Lewisburg Alphabet: B is for Blossoms

Welcome to the Lewisburg Alphabet!

The weather is warming up, the days are growing longer, my favorite ice cream place has opened for the season… Friends, it seems that spring is upon us, and there is little that is more glorious than Lewisburg in the spring. And spring flowers are nice, but we get some incredible flowering trees.

Right now, even as we speak, this is happening outside my front door. Dig my ornamental pear tree.

Ornamental pear tree will soon be ornamented.

Ornamental pear tree will soon be ornamented.

And look at my squat-but-hardy hyacinths.

Every year, they struggle back up.

Every year, they struggle back up, bless their stunted little stems.

And ooh, Lordie. I’ve got a punk rock pussy willow in my back yard.

BUGGER OFF! -- It seemed to say.

BUGGER OFF! — It seemed to say.

But in a few short weeks, Lewisburg will be bursting at the seams with flowering trees and blossoms. (And pollen; local peeps, stock up on Claritin now.)

My ornamental pear will be stylin’ in my front yard.

It really looks like this outside my front door. Hashtag not a movie set.

It really looks like this outside my front door. Hashtag not a movie set.

The pussy willows will be furry and lush.

Oooh, fuzzy.

Oooh, soft and cushy.

And all over town, it will look something like this.

Just a mosey down the pretty street.

Just gonna mosey down the pretty street.

And speaking of pretty streets…

blossoms 1-001

HOLY CASCADING BLOSSOMS!

The Miller’s spectacular magnolia will be in bloom.

This thing deserves its own zip code.

This thing deserves its own zip code.

Meanwhile, down at the river…

Gigantic tree, in full bloom.

Gigantic tree, in full bloom.

And check out this bee, having its way with the flowering tree by the Lutheran church.

*Literally* doing what comes naturally.

*Literally* doing what comes naturally.

Lewisburg in the spring. Blossoms everywhere! This is what I get to toddle around in every day, and I feel so fortunate. It’s a visual feast that I am happy to take part in.

Come back soon to see what’s in store for C!

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Travel Theme: Sensory

This week, the travel theme at Where’s My Backpack? is: Sensory!

OK, look. There’s a part of me that wants to make crap jokes asking “are you ready to be stimulated?” *tee hee* but then I think, what am I, twelve? My struggle is real. Onward to maturity! Here’s to our senses, and please enjoy the ride.

Paris. There are small ponds in the park that surrounds the Eiffel Tower. If you lean over the railing and look straight down from one of the upper observation decks, you can see them for yourself. And it’s a little disconcerting. Note: if you have vertigo, perhaps you should avoid this exercise.

Watch that first step. It's a doozy.

Watch that first step. It’s a doozy.

There’s something profoundly invigorating about getting on a boat. At least there is for me. When I’m on the water and the smell of the salty air hits me, and boat’s engine roars to life and we are seaward bound, and the wind whips my hair around my face, I feel everything come alive. I think I was a sailor in a past life.

See you later, Boston.

See you later, Boston.

Welcome to the Day-Glo Garden at the Great Lakes Science Center. Fun fact: I totally want to build an inner sanctum that looks like this. With a killer stereo system and all the streamable TV I want. Because really, this is what things look like inside my brain most of the time. Hashtag when I am a millionaire.

The only thing this is missing is are tiny sparkly pixies.

The only thing this is missing are tiny sparkly pixies.

When in Rome

Go to the Jewish ghetto, find a nice place to eat with sunny, pleasant outdoor seating and, if the fried artichokes are in season, eat them. When you go inside to use the restroom, prepare yourself for the smell of garlic wafting down from the rows and rows of corded bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

 

I had no idea what I was walking into.

And nary a vampire to be found. Savvy.

Behold! Music is just moments away with this handy-dandy travelling turntable and a trusty guitar. Photo taken at an Ellis Paul concert. Who I need to go see again, soon, but I digress.

Looks like the party's about to start.

Looks like someone has the party well in hand.

And finally.

My place. Black bean burgers with cilantro pesto on a bed of shredded sweet potatoes. It was delicious. My mouth is watering at this photo: Paging Dr. Pavlov!

I like vegetables. That is all.

Therein lies my sensory challenge. I hope you have fun checking out the other participants in this week’s photo challenge. Thanks for dropping by!

Advice: Heart Problems Galore

Dear Bartender and Priestess,

I am a 22-year-old man and recently got dumped. Again. And this last one really hurt.

We were together for about a month, and I really liked this girl, “Sally”. One night, we got involved in a long conversation about family, and family history, and the kind of baggage we have. One of the things she told me about (along with her parents’ divorce and an estrangement with another sister) was she had a brother who was born with a congenital heart disease. I thought, FINALLY! Someone who might understand me. You see, I too was born with heart disease. I got all excited when I told her about my condition. I thought she would get it.

Instead, she bolted. First, she was slow to respond to texts and calls. Then she stopped replying altogether. When I went to her house to ask her what was wrong all she said was, “I am sorry, “Bob”, I just can’t do this.”

It’s really painful. I know my life isn’t going to be terribly long, but does that mean I am supposed to be alone for it? Sally should know that as much as her brother deserved to be loved, I do too. How can I help a girl get past my heart problem and see the real me?

–Heart Problems Galore

B: Oh, my dear young man. You have my compassion and my good will. You were born with a very tough row to hoe, and I admire and respect your desire to push it aside in the pursuit of a normal life for as long as it’s available to you.

But you need to understand that your conditions bring a special set of complications into any new relationship you want to start. Of course you deserve to be loved; we all do. But you need to find someone who’s willing to love extraordinarily.

The girl you talk about, “Sally”, has already been through an unenviable degree of pain in her life, and if you and she are contemporaries then she’s only 22. You said her parents have divorced, and she’s got an estrangement with her sister. You also talk about her brother—the one who shares your congenital heart problem—in the past tense. He had a heart problem, he deserved to be loved. Has he already passed away? That’s a whole lot of anguish for one young woman to handle in only 22 years. You’re asking for her compassion but not giving her any in return. She may be wounded, and wounded so deeply she can’t dig down any deeper to give you the sort of love you were hoping for from her.

P: Oh, I’m so sorry. As if your damaged heart was not enough, now you have a broken one. Whatever your heart’s condition, you, like all of us, are looking both to love and be loved.

Understanding what may be true about Sally isn’t going to make your heart hurt any less, but her reality seems as complicated as yours. We don’t know why her parents split up, but statistics tell us that it’s often about the death of a child. It seems that everyone in her family ran to different corners. She already feels alone. So your condition may well represent a loss of everything rather than the possibility of something beautiful and precious.

While it seems that the potential to understand your life may be there, it doesn’t seem like she’s made that leap. She may never make it. She may always choose safety. You may be a wonderful choice, and the fact is that none of us know how long we have, but you are not a choice she can make.

In life, in work, and in love, people are only capable of that of which they’re capable.

B: You need to understand that it’s not about you, even though it affects you profoundly. It’s about her, and her capacity to keep opening her heart. And it’s not that she’s wrong to draw in and protect herself. She may have reached her pain limit, and that needs to be respected, in everybody, at all times.

The unfortunate thing about relationships is you can’t make the object of your desire, desire you back. That’s the part that hurts.

You have a difficult task. When we start relationships that we think have staying power, we tend to project our cozy newfound couplehood into a gauzy ideal; we picture what our children would look like, we imagine long nights under the covers, we see Thanksgivings fifty years from now, with gaggles of squirrely, laughing grandkids around the table. What we don’t project into is widowhood at 40. We don’t imagine starting over. We don’t start relationships thinking, “What’s my next move when this relationship comes to an end?” And, unless you experience a medical revolution regarding your heart problems, that’s exactly what you’re asking your new love to ask herself. What will she do when you leave?

That’s a tough starting point.

P: There are so many myths out there about love, and most of them are fairytales. We choose to love people. And as painful as it is, we can, and sometimes must choose to unlove them. Because her choices, given her baggage, as you call it, are for safety. You’re not a safe choice, partially because your heart is damaged and partially because you’re willing to grab what life has to offer. That scares the hell out of a lot of people, and good for you!

B: You are digging into your life with both hands. You are not letting your condition best you, and you’re blazing forward with the intent to love, and do so wholly, for as long as you are able. It’s admirable, and it’s brave, and it’s intense, and it’s incredibly healthy. You just need to find someone willing to make that plunge with you, knowing the likely downside and deciding to go for it anyway.

But you can do it. The thing is, if you want to have an extraordinary love, you need to be extraordinary. And by default you are asking your intended to step outside the parameters of a “normal” relationship.

You’re allowed to be disappointed by the outcome of your attempted relationship with Sally, because you thought you had an “in”. But, as we all have to discover as we navigate every relationship we’re in, we can’t let other people’s baggage define us.

So no, Sally wasn’t capable of having a relationship with you.

P: As Terri says, you get to be extraordinary. Why not let your heart condition be part of what makes you that way? Not in a negative fashion, but in an aggressive, “one of the side effects of my congenital heart disease is that I live passionately and love deeply” kinda way.

Are you an activist for your disease? I know it’s not everyone’s dream to become an activist, but there’s something so exciting about bold people who tell you what their limitations are and then wow you with their strengths. If your heart problems are just another (out front) piece of you, then the people who come into your life come in knowing some of your weaknesses, they’re going to run away long before you fall in love…

Being part of a group these days almost always means you get a tee shirt. Get a bunch. Wear them! Go to conferences and meet ups, get to know other people who are living with your disease. Educate people. And do things you want to do. You know that the likelihood of a shortened life is your reality; what are you doing to ensure that the time you have is fascinating?

You deserve a fabulous life. (we all do) You got dealt a crummy card. (many people do). But that card isn’t all of who you are, by a long shot. Discover your passions, love yourself wildly and watch people line up — if you have time given that you’re busy having a good time.

And figuring out what groups to belong to will give you a chance to meet new people while your heart is healing. Because you cared a lot about Sally and you had high hopes. That leaves you with a very tender heart. The tenderness will heal. I think we can promise you that. (Because pssst: Both the Bartender and the Priestess have had their hearts bruised on more than one occasion. But bruises heal; yours will too.)

broken heart napkin

Pomegranate juice. For heart health.

Got a problem? Email us at bartender priestess (at) gmail (dot) com. Human non-spambots, remove spaces, insert proper punctuation. All questions will remain confidential.

Want to know more about The Bartender and The Priestess? Go here!

Thank you for reading. Now go tell all your friends about us. {{{heart hug}}}

Lewisburg Alphabet: A is for Ard’s

Welcome to the Lewisburg Alphabet!

I love living in Lewisburg, this little town that…I’ve adopted? Or that’s adopted me? Eh, it’s a toss-up. I just know I’m really happy in this place, which still comes as a surprise to someone who had previously thought of herself as a city person.

It’s beautiful here. And charming. And quaint. And groovy. It’s part Norman Rockwell, part funky college town, set in a gorgeous countryside. So why shouldn’t I celebrate it? Here’s to Lewisburg (and perhaps a bit beyond the town’s borders, into the central PA area). 

A. That’s for Ard’s.

Could it get any cuter?

Could it get any more adorable?

Ard’s Farm Market is a constantly-growing–nay, evolving–farm market along Route 45 in Lewisburg. It started as a roadside farm stand how many years ago…thirty? Forty? Long before I came to town, that’s for sure. Eventually it was given a more permanent structure. Then it was expanded upon. When the next generation of the Ard family took over, though, they came in with ideas.

It looks like such a simple place.

It looks like such a simple place.

Inside this building is some of the best pulled pork ever, and it makes my stomach growl whenever I walk in and smell it. They have a bustling restaurant and all sorts of seasonal celebrations. A corn maze in autumn (and a pumpkin toss!). A summer fun run and party. I get my tree there every Christmas. And they have all manner of goods inside.

Guess what season we're in.

Guess what season we are currently in.

Gift baskets! Local food! Products from local artists! Hand-dipped chocolates! Local cheeses! Freshly-ground peanut butter (which is the BEST peanut butter I’ve ever eaten, but I digress)! I will knock you down for their yogurt-dipped pretzels! And there’s more relish than you can shake a stick at!

Mmmmm...relish....

Relish is its own food group in central PA.

I mean, it’s still a farm stand, so it still has produce.

Though maybe it's not all, entirely, local.

Though maybe it’s not all, entirely, local. (I’m looking at you, bananas.)

I go a little bonkers in there in the fall, when the pumpkins come in. There’s little I like to eat more than squash and pumpkin, so when I have a choice of different squash varieties, I buy them all. At once. Because I can’t decide what I want most, so I bring them home and let me and George sort it all out.

But their real appeal, for me, lies in their rustic charm. It’s a little chunk of Americana, complete with fresh pie. 

More than a few people I know want an Ard's pie for their birthday, instead of a cake.

More than a few people I know want an Ard’s pie for their birthday, instead of a cake.

Plus, the matriarch of the Ard family comes to one of my classes at the gym, so I feel like I get to rub elbows with local royalty.

Fun fact: An ard is an early sort of scratch plow, which was in use cultivating farm lands a thousand years ago. I have a picture of the digging end of an ard, recovered from a Viking archaeological dig in Reykjavik. The handles, made of wood, have long rotted away.

IMG_0176

Ard. For real.

So really, it makes sense that they’re farmers, what with their name meaning “plow”, and all.

Finally: Here’s a tip o’ the hat to my fellow blogger at ouchmybackhurts, who gave me the idea (and his blessings) for the Lewisburg Alphabet. Go check him out! He’s got a Dublin Alphabet, it’s super fun. 

See you when I get to B! 🙂 

Advice: Freeloading Downloaders

Dear Bartender and Priestess,

I am a small business owner. I provide Virtual Assistant services to other small business owners. I love my business and find it incredibly rewarding. I like my clients and the variety of work they offer me. As a support (and thank you) to my clients and as a marketing technique, I’ve written a number of small ebooks. Each one addresses an issue that people in business may encounter and offers a number of ways to deal with that issue.

I get great feedback from my clients about these booklets. It helps them think about what questions they want to ask me if I’m doing something for them, or simply offers them a way to think differently about something they’ve always done.

I’ve also gained several clients this way — often because they were talking to a client and their client said, hey, you know what, XYZ Virtual Assistants has a booklet on that very topic. You should pick it up. They do. They like it, and they will often work with me on a small project to test the working waters.

What’s the problem? Well not those people. What bugs me beyond belief is the people who, whether they’re surfing or have been directed to my site, hate the booklets. Not content to say, “wowza, XYZVA has nothing to offer me, what’s wrong with my friends that they work with her?” Instead they write to excoriate me on the fact that my booklet on something requires people to think for themselves and why yes, it’s true, often suggests that a well qualified Virtual Assistant may well be able to help. It contains contact information.

What galls me is that I’ve received more than one letter, email, phone call from a stranger, berating me, complaining that I didn’t give them enough information in the free download. When I politely (after all, part of my business includes responding to uncomfortable questions) remind them that this was a free booklet and intended to speak generally to a topic, they go nuts.

People persist. They’re rude. They’re demanding. I haven’t lost my cool yet, but I worry!

Do you have any thoughts about how to deal with people who, having gotten a very lovely piece of something for nothing, now insist on belittling the offering and demanding more?

Stupefied at the (Virtual) Office

Dear Stupefied,

BNP: Oh, we feel your pain!

P: What is it with people? You offer a gift (never mind that you have reasons for offering, of course you do), people take the gift and then spend time whining that the gift is not enough and being aghast that you would actually charge for your expertise if they wanted more information. Would that the Bartender and I had no experience of this.

And in between the acceptance of the gift and the complaint, there is never a passing glance at gratitude. Not even a tip-o-the-hat to common courtesy.

It’s really depressing. It’s well past time to bring back both common courtesy and common sense!

B: There’s an unfortunate truth to the notion that if you give a person an inch, they’ll go for a mile. I generally think it’s rooted in that person’s innate desire to have power. You just gave me something; now I am going to make you give me more, even if I have to bully and debase myself to do it. But that’s not your question. Your question skips the why (though sometimes, I can’t help playing the armchair psychologist) and goes straight to “How do I handle this?” Well.

P: I think most people know when they encounter a freebie whether you’re the expert to take them farther. If they didn’t want more, they wouldn’t be trying to get it from you. Why they think they’re entitled to more without paying for it is really beyond me.

My version is people’s being stunned that I charge for doing weddings. “But you work for a church. Why should I pay you? This is my wedding.” “Do you go to my church?” “No.” “Do you contribute to any church?” if “No,” then I don’t work for you, and I need to be paid an honest exchange for the very good work I do. If, “Yes,” perhaps you should have your minister marry you! I, however, still need to be compensated for my time and my expertise. I’m old, um, mature. I have years of experience. You don’t get that for free.

I’ve actually had people spending a whole lot of money on a wedding who think I should marry them for free because “You’ve taken a vow of poverty.” No. I didn’t. Did you take a vow of ripping people off? Sigh. No, I don’t say that, but oh, it rises to mind.

B: Ha ha. A vow of poverty. I wonder if anyone has ever asked that of the Joel Osteens of the world. I often find people are surprised that I want to charge them for writing projects. If they asked me to come to their house and plumb their sewer lines, they’d expect to be charged for my time and effort and expertise. What makes this different?

P: I really think that the only way to deal with these people is to have a set fee for different kinds of work and practiced responses. You may want to have them on your website or FB page. If you have those things set out, there’s no reason to take other people’s silliness seriously. You answer their questions about the information they want as by telling them what that will cost them. It’s perfectly logical that they want more (because your freebie was fabulous) but more must be fairly compensated.

And then I think you really need to hang up the phone or end the email.

B: Yes, you’re in customer service and I understand that you don’t want to fly off the handle, but it is still your business. Be in control of it. You can choose to engage with a problematic freeloader, or, you can end your communication. For the freeloader, they’ll only be happy if you give them something for free. You’re not really risking the loss of a potential customer because this person was never going to pay you anyway. It’s not about the quality of your service. It’s about the quality of the freeloader’s character.

P: Once you go beyond their statement of their wants, your explanation about the price of fulfilling those desires, you’ve begun haggling. You do not need to be defensive. You’re unlikely to convince them — and they’re unlikely to be satisfied customers if you do. There is nothing worse for your sense of humor or your business than an unsatisfied customer. And if they didn’t like what you gave them for free, they’re unlikely to be satisfied with what you’ll give them for money.

If, as they say, neither courtesy nor sense are common, then perhaps it’s always been people’s tendency to see what they can get away with. You, however, do not need to take that personally. You offer what you offer, you charge what you charge for more, and other than that, unless people need a reference to 911, you’re probably done.

B: Practice this phrase: This conversation is now over. That’s it. This conversation is now over. And when you say that, follow it up with, “I am hanging up now/ending this email thread now/asking you to leave my office now.” And stick to it. You don’t need to make that the first thing you say, but it needs to be in your arsenal. Because the thing is, someone who’s going to try and bully you into giving away a piece of your livelihood isn’t going to care about a well-reasoned argument. There’s no “good way” to interact with that person. They’re not calling you so they can hear you; they’re calling you so they can extort you. And you need to understand that difference.

So learn how to tell someone no, practice ending the conversation, draft a stock email or letter to keep on hand to send out politely stating your company’s agenda (Thank you for your interest in XYZVA! As you have seen from our selection of complimentary downloads, we are a full-service virtual assisting company. Our professional services begin at the low fee of $$.00 per month; please see our attached pricing sheet for more information). And then?  Call it a day. If someone persists in verbal or email abuse, make sure it’s documented so you can protect yourself. And continue to nurture the clients you do have and grow your clientele selectively. You’re not obligated to work with every single person who darkens your door, especially if they’ve shown their willingness to be irate and abusive.

P: Is it possible that there are not-for-profits that you might be willing to donate time to? Yes. Is a cold call with a demand for more of what you gave them likely to be the right charity for you to assist — I’d say the odds are small. I’ve created and celebrated rituals for people who have no resources, but they’ve been very special situations and very special people.

B: Remember, being in customer service doesn’t make you someone’s whipping boy, and you’re not in it to be taken advantage of. Be strong. Be firm. Be polite. Be unassailable. And be in charge. Good luck!

WP_20150128_22_03_27_Pro-008

Make ’em a (business) offer they can’t refuse.

Godfather Cocktail

Ingredients:

  • 2 ounces Scotch or bourbon
  • 1/2 ounce amaretto

Directions:

Fill a glass about two thirds full of ice. Add whiskey and amaretto. Stir until well chilled, about 20 seconds. Strain into ice-filled rocks glass. Serve.

Got a problem? Email us at bartender priestess (at) gmail (dot) com. Human non-spambots, remove spaces, insert proper punctuation. All questions will remain confidential.

Want to know more about The Bartender and The Priestess? Go here!

Thank you for reading. Now go tell all your friends about us. {{{heart hug}}}

Advice: Promposal Problems

Dear Bartender and Priestess,

I am a senior in high school. Since the beginning of this year I’ve held a part-time job, and put most of my money into a savings account. I’m going away to college in the fall on a partial academic scholarship, and my parents and I decided it would make sense for me to work now and save everything so when I go to school I can focus on my studies, and still have some spending money. We don’t have a lot of money, so maintaining my scholarship is really important to me, and to my parents.

My problem is, there’s this girl I’ve been dating, and I really want to ask her to the prom. It’s a big deal in my school to do promposals, and I know some guys are planning big ways to ask girls on dates—taking them to a fancy restaurant for dinner, getting their girls specially embroidered his and hers running shoes (so they can be prom-body-ready). One guy got his girl a charm bracelet that spelled out “P-R-O-M” in the charms. Of course I want to make the girl I ask feel special. I’m already planning on the tux and flowers and prom tickets and dinner beforehand, and the limo. And that’s fine, I’m ready for it, I’ve been planning for it. But this seems like so much more extra money, and I know I can’t ask my parents to pitch in with this. They already do so much for me. How can I compete?

Thanks.

Prom-Plexed

Dear Prom-Plexed

BnP: First, kudos for the great signature! And your question succinctly nails an issue — a trend; perhaps even an obscene trend — that makes us ca-razy. Is it about the money? Or is it the fact that our young vibrant women feel like they need to be Disney princesses? They need public displays of desirability (and thus, validation)? And how romantic is it that boys are increasingly expected to be nothing but cash cows? (Can we even say how much we hate these two things?) Is it that nothing can simply be what it is? We’ve maxed out the stuff we can add onto the prom (What??? You’re not spending the week at the shore???), so we’ll invent this idea called “Promposal”. Let’s see if we can help. Prom-body ready, where’s the fainting couch.

B: Give me a minute to congratulate you on earning a scholarship! That’s no small feat. And, congratulations to you and your parents for taking your academic achievement and growth seriously, and making plans to preserve your scholarship eligibility. You’re just in high school, but you’re looking ahead and weighing the variables of your life with a maturity I don’t always see in adults three times your age.

As for your question…

I haaaaaaaaaaate promposals. It probably borders on the irrational, and if I were a judge I would in all likelihood have to recuse myself from this case if it came to my courtroom. Luckily, this is an advice column and I can rattle on at will.

I can just hear parents now: oh, come on, party pooper, they’re cute! They’re harmless! And who doesn’t want to see “PROM?” spelled out on their front lawn in sparklers? But negotiating the social strata of high school is tough enough without having to add in an extra layer of manufactured courtship. I *swear* this is an idea devised and perpetuated by the wedding industrial complex to train future brides and grooms to go big or not leave the yard.

P: Just thinking about this brings back the high school trauma. Yuck. And back then, there wasn’t dinner beforehand, or breakfast afterwards, let alone promposals. Yes Priestess is Ancient. There was just the wondering whether you’d be asked, the fumbling conversation in the hall by your locker and then the agonizing what-will-I-wear. Thank goodness my mother sewed! But a promposal? This is the wedding industry going amok, an extravagant marketing ploy. This is, how to say this delicately… hogwash.

That said, here you are. Living in this world.

You want to go to the prom. You want to have a good time. You want to go with someone interesting. You don’t want to break the bank. That pretty much it?

B: Going to prom can be fun. You get to wear fancy clothes, ride around in a nice car, sit at a big round table with all your friends and eat banquet food, do a little dancing. It’s a way to practice a ritual of adulthood, and fills the niche created by the (now largely abandoned except in certain circles) debutante ball. Prom-goers put themselves out there, displaying themselves as they get ready for adulthood.

Practicing at adulthood should also (theoretically, at least) contain an element of practicing what to look for in a desirable partner. Promposals can skew that. Yes, some promposals can be cute. It’s like a storybook, right? Awww. But what they tend to do is put a glossy sheen over the meaningful work of dating, which involves determining someone’s personality. It establishes an expectation that girls should expect to get treated like fairy princesses, and if Prince Charming isn’t riding in and saying he wants to take Terri to the prom with artfully strewn rose petals, then either the boy who’s simply asking (“Terri, would you go to the prom with me?”) isn’t worth Terri’s time, or Terri doesn’t merit a proper asking. Do we really need to reinforce the idea that our sense of self depends on the value placed on how much of a public spectacle we are made by other people?

P: Hopefully the girl your dating will be able to appreciate your opinion, if not have the same abhorrence that you do for the crass commercialism. The prom is really about having a fun evening, or should be, and not an opportunity to worry first if your promposal is sufficient and then if your prom-date is sufficient. 

I hope she’s a wonderful, independent, non-drama princess kinda young woman. I’m sure she’s someone interesting that you’d like to spend a fun evening with, someone you’d like to know for a long time, whether it’s as a girlfriend or as a great friend.

B: You said the girl you want to ask is someone you’ve been had some dates with. More than one date. There’s some reason to believe you’re at the very least compatible and share some of the same values. So it seems like you’re looking in the right direction.

P: It’s important for you to remember that you have great values. You’re working hard for your future. You’re considerate of your parents. You’ve thought about making it a fun date. Someone’s really going to want to go to the prom with you. Let’s not think about this as a lack in you but rather a positive. You’ve got goals. You’ve got principles. And you’re trying to figure something out. You’re interesting! If your date, who knows you, tells you she don’t want to go to the prom with you because you’re falling down on the promposing, it’s going to be hard on the ego but really, this is likely not someone you want to know really well.

If you have to, go ahead and think about this invitation as a promposal, but why not just think about it’s being asking the girl you’re dating to the prom? Let it be about the two of you. Why not make your invitation one more opportunity to get to know one another better? You’re going to have to talk to one another a long time at the prom. It’s a good idea to keep building common ground. You can be very romantic without spending beaucoup bucks.

Do you two share an interest? (hint: it’ll be more fun at the prom if you have things in common).  A little research and you can figure something out. This is getting to know someone. This is effort that will not be wasted and will stand you in good stead your entire life. Truth to tell, I find someone’s interest in me far more romantic than someone who throws cash because it’s the thing to do — something that has noting to do with me.

B: Again, being willing and able to talk to someone you’re interested in—making the effort to get to know your future date, and not just want someone who looks good on your arm—is a sign of maturity. Of *course* we all want to be attracted, and attractive, to the person we date, but a date can go sideways pretty quickly if all you have is the pleasure of looking at one another. If you wanted that, you could take a picture of that person and put it in your wallet. But your date moves and breathes and talks, so find out what interests her and go from there.

P: Looking for ideas? Do you hike? Go some place special, take a picnic. Look for a heart shaped rock. There are loads. Start collecting them. When you’ve got enough hand them to her and say, be my prom date! Take car drives, go see something special. Find two animals in the field together. Ask her to go with you to the prom. Live in a city near a favorite museum? Go see a painting, ask her to the prom. Use your bus passes and spend the day hopping on and off the bus. Go on a picnic. Play a game. Learn to make an origami flower, get really good at it. Do it in front of her, ask her to the prom.

Be creative, interested and hopeful. And the origami thing? You’ll always be able to use that!

B: I want to take a moment to beg the parents who encourage these sorts of displays, or smile benignly upon them as they’re happening…please stop. Your son is not a gesture-generating ATM, your daughter is not a princess, and we should be working toward raising young adults who are independent, not codependent. There are so many wrong messages attached to the idea of a promposal.

As for you, Promplexed, remember, when you go forward into your life, that relationships do not thrive on flashy gestures alone. Be true to yourself, your goals, and your personal value system, and don’t EVER feel like you’ve got less to offer than anyone else because you don’t put bling before substance. Have fun at the prom, and best of luck to you in your future.

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Prom objective: Don’t get too stressed. Have fun. That is all.

Ombré Grapefruit Cocktail
Ingredients 
  • 1/2 c. grapefruit juice, chilled
  • 1/4 can Sprite or 7Up, chilled
  • 2 Tbsp simple syrup
  • 1 tsp grenadine
  • sugar to rim the glass
  • Use champagne flutes for a pretty presentation
Instructions
  1. Pour a very small amount of grapefruit juice/grenadine/simple syrup onto one plate, and a layer of garnishing sugar on another 
  2. Dip the rim of the glass in grapefruit juice, and then into the sugar so it coats the rim of the glass
  3. Carefully pour grapefruit juice into glass
  4. Add simple syrup
  5. Top off the glass with soda and drop in the grenadine
  6. You can add a stir stick or straw, but don’t stir it until after it’s served or else it will no longer be ombré

Got a problem? Email us at bartender priestess (at) gmail (dot) com. Human non-spambots, remove spaces, insert proper punctuation. All questions will remain confidential.

Want to know more about The Bartender and The Priestess? Go here!

Thank you for reading. Now go tell all your friends about us. {{{heart hug}}}

Reykjavik Street Art

I was walking down a street in downtown Reykjavik when I caught a glimpse of explosive color on the walls of a courtyard behind a bar. I couldn’t stop myself. I walked in and found myself in a riot of art and color.

Kitty!

Kitty! And…is that a poop emoji, bottom right?

I snapped a photo then turned around; there was a man in the courtyard, having a smoke. We struck up a conversation–where I’m from, what I was doing in Reykjavik–and then he asked how I liked the city. 

“Reykjavik is great fun,” I said, “and has a lot of really cool things to do. But the street art is fantastic.”

This guy, right here.

This guy, right here.

As I said this he beamed. I saw the look on his face and asked, “Wait, are you a street artist, too?” He said he was (but not of the art in this photo). He said there are a handful of street artists that work in Reykjavik, some on commission from building owners, some independently. And they’re generally incredibly creative and resourceful, kind of funny, and respectful of each other’s work.

Looking good, Billy Ray.

Looking good, Billy Ray.

And the street art is everywhere. Note: All my photos were taken in downtown Reykjavik (remember, I was only in the city for three and a half days and we had some packaged trips to take, so downtown was where we wandered in our free time. I hardly claim this is an exhaustive display of Reykjavik street art). And I have ZERO background information on how this all started. I just know the art on the walls was thrilling to see. Vibrant. Fresh. Occasionally challenging.

Note: this photo was taken at like 4:30 in the afternoon. #nighttime #north

Where koalas are king. Note: this photo was taken at like 4:30 in the afternoon. #nighttime #north

I mean, I grew up in New Jersey. New York was my training city, and there was precious little that would compel me to walk down an unfamiliar alley in New York. And yet in Reykjavik…

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The lure of houndstooth was too strong.

And here.

Back behind some bar, somewhere.

Back behind some bar, somewhere.

And here.

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George looms in the distance.

Some art is decidedly helpful.

Not one, not two, but three different ways to tie a tie.

Not one, not two, but three different ways to tie a tie.

Some art seems to be more…political? Maybe?

A statement on US-Icelandic relations? Or a really cool painting of an eagle and a raven?

A statement on US-Icelandic relations? Or a really cool painting of an eagle and a raven?

And with some art, the politics are unquestionable.

Women's rights. Dig it.

Women’s rights. Dig it.

Here’s how the Icelandic and German sections of this statement roughly translate (and I confess, I presume my readership is fluent in English, so for the red part you’re on your own).

Part 1 (in green, in Icelandic): Gender equality has not been achieved. Multiple invisible thresholds still exist in the traditionally male-dominated power system.

Part 2 (in blue, in German): The Convention* entered into force in 1981 and was an important step in the recognition of women’s rights as human rights.

*The Convention refers to The Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), ratified by the UN General Assembly in 1979 and brought into force in 1981, when the 20th UN member country ratified it.

Also, I realize this is probably, more technically, graffiti. No pictures, just words. But I like what it has to say, so it’s going up.

Some bits of street art don’t make a lot of sense.

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I don’t know where that cat is going but he is hauling ass to get there.

Is quirky.

Hey li'l fella. What's your name?

Hey li’l fella. Maybe you should lay off the caffeine.

Or kind of nightmare-fuel-y.

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The Master is here for your soul. Side note: I overheard an older American woman complaining about this becloaked figure, saying it was “dreadful”. Indeed. Mission accomplished, artist.

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From what I can tell, the quote below the image translates to, “I was worst to those I loved the most.” So. He seems nice.

Or is full of badassery.

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Ride on, Wolf Lady!

If mine upstairs window offends thee I shall pluck it out.

If mine upstairs window offends thee I shall pluck it out…

...and give it to the valkyrie just around the corner.

…and give it to the valkyrie just around the corner.

Sometimes, street artists do a selfie.

Nice job, Stefan.

Nice job, Stefan.

Offer up practical bits of advice.

Who's a hoopy frood who really knows where her towel is? #geekalert

Who’s a hoopy frood who really knows where her towel is? #geekalert

And most importantly, it can remind us where our dreams can take us.

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And there he goes!

Thank you, Reyjkavik street artists, for some spectacular visual feasting. Keep making art happen! It was a thrill to see your incredible work. 

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