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Where the rich people go.

Happy birthday to my friend and fellow blogger SVB! To celebrate, she and I and a handful of other ladies met up last night at Bern’s Steakhouse.

For those who aren’t local, Bern’s is a restaurant on S. Howard Ave. in South Tampa. It has valet parking. And a dress code. And a cheese cave. It’s where the rich people go, and where those of us who aren’t rich find humor in the “subtle” ways we reveal it.

Examples:

1. Saying “Am I supposed to tip you now, or should I do that later?” to the valet driver when you arrive

2. Whispering “Do you think they can tell I’m not rich?” to your friends while you’re waiting for your table

3. Breaking the routine for the valet driver who retrieves your car at the end of the night — i.e., Mercedes, Mercedes, Plymouth Neon with very little paint left on it

But fitting in is not what a trip to Bern’s is about. It, I learned, is all about the dessert room. To celebrate SVB’s birth, we skipped dinner (and, legend has it, dodged the depletion of our savings accounts) and went straight to the Harry Waugh Dessert Room upstairs. Which — as it turns out — is my new favorite restaurant.

And it’s not my new favorite restaurant just because I was given the opportunity to order this:

as well as this:

Don’t judge me. I brought (most of) one of them home.

In addition to what you get to eat in the process, my new-found bias toward the dessert room has a lot to do with what it’s like to be there. For starters, the dress code means you get to (well, have to) dress up, and I always enjoy a good excuse to do that. Plus, the trek through Bern’s to the dessert room is like a tour of a haunted mansion, sans cobwebs. And as soon as you’re up the stairs and walking toward the dessert room, you can smell it: all of what will wake you up or put you to sleep, depending on your body’s response to sugar. Inside, every table is private, in its own giant wine barrel, where you can be as loud or as quiet as you’d like and no one else in the restaurant will notice.

So glad SVB chose it for her birthday celebration. So looking forward to going back.

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Imperfection.

A (delightfully) lazy Sunday so far, I spent this morning finally finishing a book I started earlier this year:

The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are by Brené Brown, Ph.D., L.M.S.W.

They say don’t judge a book by its cover, but I loved it before I cracked it because the title alone points to a reality that so pervades our culture but is, in my opinion, so largely ignored: we work hard to assure that the people we encounter will perceive us a certain way, and in the process, we forfeit authenticity. And we do it so hard, with such passion, that over time, the line between “who I think I’m supposed to be” and “who I am” gets blurry. We learn to believe “I only can be comfortable if I achieve a certain image.” and we live in denial of the truth: I can never be comfortable when I don’t accept who I am.

Brown’s book is based on a study she conducted in which she came to the following conclusion: One trait marks the difference between adults who feel like they’re loved and belong and adults who struggle to feel like they’re loved and belong: “the belief in their worthiness.” Throughout the book, she makes great points. See below for some of my favorites.

From page 25: “One of the biggest surprises in this research was learning that fitting in and belonging are not the same thing, and, in fact, fitting in gets in the way of belonging. Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be to be accepted. Belonging, on the other hand, doesn’t require us to change who we are; it requires us to be who we are.”

From page 106: “I used my research to formulate a plan to lessen my anxiety. The men and women I interviewed weren’t anxiety-free or even anxiety-averse; they were anxiety-aware. They were committed to a way of living where anxiety was a reality but not a lifestyle … (in normally anxiety-inducing situations,) I try to be slow to respond and quick to think Do we even have all the information we need to make a decision or form a response?“

From page 121: “There are many ways in which men and women hustle for worthiness … the two that keep us the most quiet and still are hustling to be perceived as ‘cool’ and ‘in control.’ … Being ‘in control’ isn’t always about the desire to manipulate situations, but often it’s about the need to manage perception. We want to be able to control what other people think about us …”

And what Brown points out in the book, overall, is that life is far more whole when we drop our efforts to control what other people think — which, as my all my therapist and psychologist professors would tell you, is both fruitless and impossible. 

For more about Brown’s book, click here. And for a great video of a short talk Brown gave based on the book, click here.

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Control.

I’d be lying if I said I have never felt like what I did or said had changed my course so completely that I ruined my chances of achieving something. That a decision I made had created conditions that made it impossible for me to get what I wanted. That a part of me had so turned someone off — be it an aquaintance, a potential employer, a guy — that had I only spoken or behaved differently, the rupture that rendered our relationship over forever never would have existed.
So then I feel like thanks to me, I’ve lost everything I could’ve, should’ve or would’ve had.
As if I have that kind of control.
The truth is we are in control of what we say and do. And sometimes, that thing I say or do in fact does change my course so completely that what I thought I had coming never comes. And sometimes, that decision I make does create conditions that aren’t favorable for getting what I want. And sometimes, that part of me is why a relationship is severed.
But an important and often neglected part of this truth is that because my course or conditions change or somebody walks away because of me does not mean I didn’t get what I could’ve, should’ve or would’ve had. It means I didn’t get what wasn’t meant to be. I didn’t get what wasn’t designed for me.
And if it wasn’t for me, why would I even want it?
Once, Job said this to God (Job 42:2): “I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted.”  
Amen.
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Actual song lyrics.

On my drives to and from work and school, I tend to scan Tampa’s radio stations, most of which play the kinds of songs I only started to like when — last year, at my cousin Frankie’s wedding — I realized how fun it is to dance. And almost a year later, I have to get the following of my chest: If I always tell my friends and family not to listen to the lyrics when they’re in my presence while I’m listening to music (and I do), I probably should find some new music. Just sayin’.

Anyway, as I’ve come to this conclusion over recent weeks, I realized how little I actually listen to the lyrics when I’m scanning for songs fun for dancing and/or driving. So, I started paying attention. Here is some of what I found:

1. “Girl, please excuse me if I’m coming too strong / But tonight is the night we can really let go / My girlfriend’s out of town and I’m all alone / your boyfriend’s on vacation and he doesn’t have to know.”
(“I Like It,” by Enrique Iglesias feat. Pitbull)

2. “He ain’t even gotta try to put the mack on / He just gotta give me that look / When he give me that look / Then the panties comin’ off.” (Superbass by Nicki Minaj)

3. Male voice: “Tell me what’s next, alien sex / I’ma disrobe you, then I’ma probe you / See I abducted you / so I tell ya what to do / I tell ya what to do, what to do, what to do.” Female voice: “Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me / Infect me with your love and fill me with your poison / Take me, ta-ta-take me / Wanna be a victim / Ready for abduction.” (E.T. by Katy Perry, feat. Kanye West)

Know what those are? Actual song lyrics from songs that are actually popular on radio stations to which actual children listen. I don’t know what bothers me more: the songs, or the fact that hardly anybody ever bats an eye about them, like the anonymous commenter who responded last time I blogged about bad music:

“I think u guys are making this more than it has to be. It’s a song with a good dance beat!!!!N no disrespect, but if it is offensive or you don’t care for it just switch to another station. Stop takin things so serious!!! If I took things so serious I would never leave my house, watch television, or listen to music.”

I don’t disagree entirely. Take Enrique’s “I Like It.” It is, in fact, a song with a good dance beat. Just a song. But the anonymous commenter doesn’t realize his or her point proves mine: What has music become when it’s something we’d feel obligated to shun if we analyzed it? What have we become when we know that and choose not to analyze it anyway?

Well, I’ve analyzed. And one fun song with bad words — like “I Like It” — isn’t a very big deal. But it isn’t one song. It is most songs, and they send messages that call relationships dispensable, sex trivial and rape glamorous (Though these are just the aforementioned three. But if you don’t think there are more, turn on your radio.). And when most songs send messages like that, messages like that are normal. It’s just music. Just a song.

But is it?

This reminds me of the time a friend of mine expressed concern when I told her why I choose not to consume caffeine. Why don’t I drink coffee? Well, my body’s response to it is fun, but only until my friends start questioning my sobriety. And when the hyperactivity turns into anxiety, and my resting heart rate reaches 150, and my colleagues want to take me to the hospital (true story), the caffeine becomes completely not worth it.

“Um, that’s not normal,” my friend said. “Most people don’t have that reaction.”

True. But most people are desensitized to it. Immersed in it, if you will. It’s like horror movies. Some of us jump or scream at what we see on screen, and others sit silently with straight faces. How we react depends on how desensitized we are to it, or how immersed in it we’ve been. The more immersed we are, the less it bothers us. And maybe, in our culture, it isn’t normal to strike other people as drunk after you drink coffee. But look at what is normal:

Infidelity.

Sexually transmitted infections.

Sexual violence.

None of us like those things. We should be bothered by those things. But when our songs are about dispensable relationships, casual sex and encounters that sound a lot like rape, our songs are about those things.

Are they still just songs?

Or are they songs we hear so much they’re normal? Songs to which we don’t even react, we’re so desensitized. Songs that teach us to be less and less bothered by things that should never cease to bother us.