While in Kyrgyzstan, I met very few girls. Indeed, if you're looking for a romantic adventure, Kyrgyzstan is one of the last places I'd recommend that you go. However, I did meet one-- a Russian/Kyrgyz girl who I fancied to no end, named Olya. We got a drink together. Between her sticking to orange juice at the bar and her 2 out of 10 English, the chemistry was lacking. At the end, we hugged. I went for the kiss on the cheek, but got rejected (since she couldn't "turn the cheek" to reject me because I was already aiming at her cheek, she put her head down and I ended up kissing her on the top of the head).
Anyway, I left her town the next day, and I haven't really thought about Olya much ever since. But last week, I got an email from her. It took me awhile to realize who "Olya" was, but when I did, I was delighted-- my little Kyrgyz girlfriend has written!
Now, I go in phases with email. Sometimes I'm on top of the ball, and respond to everything right away. Other times, I get hideously backed up and won't respond to anything for days and days. This was one of those times.
So yesterday, a week after I had received her email, I had not yet responded. Then I received this:
From: Ольга Попова
To: Tim Urban
Sent: Tuesday, October 23, 2007 7:47:22 AM
Hey Tim
I think you forgot me at all. Just say Good buy to me.
Olya.
This is my life.
Anyway, in other news, after my brilliant reverse jinx, the Red Sox have come back yet again in to win a postseason series. In fact, they've completed a dramatic comeback in four of their past five postseason apperances:
1999: came back from 0-2 to beat the Indians in the ALDS
2003: came back from 0-2 to beat the A's in the ALDS
2004: came back from 0-3 to beat the Yankees in the ALCS
2005: no comeback
2007: came back from 1-3 to beat the Indians in the ALCS
In that time, in 17 postseason games in which the Red Sox were facing elimination, they've gone 14-3. In 8 games in which the other team was facing elimination, the Red Sox have gone 7-1 (the Aaron Boone game being the only loss). If you take out the overlap, they've won 17 of 20 postseason games in which either team was facing elimination since 1999.
And-- just for fun-- since Mariano Rivera blew the 2001 World Series, the Yankees are 5-10 in 15 postseason games in which either team faces elimination. The Red Sox are 14-2 in 16 elimination games in that same span of time. What a remarkable, and beautiful, role reversal.
So tonight, my team takes on the streaking Rockies in the World Series. This is a pivotal game. Either:
-the Red Sox win-- Colorado believes that the long layover has cooled them down, and the Red Sox feel confident.
or
-the Rockies win-- both teams believe the Rockies are still red-hot, despite the layover, the Rockies know they can beat Beckett, and the Sox suddenly face a must-win game the next day.
I'm terrified.
I'm emotionally vulnerable.
I wish Olya were here.
The Sad Life of a Fan
The Red Sox are hurting my feelings.
They lost their 3rd straight to Cleveland yesterday, and now must win 3 straight to advance. Which seems unlikely at the moment.
Today, I found myself calling Red Sox friends and basically doing a Halle Berry in Monster's Ball "Can you make me feel good?!" impression, asking them for words of optimism. But their feelings are hurt too.
That's what sucks about being a sports fan. At some point throughout the season, the fans of 29 of the 30 teams will end up having their feelings hurt. This year, the Red Sox had an excellent run, finally winning the division, sweeping a talented Angels team, outlasting the Yankees-- and yet now, they're one loss from crushing my gentle spirit. Even the great Patriots-- everything a sports fan could ever ask for-- have hurt my feelings both of the last two years (last year they led me to an hour-long solo walk during which I questioned my will to live).
Imagine if you had a friend that ended up leaving you in Halle Berry "Can you make me feel good?!" mode 29 out of every 30 years on average. What kind of dickish friend would that be?
And yet, I won't ever abandon my teams. I'm like a woman in an abusive relationship, who stays loyal for life despite the way she's treated. Except I have two abusive husbands (the Red Sox and Patriots), an abusive brother-in-law (the Celtics), and a bunch of abusive boyfriends-on-the-side (my annual March Madness favorites, Tiger Woods (who I always root for), my fantasy football and baseball teams, etc.). I work on dinner all day (hamburgers) and they come home and hit me. Just because I forgot to get relish. And I just keep coming back.
They lost their 3rd straight to Cleveland yesterday, and now must win 3 straight to advance. Which seems unlikely at the moment.
Today, I found myself calling Red Sox friends and basically doing a Halle Berry in Monster's Ball "Can you make me feel good?!" impression, asking them for words of optimism. But their feelings are hurt too.
That's what sucks about being a sports fan. At some point throughout the season, the fans of 29 of the 30 teams will end up having their feelings hurt. This year, the Red Sox had an excellent run, finally winning the division, sweeping a talented Angels team, outlasting the Yankees-- and yet now, they're one loss from crushing my gentle spirit. Even the great Patriots-- everything a sports fan could ever ask for-- have hurt my feelings both of the last two years (last year they led me to an hour-long solo walk during which I questioned my will to live).
Imagine if you had a friend that ended up leaving you in Halle Berry "Can you make me feel good?!" mode 29 out of every 30 years on average. What kind of dickish friend would that be?
And yet, I won't ever abandon my teams. I'm like a woman in an abusive relationship, who stays loyal for life despite the way she's treated. Except I have two abusive husbands (the Red Sox and Patriots), an abusive brother-in-law (the Celtics), and a bunch of abusive boyfriends-on-the-side (my annual March Madness favorites, Tiger Woods (who I always root for), my fantasy football and baseball teams, etc.). I work on dinner all day (hamburgers) and they come home and hit me. Just because I forgot to get relish. And I just keep coming back.
The Social Rulebook
I was on the street today, walking past a bar/restaurant.
"Excuse me," said a man sitting at one of the outdoor tables. He was addressing me. "Do you happen to have a cigarette?" he asked.
I didn't.
As I prepared to continue on my way, I noticed that he was working on a basket of intensely delicious-looking chicken fingers. And I was hungry.
So why is he allowed to ask me for a cigarette and I can't ask him for a chicken finger?
If anything, I craved one of his delectable fingers far more than he yearned for a cigarette. So what the hell?
Now, I realize these aren't exactly parallel situations-- for one, he's most likely planning to eat all of his chicken fingers while seated there, while even the most enthusiastic smoker probably wouldn't go through a whole pack in one sitting.
But how about gum? How is asking a stranger for a piece of gum any more inappropriate than asking a stranger for a cigarette? And yet, it is not allowed.
While at first you may think, "Well, you could kind of ask someone for a piece of gum," I want you to actually envision the situation:
You're standing on the street waiting for the little white man to allow you to cross the road. And you decide you want some gum. You turn to the woman next to you on the corner and ask, "Excuse me-- do you happen to have any gum?"
That would be weird.
So cigarettes-- fine. Chicken fingers and gum? Not fine. Society has decided what's fine and what's not fine-- and done so somewhat arbitrarily-- and that's that.
Some examples:
Fine: Asking a stranger for directions.
Not fine: Asking a stranger something less exact, like where "a good restaurant is," or if it's "supposed to be nice or rainy tonight."
Fine: Walking up to a random girl in a bar or party and introducing yourself.
Not fine: Walking up to a random girl in any other situation and introducing yourself.
Fine: Petting a stranger's dog if the dog comes up to you on the street.
Not fine: Patting a stranger's kid on the head if he comes up to you on the street.
Fine: Sitting at a cafe with a friend, talking to them at normal volume.
Obnoxious: Sitting alone at a cafe on the phone with that same friend, talking at that same volume.
Fine: Yelling, "Screw you!" at a nice, 60-year-old woman who accidentally cuts you off in her car.
Not at all fine: Yelling, "Screw you!" at a nice, 60-year-old woman who accidentally bumps into you while walking on the sidewalk.
Fine: Making out with your girlfriend in a dimly-lit bar.
Not fine: Making out with your girlfriend in a dimly-lit restaurant.
Fine: Someone singing or doing magic on the street for money.
Weird: Someone doing stand-up comedy on the street for money.
Fine: Turning to the unknown man next to me in Fenway Park and hugging him ferociously after a walk-off home run.
Not fine in the least: Turning to the unknown man next to me in any other situation and hugging him ferociously.
Fine: Singing to yourself under your breath in public.
Insane: Talking to yourself under your breath in public.
Fine: Going to a bar with your friend, losing him, and spending most of the night meeting people on your own.
Weird/creepy: Going to a bar alone and spending most of the night meeting people on your own.
Fine: Spending all day on the beach in nothing but a bathing suit.
Not fine: Spending all day on the beach in nothing but boxers.
Fine: Getting into a football game so much that you wear a player's jersey to the stadium.
Not fine: Getting into a movie so much that you wear a character's outfit to the theater.
Fine: Kissing your friend's mother lightly on the cheek when greeting her.
Completely weird: Kissing your friend's mother lightly, anywhere else on her head, when greeting her.
Fine: Complimenting someone by asking them if they've lost weight.
Not fine: Complimenting someone by asking them if they've gotten a nosejob.
Fine: Bringing food or wine to a dinner party to help bear the burden.
Not fine: Giving cash to the host of a dinner party to help bear the burden.
Fine: Asking a stranger to take a picture for you (something you can't do without help).
Not fine: Asking a stranger to hold your ice cream cone while you tie your shoe (something you also can't do without help).
Fine: Setting a guy friend up with a girl he might like to date.
Not fine: Setting a guy friend up with a guy he might like to be friends with.
Fine: Two people on a basketball court asking two strangers on the court if they want to play a game.
Weird: Two people on a tennis court asking two strangers on the court if they want to play doubles.
Fine: Walking around the bar at night with a bottle of beer.
Weird: Walking around the bar at night with a bottle of soda or water.
Fine: Taking a sip of a friend's drink at a baseball game, despite potential germs.
Filthy: Taking a sip of a stranger's abandoned drink after they leave the baseball game, despite potential germs.
It's funny how saturated our lives are with strict, specific customs, and how little we think about it. Heading out of the house to do a few errands and grab a bite with a friend, you'll partake in and abide by dozens of cultural customs, most of which are completely necessary to avoid embarrassment, awkwardness, and danger.
Someone who commits certain slight violations of some of these customs might be called "outgoing." Any more than that will lead to adjectives like "shameless," "rude," "offensive," "dickish," "weird," "gross," "creepy," etc. (Curb Your Enthusiasm constantly bases their plots on Larry's questioning of these arbitrary customs. It works because on one hand, he always has a good point-- these societal rules don't make that much sense-- and on the other hand, when he breaks or challenges them, a tremendously awkward interaction ensues.)
Anyway, I never ended up asking for one of the guy's heavenly chicken fingers. I, like all of you, am thoroughly entrenched in our social matrix. And now I'm back at my apartment, and I'm still hungry. And I'm gonna end up eating something that's much less delicious than what that guy was eating. And that sucks.
"Excuse me," said a man sitting at one of the outdoor tables. He was addressing me. "Do you happen to have a cigarette?" he asked.
I didn't.
As I prepared to continue on my way, I noticed that he was working on a basket of intensely delicious-looking chicken fingers. And I was hungry.
So why is he allowed to ask me for a cigarette and I can't ask him for a chicken finger?
If anything, I craved one of his delectable fingers far more than he yearned for a cigarette. So what the hell?
Now, I realize these aren't exactly parallel situations-- for one, he's most likely planning to eat all of his chicken fingers while seated there, while even the most enthusiastic smoker probably wouldn't go through a whole pack in one sitting.
But how about gum? How is asking a stranger for a piece of gum any more inappropriate than asking a stranger for a cigarette? And yet, it is not allowed.
While at first you may think, "Well, you could kind of ask someone for a piece of gum," I want you to actually envision the situation:
You're standing on the street waiting for the little white man to allow you to cross the road. And you decide you want some gum. You turn to the woman next to you on the corner and ask, "Excuse me-- do you happen to have any gum?"
That would be weird.
So cigarettes-- fine. Chicken fingers and gum? Not fine. Society has decided what's fine and what's not fine-- and done so somewhat arbitrarily-- and that's that.
Some examples:
Fine: Asking a stranger for directions.
Not fine: Asking a stranger something less exact, like where "a good restaurant is," or if it's "supposed to be nice or rainy tonight."
Fine: Walking up to a random girl in a bar or party and introducing yourself.
Not fine: Walking up to a random girl in any other situation and introducing yourself.
Fine: Petting a stranger's dog if the dog comes up to you on the street.
Not fine: Patting a stranger's kid on the head if he comes up to you on the street.
Fine: Sitting at a cafe with a friend, talking to them at normal volume.
Obnoxious: Sitting alone at a cafe on the phone with that same friend, talking at that same volume.
Fine: Yelling, "Screw you!" at a nice, 60-year-old woman who accidentally cuts you off in her car.
Not at all fine: Yelling, "Screw you!" at a nice, 60-year-old woman who accidentally bumps into you while walking on the sidewalk.
Fine: Making out with your girlfriend in a dimly-lit bar.
Not fine: Making out with your girlfriend in a dimly-lit restaurant.
Fine: Someone singing or doing magic on the street for money.
Weird: Someone doing stand-up comedy on the street for money.
Fine: Turning to the unknown man next to me in Fenway Park and hugging him ferociously after a walk-off home run.
Not fine in the least: Turning to the unknown man next to me in any other situation and hugging him ferociously.
Fine: Singing to yourself under your breath in public.
Insane: Talking to yourself under your breath in public.
Fine: Going to a bar with your friend, losing him, and spending most of the night meeting people on your own.
Weird/creepy: Going to a bar alone and spending most of the night meeting people on your own.
Fine: Spending all day on the beach in nothing but a bathing suit.
Not fine: Spending all day on the beach in nothing but boxers.
Fine: Getting into a football game so much that you wear a player's jersey to the stadium.
Not fine: Getting into a movie so much that you wear a character's outfit to the theater.
Fine: Kissing your friend's mother lightly on the cheek when greeting her.
Completely weird: Kissing your friend's mother lightly, anywhere else on her head, when greeting her.
Fine: Complimenting someone by asking them if they've lost weight.
Not fine: Complimenting someone by asking them if they've gotten a nosejob.
Fine: Bringing food or wine to a dinner party to help bear the burden.
Not fine: Giving cash to the host of a dinner party to help bear the burden.
Fine: Asking a stranger to take a picture for you (something you can't do without help).
Not fine: Asking a stranger to hold your ice cream cone while you tie your shoe (something you also can't do without help).
Fine: Setting a guy friend up with a girl he might like to date.
Not fine: Setting a guy friend up with a guy he might like to be friends with.
Fine: Two people on a basketball court asking two strangers on the court if they want to play a game.
Weird: Two people on a tennis court asking two strangers on the court if they want to play doubles.
Fine: Walking around the bar at night with a bottle of beer.
Weird: Walking around the bar at night with a bottle of soda or water.
Fine: Taking a sip of a friend's drink at a baseball game, despite potential germs.
Filthy: Taking a sip of a stranger's abandoned drink after they leave the baseball game, despite potential germs.
It's funny how saturated our lives are with strict, specific customs, and how little we think about it. Heading out of the house to do a few errands and grab a bite with a friend, you'll partake in and abide by dozens of cultural customs, most of which are completely necessary to avoid embarrassment, awkwardness, and danger.
Someone who commits certain slight violations of some of these customs might be called "outgoing." Any more than that will lead to adjectives like "shameless," "rude," "offensive," "dickish," "weird," "gross," "creepy," etc. (Curb Your Enthusiasm constantly bases their plots on Larry's questioning of these arbitrary customs. It works because on one hand, he always has a good point-- these societal rules don't make that much sense-- and on the other hand, when he breaks or challenges them, a tremendously awkward interaction ensues.)
Anyway, I never ended up asking for one of the guy's heavenly chicken fingers. I, like all of you, am thoroughly entrenched in our social matrix. And now I'm back at my apartment, and I'm still hungry. And I'm gonna end up eating something that's much less delicious than what that guy was eating. And that sucks.
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