I just returned from the most wonderful little weekend in Calistoga -- despite the October 2017 wildfires, I saw zero scorched earth. Instead, I saw.... mustard flowers!
'Unwanted Advances: Sexual Paranoia Comes To Campus' Was The Most Prescient Book of 2017 (And It's Equally Relevant Today)
Before #MeToo. Before DeVos and the Education Department formally rescinded Obama-era guidance on how colleges handle sexual assaults. Before trump's oddly hypocritical tweet about due process...
There was Laura Kipnis and her amazing 2017 book, Unwanted Advances: Sexual Paranoia Comes to Campus.
People Who Don't Wear Black Tie to Black Tie Events... Kinda Suck (And Other Viennese Ball 2018 Feedback).
I have a confession: One time, I wore a cocktail dress to a black tie wedding.
I felt like I had a reasonable excuse, though. It was a destination wedding, and I'd spent the two weeks before the wedding beach camping, surfing, scuba diving, and traveling around Mexico. No way I was doing that with an evening dress in my backpack.
Growing up, I could NOT complain about being bored. If I did, my mom would tell me, "Boring people lead boring lives." It never felt good to hear -- but guess what? I grew up into a person who never feels bored -- and who almost takes concerns like, "It might not be fun for you," or, "I'm afraid you'd be bored," as an insult.
Similarly, as an adult, I sometimes find myself telling people who claim that Valentine's Day is "dumb," "commercialized," or a "Hallmark holiday": "It's only dumb if you make it dumb."
"If you find it uninspiring, it's only because you are uninspired.
Apparently, it's that time of year again. I know this not because I've seen Girl Scouts out and about, actively developing business, social, and communication skills... but because I've seen parents posting links on their Facebook accounts.
All I can say is, "DON'T DO IT."
One of the most valuable classes I ever took at Stanford... was Dance 46: Social Dance I. After a lifetime of feeling totally awkward and weird on the dance floor, I can now look forward to feeling comfortable -- and even skilled -- on any dance floor. For the rest of my life.
Last night, I made the biggest mistake of my life: I watched Open House, a Netflix original movie in which nothing happens for 80 minutes, and then in the last 10 minutes, everyone dies. You never find out who did it. It's literally just some random killer who is in no way connected to the characters or plot (except for when he kills them).
The movie was awful -- to the point that it is actually kind of offensive. But worse is the fact that I can never have that Monday night back. It's gone.
"Eva, just admit it," a guy friend insisted recently. 'You're a flirt."
"What exactly do I do that makes you think that?"
He pondered for a moment, before sheepishly answering, "You smile... and make eye contact.
It was simple, really.
About the Author
Eva is a content specialist with a passion for play, travel... and a little bit of girl power. Read more >
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