Ben Wyatt and the Tragedy of the Commons

There was probably a moment early on, right as the internet was getting big, when individuals all over the world logged out of a chat room and spontaneously started crying, or said a prayer of thanks to God, or petted their cat extra contemplatively. Finally, there was a way to connect with people with the same interests as them--people who understood them. 

That moment was meaningful. We all want to connect. Brené Brown says it's a human need. This is the kind of connection that makes you feel good. Like when you're reading Harry Potter and you want someone who also absolutely loves it to sit down and talk with you about where Blaise Zabini was all the years before their sixth year. 

But there's a kind of connection that doesn't make you feel good. I call it "the tragedy of the commons." That's actually already a term for something else--when ownership of something is shared between a lot of people, everyone is incentivized to not really take care of it. They act according to their personal interest, which is at odds with the common interest. They end up depleting the resource.

What I'm talking about though, is Ben Wyatt. Ben Wyatt is one of the greatest things to happen to America in this century. Ben Wyatt, human disaster. His plaid shirts and claymation and calzones and fear of cops. I love him deeply.

But this is the tragedy of the commons: Ben Wyatt is common. I'm not the only one to think he's one of the greatest things to happen to America in this century. There are thousands of girls on the internet who feel that way. And so it feels like the corner of my heart in which I love Ben Wyatt is being crowded out by other girls who are all versions of me. There are so many of us, and I just want to tell them that this is my heart, so get out.

This type of connection doesn't make me feel good. It sometimes just feels like a tragedy to be common.

Boatloads of shame.

I have a secret. Actually, I have two secrets.

The first secret is that I've never been in a relationship that lasted more than a month. The second secret is that I'm ashamed of that.

Actually, I have another two secrets.

The first secret is that I had extreme anxiety at work last week and couldn't do anything. The second secret is that I'm ashamed of that.

Actually, I have another two secrets.

The first secret is that I don't know how to put makeup on. The second secret is that I'm ashamed of that.

That's the thing. Shame turns every secret into two. The second one is more painful than the first. Nobody's perfect, after all, but if you're going to be imperfect, at least wear it as a badge of honor--something that makes you sexy and cool and chill for not caring.

If instead, you're ashamed that you're not perfect, then congratulations. You now have have three secrets. Your secret and your shame-secret and your shame-for-being-ashamed-secret.

Six Years In.

Its been six years of having It's Such a Good Feeling, and this is where I'm at:

I live in DC. I always walk up the escalators from the metro because ain't nobody got time to ride them. I love the city life--walking everywhere, good restaurants, all types of people.

I've been listening to all the Harry Potter audiobooks. Today I was walking down the street grinning like a fool because it was the Yule Ball and it was the first little glimpse of Ron and Hermione.

I'm about to graduate with my masters. This is not a drill. You will see pictures of me in the funny robes in less than 3 months.

Before then, I have 9.5 more weeks of internship, and two 20-page papers.

Current favorite thing to eat is bacon, egg, and blueberry bagel sandwiches.

I just got to the point where I felt like I could wear high heels in everyday life, but then I decided that it's ridiculous to do that to your ankles for no reason.

I finally enjoy doing jigsaw puzzles.

My niece Zaley is my love, light, and joy.

Instead of watching a new show, I'm just rewatching 30 Rock.

My favorite color is orange.

When I grow up, I want to be a cabinet secretary or an economist. I want to have a husband that I share child care responsibilities with and I want to be rich enough to own a beautiful row house.

I don't really write anymore, and I don't know why that is. I promised myself so many times that I wouldn't be one of those people who let my blog die. It'll never die, maybe just fade away someday. Not yet, though.

Here's to being six.

Surely he hath born our griefs.

What was it like when Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemane?

Maybe it was like when you squeeze your eyes shut hard and you can see colors. In some kind of time dilation where ages and ages pass in a single minute, the colors must have burst and fought each other in rapid succession across the black backdrop.

Rage that makes your whole body tense, scorching red diagonal lines. Electric purple fear that ripples out from the epicenter, paralyzing you. 

Deep blue sadness that cascades from head to foot. 

A moment of shimmering gossamer white peace. 

A growing black cancer of shame that eats its way out of the corner. Blinding yellow confusion in great dots that blur the whole view.

Blistering orange ecstasy that flares up in a sheet from bottom to top.

Cold grey scratches of betrayal across the whole field of view.

Cool strokes of periwinkle love from left to right and right to left.

Raw pink exhaustion as wide as eternity.

His body must have been racked with hideous spasms as he languished in a heap, just letting this unending blast of emotions take him over.

East v. West, Tinder Edition

75% of guys in Utah on tinder have a combination of these pictures:

-1 headshot (selfie or semi-professional picture taken by a friend with a camera)

-1 picture of himself holding a fish

-1 picture of himself standing on the top of a mountain (either looking at the camera with back to the precipice, or looking out wistfully over nature)

-1 picture of himself rock climbing/skiing/wakeboarding/motorcycling, etc. where his face is not visible

-1 group shot of a wedding or ultimate frisbee team

-1 picture with a dog or wild animal

-1 picture of himself with one or more babies or small children, usually accompanied by a caption such as "not my kid" or "favorite uncle"

75% of guys in D.C. on tinder have a combination of these pictures:

-1 headshot (selfie or semi-professional picture taken by a friend with a camera)

-1 picture of himself flanked by 2 intimidatingly pretty girls (in one variation, the girls are his mom and sister)

-1 group shot at the beach

-1 group shot of groomsmen at a wedding

-1 group shot of dudes at a bar/party

-1 group shot of dudes wearing tuxedos for an unidentified occasion

-1 picture with a dog or wild animal

-1 picture of himself with one baby or small child, usually accompanied by a caption such as "not my kid"

Caravaggio.

In Kansas City, I saw a Caravaggio. It caught my eye when I was still a room away. I approached quickly. The red was deep, and the skin gleamed with that luster, brought to life in front of me from out of the pages of my art history books. I stood inches from this canvas that had tirelessly emitted its own glow for over 400 years. How did he do it?

My time with it was incredibly brief for a reason I can't now remember--I think the museum was closing. But it is still the best experience I've ever had with art.

Saint John the Baptist in the Wilderness

#GilmoreGirlsTop4

The Gilmore Girls Revival comes out in only 5 days, but I'm sure I didn't need to tell you that. Jimmy Fallon invited us to tweet our #GilmoreGirlsTop4, so, in the spirit of #sharegoodness, I thought I would.

Because I've seen a lot of people choose the characters I was going to choose (e.g. Emily, Paris, Mrs. Kim), I decided to go with minor characters only.

1. Dave Rygalski

Forget Dean, Logan, and Jess--Dave Rygalski is the true love interest of this show. Handsome, into all the same things you are, willing to jump through your mother's ridiculous hoops to show his love?! Lane's eventual marriage to Zach is a disgusting slap in the face of Dave Rygalski. She should have stayed faithful to him and become a Korean nun if need be. Curse The O.C.

2. Babette & Morey

Two-for-one here, I know, but they're a package deal. They're a beautiful example of a life-long, committed relationship where two imperfect people accept each other for who they are. And, if you'll notice, everyone in Stars Hollow is single, so that town needs these two as their role models.

3. Gil

Apparently I'm getting moralistic here, but I also love how much Gil loves his wife and kids. He is so irresistibly good and positive and self-assured, never made to feel less by his age or his place in life. I also love how his hair is always slightly frizzy and he doesn't even care. He's a role model for me.

4. Liz Danes

I love Liz for being crazy, but for being the kind of crazy that finds her wings in a life with T.J. to live on the road with a Renaissance Fair and sell jewelry and have a baby named Doula. I love her for being Jess' mom and for embodying all of her own emotion and all of Luke's as well.