chivalry’s slow suffocation

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Chivalry is not dead. But it is not well, either.

A few years ago I was at a party with some friends. A few of us girls were talking in a little circle when a few guys walked up. One of the guys had an unopened can of root beer in his hand. One of my friends asked him where he had found it. Rather than tell her, he just held his out and said, “Here, have this one. I’ll go grab another.” She refused and repeated her question. They went back and forth, back and forth, and finally I piped up and said, “Seriously, let the poor guy be a gentleman. Take the soda already.” And this story, I believe, is an example how we women are slowly killing Chivalry.

When I was in high school, I had the most amazing crush on one of my friend’s older brothers. I didn’t share it with anyone, but I’m sure it was quite obvious. I was never (and still am not) one for sharing crushes. In any case, I know it was obvious to him. He was a “college boy” and I was a senior. I just thought he walked on water. And while he was not interested in me, he never failed to be a gentleman. Perhaps it was only because he was living at home, but my guess would be that it was more about how he was raised, that he was always like that.

One night we were hanging out (I think I must’ve been at his house waiting for his brother to get home…his brother with whom I was legitimately friends) and we decided to go get a movie at Blockbuster while we were waiting. This experience was all about the “door opening”. He made sure to open every door. I remember thinking, “This is the type of guy I want to end up with. The type who, regardless of whether or not he’s interested in her, will open doors for any and every girl/woman.

We often have dinner at my grandma’s house. She lives just down the road and, as many of our family friends have migrated to Utah, these dinner parties tend to be quite large and they are always buffet style. The ladies always go first. It’s just the way it is. There’s no question. If a man got in line before any individual woman, that would be the end of it. He would forever be known as “the man who had no manners”.

Well, things are not the same anymore. While Chivalry is alive and well chez my grandmother, I am amazed at how much things have changed just in the last 10 years. I have been guilty of it. I have beat men to doors so that I could open them myself. I have not taken a seat on a crowded bus when it was vacated just for me. I have insisted on sitting in the back seat, even when the front was offered. And on and on. Why do we do this? Why don’t we let men be men and appreciate them for it? Why must we be so independent all the time?

I feel bad for the guys out there. How can they possibly know how to act with all of the mixed signals we send them? This Sunday, after church, we had a “Linger Longer” (for those of you who have no idea what this term means, it’s a meal after church, at church…and at my church, as we are all single, it’s an opportunity to see and be seen). After the blessing on the meal was offered, one of the girls in my ward got up and reminded the guys (in a very polite and lighthearted way) that the ladies should go first. The announcement was as much for the ladies as it was for the men. And even after this, half of us stood around, not wanting to be first, waiting for the guys to get in line.

Why do we have to remind guys to let ladies go first? Why do we have to remind ladies to go first? Why do we have to tell men that it bugs us when, after only a few months of dating, they have stopped opening our doors or carrying our luggage? Why, when we stop at the gas station, are we pumping our own gas…even if we are paying for it?

Honestly, I think a good part of it (like 90%) is our own fault. Perhaps not individually, but collectively. Why would Chivalry want to live in a world where it is under-appreciated?

I love Chivalry. I do not want it to die. Of course I can open my own door, pump my own gas, and carry my own luggage. I am perfectly capable of standing on a bus and I will not starve if I get my food after the men. But that’s not the point. Chivalry allows men to be considerate and show their respect for women (and I personally find Chivalry to be super sexy). Why would we want to crush that? So, here is my plea. The next time a guy/man/boy even, offers to open your door, pump your gas, carry your luggage, give you his seat or insists that you go first, take him up on it and say thank you. I think perhaps, with a little mouth-to-mouth, Chivalry will breathe again.

dear you…inspired by true movies

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If any of the trailers don’t show up, try refreshing the page. Apparently, they’re a little shy at times. Also, be warned (thanks Adriane for the comment), some of the trailers may give away a lot of the movie.

Dear Becoming Jane,

Whoever decided that a woman in her mid-thirties should look like an old maid on her death bed is an idiot. You were a great movie. Sad, but great. I loved so many things about you. But really, that last scene almost killed you. You just needed to fire whoever was calling the shots on Anne Hathaway’s makeup. I realize that Jane Austen didn’t have the many, many anti-aging methods now available, but really, there is no way she looked like that. I mean, her sister-in-law was older than she was and didn’t look so old. Were you trying to send a message that married people age better than single people? Were you trying to make me dread my thirties? Help me understand what you would allow such a travesty to happen.

With much sadness and fear for my future,

Chloe

Dear mother who thought bringing her 1-year-old to see Bourne Supremacy in the theater was a good idea,

Why would you ever think that was a good idea? First, it’s totally inconsiderate. If you can’t find a babysitter, don’t go to the movie. Or go see Shrek 3. Or wait until you can find a sitter. Or wait until the movie comes out of video.

If it was only for my comfort, I would not be writing this letter. However, that is not my only concern, nor is it my greatest. I don’t know if you realize this, but the decibel level in movie theaters can and will seriously damage your poor child’s ears. It’s one thing for us, as adults, to subject ourselves to the ear-damaging sound in the theater, it is quite another to inflict it on an infant. Especially since infants’ ears are so much more sensitive, and thus, more easily damaged.

My final concern is similar to the second. Do you really want to expose your baby to all of that violence as a baby? I mean, really. Do you think just because your baby can’t talk that he can’t be damaged by all of it?

I realize that I don’t have children and so, may not understand how hard it is to forgo my desires for my baby’s health and well-being. But I’m pretty sure that I will think about those things before getting myself pregnant. Maybe you should have, as well.

With much concern,

A single girl who wonders why you get to be a mother right now and she doesn’t

Dear High School Musical 2,

While I fully expected cheese and was very entertained by it, and you have provided me with a fantastic new “breakup song”, I do have limits and those limits start with fake shooting stars, followed closely by singing reflections in a pond, and end with lanterns that mysteriously float away, when nothing about the movie contains any other “magic”. Oh, and I can’t neglect to mention the fireworks. Seriously, you need to fire your special effects people if that’s what they are producing. Or your writers, if that’s what they wrote into the script. Or whoever made the decision not leave those bits of film on the cutting room floor.

With much embarrassment (for you and me),

A closet fan

Dear Hairspray,

Thank you! I love you! I wasn’t sure what I thought about John Travolta, but he was divine, as were all of the other actors. I even liked Amanda Bynes. All of it was amazing…okay, maybe the singing picture of Tracy was a bit much, but you’re a musical, so I guess it’s to be expected. Oh, and excellent choice with Christopher Walken. As Sarah put it, “he’s hilarious and terrifying all at the same time.” I can’t say enough about you. You are a new favorite. Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t have chosen Michelle Pfeiffer. I mean, she’s kind of fake looking and really, her singing voice is not my favorite. And even that’s forgivable. I mean, the audience is supposed to hate her, and I did. You are really and truly brilliant. Perfectly delightful!

With much love,

A huge fan (not huge like Edna Turnblad, but huge in the sense that I really love you and sing your praises)

Dear Stardust,

Thank you for being such a perfect movie. You have everything, laughter, adventure and romance. You will be the next DVD I purchase now that I have a budget. You are The Princess Bride for my generation. Okay, so The Princess Bride was The Princess Bride for my generation. But you are fantastic just the same.

I do have to say that I am truly grateful that the first time I saw you there were no crazy hyenas in the audience. I wonder if that woman knew she sounded like a crazy fool. Hmm? Anyway, even with the loud and inappropriately timed laughter, I liked you even more the second time. Robert De Niro was perfect for his role. And that Charlie Cox…delicious!

With many smiles,

A huge fan of the truly romantic comedy

16 miles

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Oh, where to begin? Let’s start with the poor preparation. As I mentioned in the last post, running didn’t seem to make it on to the schedule this week. Not once. So, I was a little concerned about my long run. Do you remember what happened the last time no midweek running happened? And that was only a seven mile long run (which, incidentally, was what I thought my midweek run would have been on Wednesday)? No? Let me refresh your memory. It was awful. I thought I was going to die and that was only seven miles.

In an attempt to make this long run as painless as possible, I first decided that this had to be a one way run, so I called my dad Friday (I was worried I would get home after he was already in bed) and asked him if he would pick me up at the end of my run and take me back to my car. He said, “Of course” and then I told him I’d call when I got to the end and tell him where I was on the trail. I figured I’d be starting about 6:30, so I told him I should be done by, or before 9:30.

Then, I made sure to be as prepared as possible before I went to bed. I got home early Friday night, after a fabulous HSM2 party. I planned to leave really early to avoid any possible heat issues. Then, when I got home Friday night, I discovered, as I laid out my running garb (clothes, energy stuff, fuel belt, etc.), filled my water bottles and put them in the freezer (thanks for the tip, Holly) I discovered that my socks, the ones I know work on long runs, were dirty. So sad. I put them in the washer (with a full load…I’m no water waster) and then headed to bed, deciding, since I had to dry the socks, I would get up at the same time, and just start my run a little later. Yes, that’s how I feel about my socks. It’s 16 miles. I’m not going to risk blisters with socks I don’t know.

The nice thing about having a little extra time for the sock drying was that I remembered to eat. I have discovered that Power Bars and Cliff Bars are really the only thing I can eat before a long run. I ate my Vanilla Crisp Power Bar, greased my body (remembering last week’s painful underarm chafe-age), put the running clothes on (sans socks and shoes), pulled my hair up, I pulled my water bottles out of the freezer (thanks for the tip, Holly) and then I finally noticed the faint sound of drops on the roof, rain drops. That’s right. No wonder it looked so dark. I knew, when I began this training, that inclement weather was likely to happen for at least one long run and so, I had already decided that it was not going to stop me.

I donned my nice warms socks and shoes, grabbed my stuff and headed out. I headed up the canyon. While the rain at my house had slowed to a drizzle, such was not the case up South Fork. It was raining. Hard. I had made this decision months earlier, so it was not a question that I would be getting out of my car and running. It actually felt fantastic to be out in the rain. I haven’t run in the rain in ages, at least not in a downpour. I was loving it. And then it slowed.

The rest of my run passed about as expected. It was long and hard. And by the end, I thought I might not make it. I hit 14.5 miles and I had this thought…”I’m almost there”. Well, the problem with thoughts is that your body often communicates them to your body and “almost” in my head and “almost” in my body are two very different things. It took everything in me to keep going. And, at this point, walking, which I needed to do on occasion for my heart, was probably the worst thing for my poor knees. It gave my body time to realize just how much pain it was in, and it did not want to cooperate. Somehow, I kept going.

I also decided at the 14.5 mile mark, that I would do the last 1.5 miles as an out and back, because I had just passed an intersection I knew and it would be easy to tell my dad where to pick me up. When I hit the turn around point, I couldn’t do it. I knew my body would quit. At that same moment, there was a slight break in my music, and I heard my phone ringing. I was almost there. .75 miles to go. There would be no phone answering. I kept pushing and pushing. I had to finish this damn run (sorry about the expletive…but that’s what I was really thinking).

Finally, it was over. I had conquered my 16 mile Goliath. I called my dad. He was already out and about…looking for me? It was after I got off the phone that I listened to my message. I should have saved it so that I could write it down word for word. Basically, it went something like this, “Chloe, this is Dad. Just wondering where you’re at. You didn’t answer your phone (really, is that why you’re leaving me a message?). I hope you’re not dead on the trail somewhere. I’m going to head out and start looking for you.”

And that was the highlight of my run. I was laughing so hard. I know it’s probably not that funny to you, but it was just what I needed. I told him I’d be done around 9:30, so when it was 10:00 and he hadn’t heard from me, he started to worry. He called me three times. I seriously adore my dad. I got the same feeling I had when he called and woke me up at 3:45 am last Monday because he hadn’t seen my car. I don’t think he worried as much about me when I was a teenager. It’s really quite cute.

Anyway, today my body is definitely sore. Part of it, I’m sure, is that I didn’t stretch after. I know, it’s horrible, but when I called my dad, I still had about .4 miles to go to get to where he could pick me up and I was moving at snail’s pace. I think an old lady with a walker could have out paced me. Seriously. And all I kept thinking, once I stopped laughing after listening to the message, was, “Wow…and my body is supposed to go 10.2 miles farther than this. Huh.”

My playlist, once again, was the same, with the exception of slow songs. Although, after this run, I’m ready for a change, so look for a new playlist next week.

And here’s a great post someone else wrote. Check it out.

weight watchers weekly – week 11

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So, I know this is a bit delayed, but I’ve had lots going on. In any case, here we are, 11 weeks into this, and I have hit a wall. Things have been so good and I really and truly believed that I was not going to struggle with eating disorder issues anymore. But then I had a couple of not great weeks. I still lost 1 lb over those two weeks, but I definitely wasn’t eating what I should have been eating. And that’s when things began to get hard emotionally. I had some pretty high expectations for last week. I was ready to recommit. That was the plan.

The thing is, when planning, sometimes I think only about what I want and not what is realistic. Realistically, losing weight last week would have been extremely difficult. I was going to be traveling, I had two other dinners planned with friends on top of the trip. And once things started to go downhill, I just lost all control, which is a weird form of control in and of itself. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. I get to this place (and it’s been a while, which is why this week was so hard for me) where I basically say “eff you” to my body and my lame-o metabolism. I think, “Fine, if you’re not going to cooperate, I’m not going to cooperate.”

Since my food intake and exercise levels are totally within my control, whereas my metabolism, body shape, etc. are not (not totally, anyway), I have two ways of taking control. One is to not eat and exercise obsessively. The other is to eat everything in sight and stop exercising. Both are unhealthy. Both end with me being miserable, either because I can’t maintain the one and end up gaining back anything I lose, or because I gain weight and feel horrible about how lazy I am.

Well, I was out of control in D.C. I won’t go into the gory details, but the worst part was at the airport on the way home. I had two hours to sit there, and all kinds of food options. I wish I could describe to those of you who have never struggled with this what it feels like to think about food constantly; to think about what you should eat, what you shouldn’t it, what you already ate, what you are going to eat. It is miserable. And the worst part is, I am aware of what’s going on. I am aware that it’s not healthy. I am aware that I am not really hungry. I am aware that I am going to be really angry at myself after I make certain choices. I know all of this, and yet, when I get to a certain point, I just can’t stop.

So, there was some serious binge eating going on. Thankfully, there was no purging, laxatives or otherwise, but I still felt miserable. I got home and thought, “Okay, tomorrow will be better.” But I hadn’t forgiven myself. I was still so mad that I had lost control. So while it’s nice to think, “tomorrow will be better”, if you can’t let go of yesterday or today, you can’t really get to tomorrow. Tomorrow was not better. And then it was Wednesday morning.

I was not in a good place. My week had been so busy that I had yet to run even once, which only adds to the depressed feelings. While I don’t necessarily love to run (and sometimes I really and truly hate it), I definitely like the endorphins. I woke up Wednesday morning (after choosing to snooze my alarm and not run, once again) and decided that, since I couldn’t handle going to my meeting having not lost any weight, I needed to just starve myself Wednesday and Thursday.

Thankfully, I am healthy enough now (emotionally) that I let that thought sit for about a minute before deciding that I did not really want to do that. And that is when I decided that, if going to my meeting was going to cause me this much stress, that I did not need to go. And that is how I ended up not going to my meeting.

I weighed myself, so I know where I’m at (on my scale) and I gained about 3 lbs. While I’m not fine with that, I have been working on forgiving myself so that I can move on and so far (you know, yesterday), this week has been better.

I have figured a few things out. I realized that I really do have to calculate everything I eat into points and do it realistically and then write it down. Part of what I was doing was overestimating point values. I know that sounds weird. Most people underestimate. However, when I don’t know a point value, I just guestimate and I want to be safe, so I overshoot. Well, then I know that I’ve overshot, so I allow myself to fudge a little here and there. And, apparently, the “here and there” add up to more than the overestimations. Seriously, don’t try and understand why my head works the way it does. I’ve lived with myself for 29 years and still don’t get it. But, at least I’ve learned how it works, so I can manage it.

I am feeling pretty good. It was a good reminder that, really, eating disorders never do leave you. I think, after 8 weeks, I was lulled into this sense of security. The truth is, I will probably be fighting this battle the rest of my life. And I’m okay with that. It’s better than lots of other things lots of other people have to deal with. I just need to remember that such is the case. It’s in the moments when I feel so strong that I am the most vulnerable, because it is in those moments that I forget how hard I have had to work to get to where I am.

So, as for weight loss, it didn’t happen this week, but I am choosing to not make that official, because I can do that.

…and the presentation

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*I try not to write “travel logs” on the blog, as I find that my writing suffers and I fear I will bore my readers. However, sometimes that is what is necessary. The following is a bit of a “play by play”, written for me in personal history fashion. Read at your own risk of boredom. And I have not put in names because, in this information age, I really don’t feel like having someone do a little Google search and find my blog because I posted the names of the company, the executives of the company, the university where I work and attend classes, or my team members or advisor. It’s not because I’m trying to be cryptic. However, you will be able to tell the company and the school from the photo.

So, it all started in January of this year. My friend, Catherine, encouraged me to take this field studies class through the School of Management. I thought about it and decided that, if I was really serious about going back to school for my MBA, this would be a great opportunity to a) see if my study habits and motivation had improved since my undergrad, b) raise my GPA, and c) see if I had what it was going to take to get through an MBA program. I went and spoke with the professor over field studies and he signed my petition to take the class (because I’m not in the management program, MBA or undergrad, I needed a petition).

I know I’ve discussed this previous to this post, but the truth is, I had no idea what I was getting into. I was taking this class, a 200 level English class (I had to retake it to get rid of the “unofficial withdrawal” on my transcript…which is the equivalent of a failing grade), and Accounting, along with working full time. I’m not sure what I was thinking, but whatever, that’s what I did.

I felt a little in over my head with the field studies class. The project we were given was basically to try and quantify the value of a company’s culture. There were two different teams assigned to this and we were each looking at it from two different angles. My team was looking at it from a financial perspective. The other team was looking at it from an HR perspective. In either situation, this is not an easy task, since “culture” is not exactly tangible, and therefore, not exactly measurable. We started out a little lost, especially me. With none of the business classes that the other team members had under their belts, I was already swimming uphill.

About two weeks into this, our self-appointed team lead, who had an “I think I’m so amazing that I can take 19 credits and be the team leader” attitude, ended up “resigning” from the class. He wrote all of us a letter explaining that he had taken on too much. Really, idiot, too much? In reality, I believe the majority of the reason he quit to be that this task seemed impossible and he did not want to be on a sinking ship, so he bailed out.We were left with a seemingly impossible task and no team leader. We still had a faculty advisor, but he’s a little hands-off (which I feel is totally appropriate for an MBA course), so we were left to our own devices.

Through a course of events I do not entirely recall, I ended up as the team lead (I still don’t know what I was thinking). I had definitely taken on too much, but I also knew that this was my shot. This was my chance to prove to myself, and whoever else, that I had what it would take to be a successful MBA student. And being the team lead didn’t mean I had to understand everything perfectly, just that I had to coordinate and make sure things were getting done.

To make an extremely long story a little less long, we figured out two ways to measure the value of the company’s culture. We wrote a report and created a Power Point presentation. The executive, we’ll call him Mr. M, who had requested that we do this study came to the university and both teams made presentations. It went well. As our advisor put it, “we hit it out of the park”.

A week later, I received an email from the Mr. M’s assistant telling me that Mr. M would like some of us to come and make the presentation to the executive committee, i.e. the CEO, CFO, COO, etc. Wow. I was blown away. After several emails back and forth, we finally settled on August. At first, it was going to just be me. I was terrified. Not that I can’t make a presentation, but the truth is, as the team lead, I made sure everything happened and I understood the results, but I wasn’t sure that I could explain it all and I certainly wasn’t prepared to answer their questions.

Thankfully, as it turned out, our advisor and another of my team members were able to come, as well. And that is how we arrived in Maryland Monday morning to give this presentation. I realize that’s a lot of background, but I felt like it would be helpful.

Before we headed across the country, we had to tighten things up a bit. We had numbers, but some of the were real time and needed to be changed. The report we turned in initially had a few errors (a common occurrence when all of the people writing/proofreading it are deeply involved), so there was some editing that needed to be done. By the time Monday morning arrived, though, I knew the information in the paper and presentation backwards and forwards.

Monday morning, we, our advisor, my teammate and I, met in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. (I hate eating when I’m nervous, but if I don’t, I risk getting sick). We then had about 45 minutes before we needed to head over to the offices. I went up to my room and began to freak out. I decided that was counterproductive, so I then just recited my part of the presentation over and over in the mirror over the wet-bar. I am not normally a “rehearser”. I’ve always been quite good at giving presentations on the fly. That’s not to say that I don’t prepare, but I don’t have to actually rehearse it, I just have to know the information. But, I’ve never given a present to someone who runs a multi-billion dollar company either, so I felt this change in routine was totally appropriate.

Getting over to the offices was a bit of a fiasco. I thought the building was the one just across from the hotel, so we walked over there. That wasn’t it. We tried the building next to the hotel. Not it either. Finally, we asked someone at the hotel. It turned out that we had asked the bellman, who was also the shuttle driver, and he went ahead and drove us over (it really was just a two minute walk, but I was so glad to be driven and not feel like a lost dog).

Mr. M’s assistant met us in the lobby and we were then taken upstairs to get the boardroom ready. I love technology, but that was the one that was really making me nervous. What if we couldn’t get the presentation up? What if the projector didn’t work? What if? What if? What if?

Well, my fears were unnecessary. The thing is, when you’re talking about a company like this one, everything is built-in. There are tech people available to help you with anything. We had the presentation on the screen (which was not a projector at all, but a huge monitor) and we were ready to go. The company photographer came and took our picture in the boardroom (when I have a copy, I will post it). We then left the boardroom with an hour to kill while the committee met and took care of other business. We got a tour of the building and were treated to Starbuck’s down in the cafeteria.


One of the things I really like about my advisor, a quality I hope to emulate, is his ability to be calm and reassuring without being disingenuous. Of course we were nervous and we could have been discussing the presentation for that hour, getting more and more nervous. But instead, he talked to us about our lives, told us about his kids and then, just before we headed upstairs, he said something like, “Remember, these are just people. Sure, people who run a multi-billion dollar corporation, but they are still people. You know this stuff up and down. You’ve worked hard to get hear. Just be confident and we will be great.”

The meeting was right on schedule. We were invited in right at 10:00. We entered, introduced ourselves and shook hands with all of the committee. And then it was time. I began the presentation and was happy to see that everyone was paying attention and nodding as I shared the background to the study. My team member was next. She went through the first method of our valuation. I was up again to summarize that part and introduce the second method. My advisor took care of the second method. And then I wrapped things up.

The committee had some questions. Obviously, as we were using publicly available information, they have more accurate numbers to work with. All in all, the questions were about what we expected. What I hadn’t expected was how educational this part of the presentation was for me. It was absolutely fascinating to hear the executives interact with each other. It was like a dream. I just kept thinking, “this is where I was meant to be.” I realize that these people did not get into these positions overnight, and I don’t necessarily mean that I expect to be the chief officer of anything, but it was such a great discussion. People disagreed with each other and were respectful and amiable about it. People had different ideas about what to do. People had different questions for us based on what they do for the company. It was such a treat to be able to witness all of this.

And then it was over. We were done. We did get to go to Mr. M’s office and see all of his pictures. You know, the ones where he’s standing with the President…of the United States, and the First Lady, and various other well known individuals. We got to talk about where this might go. There was talk of publication in Forbes or another magazine of the same variety (I can’t remember which one). My advisor will be writing an article for the School of Management magazine…at which point, everything will have been cleared through the company’s legal counsel and I will be able to share the article.

We left feeling really good about it all. My advisor even suggested that it would not be unreasonable to expect that Mr. M might be willing to write me a letter of recommendation for grad school. That led to a discussion about grad school, when I’m taking the GMAT, what kind of things to put in my personal statement and the fact that, while for my immediate financial future, this university (the one where I work), might make the most sense, but that it would be wise to consider all of the variables before deciding where to go. He had some very good advice on the matter and gave me a few things to think about.

We arrived at the airport, had lunch together and then headed to our different gates (we were all on different flights for various reasons). As I sat at my gate, alone, I was once again left with some time to reflect on my life…you know, the deep type of reflection. I thought about how I had arrived at this point and where the future might lead. Basically, the weekend ended just as it began, with this amazing sense of peace about my life and my future.

**Weight Watchers Weekly will be posted sometime this weekend…so that you aren’t waiting on pins and needles, I didn’t go to the meeting this week, not because I didn’t have time, but because it’s what I needed. All will be explained in the post.