I'm Judging You Right Now



I'm just going to go ahead and say it:  I'm judgmental.  It's not an attractive quality, and certainly not one I openly admit to very often.  But it's definitely present.

I know I'm not the only one, but that doesn't make it right.  It's one of those things just about everybody denies they take part in.  But more likely than not, we're all offenders, at least once in a while.  It's right up there with prejudice and gossipping on my list of "Top Three Things Most of Us Are Guilty of But Won't Admit."

I am very interested in how the human mind works and I think I dissect people's behaviors far more than the average person.  I've been told I'm excellent at quickly digging through a person's outer layers and figuring out their true personality.  However, I think I can go too far and delve into the realm of judgment instead of information gathering.

Take, for instance, my trip to church on Easter Sunday.  First of all, you can go ahead and judge ME due to my church attendance not exactly being what it should.  But my family was in town, it was Easter, and that's just how I roll.  Anyway, church was packed to the rafters, as it typically is on a holy day, so I was already cranky from the heat and crowds.  Enter the woman and her two children in front of us, and it makes for a judgy scenario. 

This woman caught my eye due to her incredibly large amount of fluffy, yet rather well coifed hair. Mostly though, because of her dress.  It was strapless, quite short, tight and stretchy, somewhat shiny with a ruffled bottom and of a fluorescent orange color, accompanied by very high heels.  Considering this is not something typically seen on any other day in the DC burbs, much less in church, there were many stares--lusty admiration from the men and quiet disgust from the women.  At first with her enormous hair, caked on makeup, and grossly inappropriate dress, I was preparing for an eye roll while wondering if this woman had just come off a stripper shift.

But then I told myself to stop being Judgy von Judgerson.  Maybe she had made a conscious decision to wear this.  I really pushed myself to see past my initial thoughts of being quizzical as to why one would wear such a dress to church, and this is what I found:  A mother who was excited to take her two kids to Easter mass all dressed up. 

Upon further examination, I realized the daughter (I imagine she was around 8) sported a dress of the same shocking orange hue as her mother.  I also noticed that unlike her mother's stretchy fabric, hers was of bridal satin material, and was pinned in the back because it was too large.  The boy (probably around 5) was less fancy, but cute in his cargo shorts and polo shirt of--that's right--bright fluorescent orange.  Both mother and daughter also had big orange flowers in their hair.  While completely ignoring mass, I came to a conclusion that I stick by even now:  The three of them had been to a wedding or some similar event the night before.  I figured that's why they all matched and the mother's hair was still large and done up.  We all know that bridesmaids' dresses are traditionally hideous, and this one would be no exception.  I figured those dresses, no matter how bold and unexpected, were the fanciest thing that family owned, and they wanted to dress up for the big holiday.

After doing this mental exercise, I felt myself physically and emotionally soften.  I couldn't believe that I originally perceived this woman as skanky, especially after briefly talking to her and discovering how sweet she seemed.  Had I not reached inside and shut off the judge button, I never would have noticed how special this day was for the three of them, dressed to the nines.

May you safely escape my gavel of judgment.

I can't figure out why I am so quick to judge.  It's an easy, cowardly way of adults bullying each other without being perceived as overt bullies.  It might make us momentarily feel superior, but really all this behavior achieves is to make us look petty, and to breed anger and hate in our hearts.  I know when I'm in my less judgmental phases I feel happier, possibly because I'm consciously seeking out things to compliment in other people instead of to criticize.  I find it interesting that although judging people is really intended to make ourselves feel better, it only succeeds in highlighting our own insecurities for all to see.  These judgmental tendencies are obvious to others not only when stated out loud, but also by our behaviors and unconscious eye movements and facial expressions.  Simply ignoring our desire to blurt out comments isn't enough; we need to change our inner workings of the mind that cause us to immediately produce judgmental thoughts in the first place.

I have attempted to curb my judgmental comments and thoughts at numerous points in my life.  I've given it up for Lent, I've used it as a New Year's resolution, and have just plain tried quitting cold turkey countless times.  It's an insanely difficult task to undertake.  Once I attempt to correct the behavior, I notice it everywhere.  It makes me wonder if all societies are as judgmental as ours.  I can't help but doubt that women in small tribes somewhere scoff at the loincloth one of their fellow tribeswomen wears.  And instead of laughing or mocking someone for performing a task incorrectly, a form of instant judgment, I tend to think that people in small villages would instead help each other, and teach how to correctly perform said task.

The problem lies in how pervasive judgmental attitudes are in our society.  It's not only accepted, but often lauded.  Our reality shows (don't worry, I will have a future post on my dislike of those) are full of people judging each other and they make crazy amounts of money.  Sarcasm and biting humor has been pushed to the forefront as a preferred comedic style.  Just look at skits like "Really? With Seth" on Saturday Night Live.  For months I swore the writers of SNL had followed me around and stole that skit from my life.  Although I still find it hilarious, I realize the basis of the entire skit is to make other people look like fools by judging them.

Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe it's just human nature to be judgmental, but I doubt it.  I believe people who are truly and utterly happy are the least judgmental.  They don't need to cut down others to feel good. Who cares if someone is wearing shoes that YOU think are hideous?  Who cares if someone talks in a manner YOU find odd?  Who cares if someone has put on a little weight? Who cares if someone chooses a profession YOU consider menial.  We, as people, are diverse and should celebrate our diversity rather than attempting to erase it with underhanded comments.  Instead, we live in narcissistic worlds where we expect everyone else to live up to our personal standards.

Granted, this is all easier said than done.  As I write about being less judgmental, I've already judged you for having so little to do that you're still reading this post.  However, I'm trying to be better.  I'm using my example of the lady in the flourescent orange dress as a reminder that things are not always as they seem, and quite frankly it doesn't matter if I know the true reasoning behind why people do/wear/say things. Hopefully by being less judgmental of others, it will prompt me to be less judgmental of myself.  Seeing as how I'm my own worst critic, I think cutting myself a little slack is a good thing. 

Ultimately, we'll all become happier by spreading around more compliments and fewer dirty looks at that too-short, too-shiny, too cleavage-revealing, hideously patterned, headband of a dress the slightly overweight, tired looking person of merely average attractiveness in front of you is wearing while on the way to her laughably mediocre job, before she goes home to her pathetic life.  That, or we'll all become ugly, weirdo slobs who don't give a crap about anything.  Either way, we'll certainly be happier and smiling a lot more.

The Day the Music Died

It’s no secret that I’m a music freak.  Music moves me like few other things can.  A well executed song can leave me silently introspective, while a rousing live performance can leave me blabbering like a giddy school girl for days.  Music speaks to me, and I truly don’t know that I could survive without it.

It’s really rather surprising to me that I didn’t further pursue musical instruments past my teen years, although I imagine I will learn the guitar at some point.  I mean, that is the first step to fulfilling a goal of mine--coming back in my next life as a famous bass guitarist.  It’ll be grand.

This music love has helped me win countless games of “Name that Tune," as I can oft recognize songs within two to three notes.  As much as I enjoy lyrical genius in songs, what really moves me is the instrumental.  I like mentally picking apart songs to figure out which instruments are being used, which notes are being hit, and what “time” the song is being played in.  It’s dorky, but it moves me.

I’ve sometimes been teased for my musical interests, because many are off the beaten path.  My tastes are quite eclectic; I can appreciate good musicianship in everything from classical to oldies to modern indie bands to some well-liked rock bands.  However, I believe that it’s necessary to explore outside the mainstream to find quality music.  Too often, music pushed to the forefront by radio, internet, MTV (when they used to push music) and iTunes can be canned garbage with no soul.  It doesn’t take much to use a drum machine and synthesizer, then add in some awful vocals tweaked by Auto-Tune.  I think that’s one of the reasons I enjoy seeing live music so much, because I get to weed out which bands actually play music well, and which are simply hacks who can't perform without studio enhancements.

Having said all that, we arrive at the part of this post that pains me the most.  I have to admit the following:  I like Lady Gaga and Katy Perry.

There, I said it.  I’m not proud of it.  What is even worse is that mine is not a casual liking, but I actually seek out their music.  If you can call it music.  But just try playing one of those poppy Gaga songs on the radio and challenge me to not sing along.  You better believe I’ll be bursting out with “Papa, paparazzi!” at random points for the rest of the day.  Katy Perry is even worse.  She puts out precisely the type of teeny-bopper mainstream pop that I would typically turn up my nose at.  But there’s something about her music that creates such a severe brain worm for me, that I get called out by co-workers for singing “Teenage Dream” under my breath.

Even Gaga's meat dress entices me.

Granted, Lady Gaga is actually trained in the arts and plays the piano.  However, I don’t typically find her tunes to be particularly complex or unique.  In fact, when she was on her rise to stardom, I was very anti-Gaga due to her songs bearing haunting similarities to already existing material.  For example, the beginning of “Bad Romance” smacks of the intro to The Offspring’s “Self Esteem.”  And I still can’t hear “Alejandro” without freezing in horror, thinking radio stations might have actually started playing Ace of Base’s “Don’t Turn Around” again.  I thought it was just me noticing such things, but since embarking on my Gaga-bashing campaign a couple years ago, I have found others who quietly make similar accusations.  If only her re-worked songs weren’t so darn catchy.

Both of these women rely largely on their personae, instead of actual musical talent, to sell records.  They’re outrageous and downright tarty.  Yet we can't look away and continue to eat it up, even begging for more.  It's not really their fault, because that’s how the industry works.  Like it or not, sex sells and rockets musicians to the top of the charts more than, and faster than, solid talent. 

Perry's classy moment in "California Gurls"

I can’t begrudge them for doing what they felt they had to in order to fulfill their dreams of stardom.  As ditzy as they both can come off sometimes, I really do think they’re both intelligent.  I understand that there are countless people advising them and marketing them, but they undoubtedly exhibit enough intelligence to know what makes them hot commodities.  If they weren’t smart, they’d allow themselves to have embarrassingly public breakdowns a la Britney Spears.

I’ve recently “come out” with my humiliating admission of Gaga-Perry love.  I was underground for a long time, trying to hide the fact that a 30-something is shaking her booty to the same music as 13-year-old girls.  I’ve taken a lot of flak from fellow music junkies who question my tastes.  They say I’m what’s killing the music industry and good musicians die a little inside every time I play a Katy Perry song.  But I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s OK to have guilty pleasures sometimes, and this one is mine.  So if you’ll excuse me, it’s now time for me to put on an inappropriately short skirt, frighteningly tall heels, oversized sunglasses, and go completely “gaga” over “Poker Face.”

Death Dissonance

Last week at work, some of my co-workers were discussing what an amazing year it has been for news.  Not just news, but huge news.  From a congresswoman getting shot in Arizona to historic, deadly storms ripping through the south.  Recently, there's also been huge news skewing toward the positive.  For those of us in the industry who have to listen to constant buffets against the media, we are well aware that “good news” is hard to find.  

We find ourselves in the midst of interesting, changing times.  Times when masses rise up against oppressive leaders in North Africa and the Middle East.  Times when a pope (like him and the church or not) is on the fast track to become a saint.  Times when fervor over a royal wedding, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to some of us, produces fantasies of being a princess in women of all ages.  And a time when the most wanted man in America, and possibly around the world, can no longer terrorize innocents.

That being said, I’m torn on Osama bin Laden’s death.   At first, that may seem like a shocking statement.  But think about how morbid it is to celebrate a person’s death.  In no way, shape or form do I condone, advocate or agree with a single thing he did or stood for.  But traditionally, I also do not condone or agree with “eye for an eye” type of justice.  I’m anti-war, anti-death penalty and basically anti-murder.  

Initially, I had wanted to avoid getting political in my blog, as I get enough of that in everyday life in DC.  But the cognitive dissonance is making my brain buzz.  This man not only orchestrated the 9/11 attacks on innocent American people, but also previous deadly strikes.  The suffering at his hands is immense, even if not directly.  Osama could be likened to Charles Manson in that both are abhorrent figures blamed for murders, yet are figureheads for certain ideologies as opposed to executors of the details of said ideologies.  Cowardly? Yes.  But still powerful nonetheless.  We loathe them for their brainwashing of those vulnerable enough to be influenced.  (Please note I am not definitively saying these men never, ever killed a person.  I am just saying evidence lacks for death at their hands, yet they’re known for their masterminding of evil plots.)

It’s easy to get caught up in the moment of such events and to experience an outpouring of emotions.  As we’ve all undoubtedly seen on TV by now, thousands of people headed to the White House to cheer and chant.  While the original sentiment may be noble, it quickly devolved into a gross display of mob mentality.  “It’s awesome, finally the guy’s dead!”  one girl yelled into the reporter's microphone.  “We got ‘em, we got ‘em!” screamed others.  “You don’t mess with America, man,” another so eloquently expressed.

You may have guessed by now that the average age of many of these people dancing in the streets in the early morning hours was around 20.  Do these youngsters even understand the gravity of this situation?  Maybe.  But let’s remember that they were around 10 when the biggest Osama bin Laden event—9/11—took place.   In speaking with one of our interns recently about that day nearly 10 years ago, she said she remembered it being a big deal, but at that age it was tough to understand the complexity of the offense.   Today, she has a better understanding, but admits she may never fully share the disgust and horror to the same degree that older generations do.  For this reason, among others, it bothers me to watch drunk and/or giddy masses of America’s youth coming out on a Sunday night to make fools of themselves on TV by dancing provocatively on people’s shoulders and screaming “WOOOO” or “party time” into any microphone shoved in their faces.  You know I love a good party as much as the next person.  But this is a raucous celebration I think I’ll sit out.  

Take, for example, the account by a reporter for Washingtonian magazine: "'It honestly felt like a gigantic frat party,' says Yospyn, noting the the large number of college students, cans of beer in hand, who appeared to make up the bulk of the crowd."  Really?  One of the most influential moments in American history in the past decade, and young people decide the way to celebrate is by foolishly screaming and bringing cheap beer to the White House lawn?  Not to mention making pleas into the TV cameras to have their college finals postponed the next day.  I have to say, I'm embarrassed for them, and I am embarrassed that this is the representation of America that other countries saw.

True, I made a snarky comment on Facebook about celebrating with freedom fries, shots of alcohol and 72 virgins for all.  I also tried bringing levity to the heavy situation by posting the following silly picture:

But I think my FB friends can identify my foolishness and realize the difference between that and mindlessly waving arms and cheering in public to get the attention of a television crew in front of the White House.

Photo courtesy of ARLnow.com

 In contrast to the ridiculous scene in front of the White House, take a look at this picture of the scene at the Pentagon Memorial last night.  A couple dozen visitors stopped by to mark the true significance of last night's events.  We can never get back these lost souls, but the least we can do is honor them in a respectful manner instead of at a beer-guzzling brouhaha.

Those old enough to remember the sinking feeling in the pits of our stomachs and the paralyzing fear of “Where next”, “How many more attacks” and "Was my loved one there" appear to embrace the more sedate manner of “celebrating.”  Watching those aged 30+ scattered in the White House crowd mirrors the sentiment of many of my friends and family members—that of quiet remembrance.  We mourn the lives lost, proudly remember those involved in keeping America safe on domestic and foreign fronts, and rue that day in 2001 that forever changed how we live. 

But the unfortunate reality is this is largely a symbolic death.  Killing Osama bin Laden does not end terrorism.  It does not end all future senseless attacks on innocents.  In fact, Americans are now under a worldwide travel alert for fear of attacks by bin Laden’s followers.  He had spent nearly a lifetime laying the groundwork for a widespread terror network, and his disturbingly large contingent is still alive and well.  One might even debate how much influence he still held in the actual dealings of the network, considering how many henchmen we hear about carrying out their own attacks in the name of al Qaeda.  

Terrorism is an act of hate, and I’m not convinced that killing a terrorist is anything more than a simple retaliatory action which breeds more hate.  It may temporarily make us feel avenged and more powerful following years of insecurity and uncertainty.  However, such a string of killings theoretically could go on forever.  Where does it end?

I understand the significance of this event.  I do think it will boost our country’s sagging morale.  I commend the thousands of men and women who contributed to finding the world's most dangerous man.  It will likely help our safety and security in the long run.  But I do not think we have instantaneously achieved peace.  I question if it would have been possible to capture bin Laden and bring him to justice.  In the end, I believe death begets death.

With that, I shall leave you with a quote from Mark Twain that seems most relevant right now, as it reflects my internal conflict: "I've never wished a man dead, but I've read some obituaries with great pleasure."