to see where my pubic hair began and my ass-crack ended.

fit/size: these pants fit, and that's all there is to it. my mother tells me stories about lying down on her bed to pull up her pants zipper with a pair of pliers. you will never walk in on my doing this. i enjoy breathing comfortably.

brand identification: i don't care about brand. if these were a no-name pair of jeans that fit, felt, looked, and lasted the same way, i would buy them. like i said, i have never purchased these from a J. Crew establishment, only on consignment for $15-$18 in places like Buffalo Exchange. i even once found a pair at Good Will. what is great about these jeans is that the brand is not visible anywhere on the surface of the pants. brand-showcasing is unacceptable. i will not wear clothes that dress me up like a walking billboard. just last week i was trying on jeans, and i found a seemingly FELICITOUS pair. good fit, good color, good leg style. then i looked at my ass—on one pocket an embroidered "M", on the other a "K." shame on you, Michael Kors. i couldn't do it.

i don't actually think about all of these things when i am looking for a pair of jeans. i just know. i can just look in the mirror and say,

"eh, these are not me."

it's a simple act, and it reflects a lifestyle built on a quest for happiness, comfort and truth.

gloze

\GLOHZ\

verb

1 : to mask the true nature of : give a deceptively attractive appearance to — often used with "over"

2 : to deal with (a subject or problem) too lightly or not at all — often used with "over"

i guess i've only ever heard this word in it's derivative form—gloss. sometimes mirriam-webster throws in words that are hardly ever used anymore because they want to you know where common words came from or to prove just how freakin' smart they are. well, they've succeeded.

in this context, it's not gloss as in the sticky medium i use to protect collages, but the glossing over of one's flaws, deceptions, and/or evil intent. i suppose this is something i do every day, in varying degrees. on a superficial level i wear deodorant to mask my true body odor. this is something i've recently put some thought into, specifically since moving to a city like portland where most people i know do not wear deodorant. they say things like:

"i don't care what people think" (another glossing over),

"i'm not going to waste my money on that shit" (although most of them wear make-up) or

"i like my natural smell" (i will give them this; most people do in fact enjoy their own smell).

i still wear deodorant—partly out of habit, partly out of GLOZING and mostly out of insecurity because when i was in eighth grade, before i thought i needed deodorant, some mean boys in my music class called me "C.O.B.O." for a few days. admittedly, i did not shower much in eighth grade. i certainly looked greasy and gross; i'm not sure i actually smelled. i think they were just being mean. to my benefit, that nickname did not stick. i think that was pure luck. but alas, consider my armpits glozed.

i'm going to go ahead and guess that these same boys are now fat, impotent, or perpetually glozing over the fact that eighth grade was the highlight of their life.

embargo

\im-BAHR-goh\

noun

1 : an order of a government prohibiting the departure of commercial ships from its ports

2 : a legal prohibition on commerce

3 : stoppage, impediment; especially : prohibition

admittedly, i buy a lot of foreign products. in theory i support the "buy american" philosophy. but since the new year is about honesty, above all, i want a good deal. let's use a place like American Apparel as an example. American Apparel has some great products (albeit ridiculously embarrassing advertising). i have purchased a few basic tee shirts from this establishment and they fit incredibly well and have lasted strenuous tests of wash and wear. i look good in them, i feel good about buying american, and i feel kinda cool having shopped in American Apparel. American Apparel has made buying american clothes cool.

but the shirts were $16 a piece. and these were the cheapest ones there. this is unacceptable. it's a tee shirt. now i understand there is a price on cool. and it's usually fairly grand. but it's a plain white tee shirt. and my boobs look just as good in one made in korea.

i have a grey thermal shirt i wear under almost everything. i bought it three years ago from Forever 21. i paid $5.80 (all their prices oddly end like this) for it. it was definitely made in southeast asia and not by some hipster in los angeles, but it's great. it's comfortable and doesn't have any holes. and i feel like i got my money's worth long ago. i don't feel bad about buying it. in fact, i feel worse for wasting $16 on an american-made tee shirt that i could have gotten for $3.80.

American Apparel, i really want to support american-made products, but i need a little incentive. try having a SALE. ever. and you may encourage some more people to buy american. because right now buying american just feels like getting talked into letting an entire college frat take turns screwing me on video tape for the sake of charity.

"it's for a good cause, i swear."

if anything, i request an EMBARGO on American Apparel's hideous advertising.

beatific

\bee-uh-TIFF-ik\

adjective

1 : of, possessing, or imparting a state of utmost bliss
2 : having a blissful appearance

this word is entirely appropriate for today, as the new year has made me feel overtly blissful. i am positive about a new decade and what awaits.

i have seen this word in speech, but i have never used it. i'm surprised at its pronunciation—i've always read it as bee-TIFF-ik. but there's an "uh."

uh.

the word always just made me think of the beat generation. my first pop culture association with that generation was watching pia zadora iron her hair in john waters' hairspray. that scene is pretty amazing. after that i fantasized a lot about ironing my hair, but never followed through. i did learn the mashed potato, though. that movie was really a huge influence on my taste in music and dancing.

thanks, john waters, for imprinting good taste on my nine-year-old self!