Bad News

After getting some very good news this week (two different medical test results I'd been worried about both came back totally normal the second go round), I just heard some less than happy news.

The Macon Knights are "ceasing operation." Yup, no more arena II football for Macon. And I'm sad to admit that I have not done my part to support the team in the last few years.

For those of you who have never enjoyed a Knights' game, let me set the scene. Mediocre football players at best, lots of scoring, a redneck audience, and the most unique cheerleader squad I've ever witnessed. For my first game, I dressed the part: tight jeans, a denim button-up shirt, and a John Deer belt buckle. I fit right in and even "earned" some whistles from bearded men twice my age.

The highlight of the game, without question, was the Knightingales. Remember the big bangs, hairsprayed, rather large hairstyles that were once popular? The Knightingales do too, and they aren't afraid to represent. Remember the three word cheers the cheerleaders performed at pep rallies in high school? Me neither. The Knightingales evidently had limited memory, so the cheers were kept to about a three three word minimum. It was hilarious. With that limited ability to remember words like "go," "fight," and "win," the cheers were also kept to only a few motions over and over. I guess that made it easier for the crowd to follow along as well. But don't worry, the girls were saving up hard drive space for their half time routine. Right before half time the Knightingales disappeared to change for the big show. And a few minutes later, they emerged in tight, straight vinyl skirts with slits up the leg complete with knee high vinyl boots. CLASSY. The dance routine did have a several steps in it, but again, it was the same steps over and over. And in the end, the Knightingales did exactly what they were there to do--they entertained us and made me want to keep coming to games.

So the next season rolls around, and I hear that auditions are coming up. My friend Heather agreed to try out to be a Knightingale if I would. I had decided to dye my roots black, gain twenty pounds, and deepen my accent to be a little more twangy to increase my odds of fitting in and making the squad. About that same time, I was assigned to intern with a federal judge though. And in reviewing the requirements of that position, I realized I'd have to get the judge's permission before taking on any other "jobs" (the cheerleaders are evidently paid per game). And as much fun as trying out would have been (I'm definitely not a "cheery" type), I didn't really want to approach the judge about that one. And now I've lost my chance forever.

Here's a photo of me practicing tumbling with my trainer in preparation of try outs, and another of me trying out my dance routine in front of a large audience (on a bar in Austin). As you can see, I'm a total natural.

This Time Next Week...

I'll be at the beach. Now that is a happy thought.

Does anyone else have any Labor Day plans?

I've Never Been a Car Person...

but I realized today that it's because I've never driven a really fun car. A friend asked me to go with him for a quick road trip to pick up a puppy for a mutual friend. He asked me if I wanted to drive his sports car, and of course, I did. I've only had three cars--an Oldsmobile '98, a Camry, and a 4Runner, so my driving experience has been limited. When I totaled the Camry (when a car is 11 years old, it doesn't take much to "total" it), I wasn't even tempted to go test drive fun sports cars, knowing that I'd just get a Toyota or Honda. I know cars aren't good investments, and ideally I'd like to keep my cars at least 10 years. But after driving my friend's BMW today, I totally understand why people are tempted to spend money on vehicles. Although I enjoy my 4Runner and feel very safe in it, this BMW was so smooth and fast. It made driving feel like a game, but it also probably makes it about 100 times more likely that I'd get a speeding ticket. I looked down once when I thought we were going about 40 mph, and our speed was closer to 70 mph. Fun times! I hope everyone is having a fantastic weekend!

I Wonder What People Say About Me

when my name is mentioned. Macon is a super small world, so I wasn’t totally shocked when a partner strolled into my office this morning and said “So I hear you’re going out with Jake Smith* (this is the guy that the other partner gave my number to a few weeks ago).” The partner proceeded to tell me that “Jake was a VERY charming guy. But he’s really wild.”

So I went to lunch with the female attorneys at the firm today and told them that I was meeting this Jake guy and his friends for drinks/dinner after work. So one of them says “Oh he’s a nice guy. He’s my son’s doctor* and is always really sweet. He looks like he’s 22 though.” I asked one of my exes, a Maconite, about the guy, and he informed me that he was a very nice guy but was really wild. When I further inquired about the “wild,” my ex said that the guy was really wild in high school—and allegedly burned down a house. Since the guy is 32 now, I doubt that’s still an issue, but we’ll see.

So anyway all of this makes me wonder simply out of curiosity what people say when my name is mentioned. I’m sure the fact that I’m not a Republican comes up since I live in what feels like a one political party town, but other than that I’m not sure. I know that before one of my blind dates, the guy was informed that I liked the crab and lobster dip at Tic Toc and that I was pretty. That’s probably enough information for most guys, so they probably don’t hear as much about their prospective dates as us girls do.

It’s funny because we all just see part of each other. Our coworkers see one side of us; some friends see another and so on. We all just get snapshots of each others’ lives and naturally base our judgments on what we see. For example, I think my friends perceive me totally different than my family does. My family’s perception of me is from the vantage point of my entire lifetime, and some things are never forgotten (like my sister will still occasionally bring up how mean I was to her 15 years ago) and inform their opinion about me. Plus I act differently around different people. I guess the fun part of having these limited vantage points is that people can and do constantly surprise us. I love it when I learn something totally random and unexpected about someone. So if you have something like that to share, please do so.

As for myself, random things include: sharing a birthday and first/middle name with my step-sister; working as a nanny for a year; being engaged in college; going to Vegas last year to meet two guys I had never actually met (hence my relationship with Donatello)…hmm I’m starting to think that I’m not that random. Well next weekend I’m sharing a house near Destin with 18 people I don’t know and one that I do. That’s kind of random.

Post note: Jake and I talked about how our matchmaker set this up, and it turns out Jake had asked around about me as well. I won't bore you with all the details of what he heard, but I thought it was funny that one guy (who I've never even heard of) told him that he knew me and said "She's a great girl, but she plays her cards right." What does that mean?

Metrosexual = Very Ambiguously Heterosexual??

Friday night I went out in Atlanta for the first time in over a year. I had forgotten how much more fun Atlanta is than Macon, and I had forgotten how 99.9% of the men in Midtown look gay to me. It’s so annoying. I’m not sure why it’s so bothersome because I do not go to bars to meet guys per se (in all my years of going out, I’ve only been on a date once with someone I met in a bar), but I guess it’s more entertaining when there are few “red-blooded” men (where does that expression come from?) around besides the three guys that I’m with. Plus I enjoy looking at straight men more. I hate button up striped shirts* (without undershirts), lots of jewelry, ironed tight jeans, snug sweaters, and the look of a multiple recent facials at Spa Sydell on a man. In short, guys who look like they spent a lot more time getting ready to go out than I did.

I shared my observations with my three guy friends who were immediately offended until I explained that they looked 100% straight (I never though I’d be so grateful to be with a guy wearing those gray frat-boy New Balances). They suggested that I just wasn’t accustomed to the metrosexual look, which is a valid argument since I grew up in a town where Wrangler jeans are chic, the Kmart parking lot is a hang-out spot, and pick-up trucks and Mustangs are status symbols. Needless to say, we don’t have many pretty boys around those parts of the woods. But I think that’s counteracted by my dating a metrosexual for six months or so in law school. This guy was way prettier than me and dressed so much better than I do that I actually started trying to accessorize and whatnot. One night we had plans to go to his friend’s party, and when I got to his loft, he told me we weren’t going. After pressing him as to why he had a sudden change of heart, it finally came out that it was because he had a zit. Despite all of this, I never wondered if he was straight. You can be a man and dress nicely and take care of yourself without seeming ambiguously heterosexual.

I was certain that the bar/club we were at had just become a gay bar, which is totally fine; but I just wanted to know since my friends contended that I was wrong despite the fact that these guys ALL looked stereotypically gay. So I decided to do a quick survey. Guy #1: I asked him if Cosmolava (the bar) was a gay bar. He told me it wasn’t and that he wasn’t gay. I was shocked. Guy #2: This guy was thin, had on very tight jeans with a huge white belt (the width was about the length of my middle finger), and a super snug red t-shirt tucked in to his jeans. So I told him that I liked his belt, and we started talking. So finally I asked him if he were gay (which I honestly thought was a rhetorical question). That went over like a ton of bricks, and he became very defensive, asking me why I would ask him that. I tried to explain that I was wondering if it was a gay bar, and he got really angry and acted appalled that I would even think he was gay. Finally I broke it to him that wearing a wide white belt with a tight shirt tucked into snug pants isn’t the most heterosexual look ever. Somehow we ended up talking about the Bible and that didn’t go so well either.

Nevertheless, I had so much fun. Oh I almost forgot, my friend Ozzy had told one of his coworkers about me and wanted to set us up. Well the co-worker ended up meeting us out later in the night, and he was wearing a…you guessed it, striped shirt with no undershirt and unbuttoned half-way down his chest as well as several rings. He came with a friend who seemed even more effeminate. Ozzy’s defense is that he had only ever seen him in suits and had no idea. The guy asked Ozzy for my e-mail address and sent me a very nice e-mail on Monday. I kind of feel like I have to respond since it’s Ozzy’s coworker, so I am thinking a three or so day wait on a two sentence response will send the right message, right? Or should I just ask him if he’s gay because that seems to go over really well with the striped shirt crowd?

* I actually don’t hate all striped shirts and own one myself. Some guys can wear them, and it looks fine. I’m sure you guys know the difference.

Praise Him under open skies
Everything breathing praising God
In the company of all who love the King
I will dance, I will sing
It could be heavenly
Turn the music loud, life my voice and shout
From where I am
From where I've been
He's been there with me
He's built a monument
His very people
So let his people
Sing, sing, sing

And it's so wonderful
Just to be here now

Lift your voice to heaven
Lift up your head and sing
To the One who gave his love
This is our offering
Lift your voice to heaven
Lift up your head and sing
To the One who gave His son
Here our lives we bring

From wherever you are
Wherever you've been
He's been there
So let his people sing


Some of the lyrics to my new favorite song ("Open Skies"), which is now on constant repeat. Aren't they awesome? (Thanks for the CD LB.) Well on reread I see that they don't have the same import without the music. But how cool is that we have a God who understands our pain and our joy and wherever we've been? As someone who was once agnostic, I am overwhelmed with thankfulness for my faith and that I have a desire to seek a relationship with God. That's so huge, and this song is a good reminder of all that I have to celebrate (even if I am a freak magnet).

I'm a Freak Magnet

Not when it comes to friends, but romantically speaking, I attract freaks. I had forgotten about this until today. So I'm having a super day and return from a mediation at 3:30. I check my work voicemail, and it shows that I have a four minute message. I figure it's this partner I've been working a lot with, but au contraire it's a song. Yes, a song is playing in its entirety on my work voicemail. And no, not a fun, I hope you're having a happy day kind of song. It's a sad sounding country song called "It's Getting Better All the Time." The song basically says that the singer is slowly getting over a love interest and that he hopes she is happy, noting that "I just might get over you, you can't ever tell."

And that's it. There's nothing else-no message or voice (except right before the song comes on a radio announcer says "Number One Country WDES (or WBES) 99" or something like that). This, in my opinion, is really CREEPY.

Note: if you did this as a joke on me, please let me know. I won't be mad; I'll be relieved!

Unfortunately we don't have caller ID here, which is probably why this person left me a message at work rather than on my voicemail. My secretary said a younger guy had called at least twice today asking for me, so who knows? But I think it's especially sorry to bother someone at work with stuff like this.

This reminds me a little bit of the time a guy I had algebra with sent me roses on my 14th birthday. He was at least 16 years old, and I only knew him because I walked up to the high school for that one class. When I had my wisdom teeth surgery he was kind enough to call me with our assignments. We would talk for a while, but it was always friendly. Then he asked me to go to the movies several times, and I always said no. So on my birthday about a month after the school year ended, out of nowhere, I get a floral delivery at home. I open up the card, and it says "With love, Russell." I thought my best friend Nicole was playing a joke on me, so I called her out on it but she adamantly denied it. So then I was kind of forced to call him for the first time in months to thank him, when really I hated it that he had invaded "my day" with such a weird gesture and I was put in such an uncomfortable position. Maybe some people would contend that it was good that he got his feelings out there, but surely he had to know that if I wouldn't go see a movie with him then surely his feelings were not even remotely reciprocated. Before I could call him to politely thank him, Russel called (and interrupted my consumption of some McDonald's chicken Mcnuggets, before they were all white meat, if I recall correctly) to say that "I love you. I love everything about you. I love the way you look; the way you talk too much sometimes, etc."

Well in his defense, I do talk too much, and I'm glad someone can love me for it AND he was 16. BUT whoever left this lame song on my voicemail is probably at least in his (or her) mid-twenties and has no excuse! No one ever calls me at work, and I never give out my work number. The number, however, is easily accessed on the internet, and it makes me wonder if that married ex-boyfriend is still obsessing over me. Ok, sorry for the rambling post, but I needed to vent. I'll edit it later!

A Needed Reminder

"Take me to you, imprison me.
For I, except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me."

-John Donne

In the Bible study I'm doing on Romans, Tim Keller suggests that I meditate on this poem (which I cannot quite get my hands around)and pray that the Lord let me be so ravished by His love of me that no other love can control me. Keller also reminds me that all of my problems are a result of "forgetting how loved, honored, beautiful, secure, rich, respected, embraced, free in Jesus I am."

Snakes on a Plane

I saw an interview of Samuel Jackson this morning about his newest movie, the title of which always makes me smile. It just sounds so ridiculous. Evidently Samuel didn’t think so as he read the script and then contacted the writer to ask if he could be in the movie. So Matt Lauer asked him to give a review of the movie, and Samuel’s review went something like this “Well some evil people put some snakes on a plane, and some people are victims and some people survive.” Yep, that’s it. There’s some I like about his review; there’s no pretense (of, for example, any plot development), and I’ll bet his review is totally accurate. I would wager that you’d be pretty hard up for entertainment if you see this movie (although it might be funny in a make-fun-of-it kind of way), but if you do, let me know.

Post-note: Maybe I’m wrong as Samuel Jackson issued the following guarantee at the MTV Movies Awards Show in June: I am guaranteeing that Snakes on a Plane will win best movie next year. Does not matter what else is coming out. The new James Bond... no snakes in that! Ocean's 13... where my snakes at? Shrek the Third... green, but not a snake. No movie shall triumph over Snakes on a Plane. Unless I happen to feel like making a movie called Mo' Motha-f***in' Snakes on Mo' Motha-f***in' Planes."

I've also read that Sharks on a Roller Coaster (with the tagline "You must be this tall...TO DIE!") is coming out soon....

I Like a Challenge....

but is it a bad sign when the teacher tells you that the next pose is called "the tourniquet" becuase it cuts off the blood flow to your feet? Since I reached my goal for the weekend yesterday morning very quickly (after my two hours of search efforts last spring, I cannot believe that I found my passport in the first place I looked). I decided to try a relatively new challenge today: hot yoga. Since I don't live in a big city, the "hot" part just means that the classroom is 72 degrees (as opposed to 100 plus degrees), which is fine by me.

The was my second class with my first being three months ago, and I was comforted by the fact that a man was taking it too. That means I won't be the only person who looks stupid and/or cannot do at least a quarter of the poses. In fact, men often leave fitness classes after the first 10 minutes. I once watched a man send the three levels of a step flying across the room. And as punishment for hitting on me while I was trying to workout, I once persuaded a guy to accompany me to Cardiofunk class. I think I told him it was a boot camp class with a lot of men. Instead the class was led my a gay man who taught us dances to "Oops I Did It Again," "Bye Bye Bye," and "He Wasn't Man Enough for Me." My guest was a real trooper for the first 15 minutes, and his dance efforts made me laugh so hard that I couldn't do the routines myself. Several women thanked me for bringing the entertainment after class. It was awesome and worth having to endure his advances for a few minutes.

Anyway, during hot yoga I find myself muttering "I don't think so" and/or laughing periodically, especially when a pose involves contorting my body into a pretzel or doing multiple real push-ups. I wish I had some photos for this post because that would ensure laughter. I had on my "I Feel Lucky" green and yellow pants and generally looked ridiculous as I asked my body to do things it has never done before, but I must admit that I felt like I had really accomplished something when I left the class. And that makes me happy (and probably sore).

I hope everyone else had a lovely weekend too.

Answered Prayers

One of my ongoing goals has been to keep a prayer journal. I’ve tried this several times over the last few years, and I usually end up totally neglecting to follow through after my first few entries. My latest attempt morphed into kind of a prayer journal but more of a venting and processing emotions and thoughts kind of journal. I think it’s a helpful process as typing and sorting through my feelings helps me, at least, feel more rational and figure out what is really bothering me.

I want to keep a prayer journal because I have a terrible memory, and a prayer journal would help me see how God is faithful and answers my prayers. I sometimes forget what I’ve prayed for, and on at least one occasion, a friend has had to point out to me that I had prayed for something and that it looked like God was answering my prayer. I was missing the answer because I had forgotten about my prayer. I know that sounds ridiculous, so just be glad you’ve got a better memory than me.

One prayer I specifically remember is a prayer for friends in Macon after law school graduation. My friends were all moving for their jobs, and I knew joining the real world was going to be a huge adjustment that would be even harder since my friends wouldn’t be here. I somewhat tried to put myself in the right places to make friends. But I ended up spending most weekends in Atlanta, going out and playing flag football in a league there and spending a lot of time with my law school friends. I obviously had not fully accepted that God wanted me in Macon nor had I realized that I even needed Christian friends who were actively seeking God. As you can imagine, I wasn’t overwhelmed with an abundance of friends in Macon, and I wasn’t putting myself in the place for God to answer my prayer.

With time the going out became old and not as much fun anymore and flag football season ended, and I finally started hanging out in Macon on the weekends. And over the last year and a half, God has blessed me with the best friends I’ve ever had. These friendships are very different from almost all of the friendships I’ve had in the past. They are so much more meaningful. And it’s because we share our faith and encourage each other in the most important relationship in our lives—the one we share with God. It’s so reassuring to have friends who give wise counsel, hold me accountable, and can point me in the right direction, whether it’s by sharing scripture, a book, a sermon, or a prayer. And for that, I’m incredibly grateful.

p.s. This post was inspired by a fantastic evening with friends--the most delicious home cooked dinner I’ve had in months (if not years), wonderful conversation, and a surprise gift tied to my windshield wipers from another friend (I love surprises!). I am so blessed.

"Can I Talk to You?"

Whenever a partner says these words and proceeds to close my office door, I cannot help but think that I'm in trouble. So on Friday morning when a partner entered my office and asked if we could talk for a few minutes, I experienced that feeling of dread and wonder at "what have I done now?"

So Mr. Partner sits down and says "I hope this is ok. I gave your name and number to a great guy last night. I told him we had a blond single attorney in our office and wanted you to know that he'd be calling you."

So what could I say? I had never even told Mr. Partner that I was no longer dating someone. I guess partners talk, and one of the senior partners and I had a DTR a few weeks ago. And in case you're wondering, yes it's awkward and weird to have a conversation about your love life, or lack thereof, with one of your sixty year old bosses. And it's funny to see the ways different partners go about asking about it without coming out and directly asking. I'm not complaining though. Even though it's definitely odd at times (keep in mind that I am the only unmarried attorney at my firm), I chose to be in this kind of environment as opposed to larger firms where your coworkers wouldn't know or care if your mother died, much less if you bought a house or got married or the like.

Back to the situation at hand: I told the partner that was OK, simply because I couldn't think of any other appropriate response. Mr. Partner proceeded to tell me all about "great guy" (hereinafter GG) and again, I was reminded of why I'd rather be set up with someone by a super close friend. I learned all about his extensive education, family, profession, athleticism, and fraternity, but nothing about his faith (until I asked). Fortunately I got his name, and a summer associate was kind enough to research him and draft a memorandum about him. Just kidding. All the Internet search revealed was a photo and a few sports articles where he'd been interviewed as the best friend of a well known athlete.

If the guy calls, I kind of feel like I don't have a choice but to at least meet him. That stinks. Just knowing that I'm going to have handle this extra carefully because GG is good friends with Mr. Partner (who I really like) and that Mr. Partner will be asking about all of this takes the fun out of it. Set ups by friends who really know me = potentially exciting; set ups by people who set me up with someone because we're both single and have good jobs = not exciting (I'd rather be alone or with friends). On the bright side, I always enjoy meeting new people and it's very unusual to meet someone who I can't enjoy for an hour or two. My hope is that if I only like him as a friend he'll feel the same as I do, and we'll never have that weird conversation that's never fun about just being friends (the prospect of that conversation bothers me so much, it makes me not want to date at all). And yes, I realize that perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself, but all of this is why I don't like dating and am not that anxious to jump in with both feet quite yet (especially when it isn't completely voluntary).

On a positive note, I'm going to a dinner party this evening, and I always love these and afterwards wonder why I don't ever have them. I love having interesting and fun friends, especially ones who claim his specialities include rack of lamb and chocolate mousse.

Here I Go Again....

Don’t you love that song by Whitesnake?

I’m back on the dating scene, which I must admit that I have not missed. I’m not that anxious to jump back in as I think it’s probably best to have some down time between relationships (to avoid rebounding if nothing else), but I have a lot of well intentioned friends who feel otherwise and are more than ready to set me up.

But I must admit that I’m not totally adverse to being set up. I met two of the guys that I’ve dated more than a year through blind dates. One was a set up by a friend, and the other was through the scheming of two federal judges (how could I say no?). All I knew going into these dates was the guys’ height, education level, age, etc. A lot has changed since these blind dates.

Namely the Internet, which means that “blind dates” are no longer sight unseen affairs. For example, my friend Jacob has several friends he would like to set me up with (this is no doubt a red flag—what criteria is he using? Single and breathing?), so he sent me their law firm “links” one day. Voila: I knew what they look like, where they earned their J.D., how long they’ve been practicing law, etc.

So tonight a dear friend who really knows me and would never set me up with someone less than solid called to tell me about a guy her best friend (who I’ve met once) wants me to meet. She gave me the rundown on why she and her friend think we would hit it off and what she chose to share about him reminded me of why I should only let close friends who really know me and understand my values and faith set me up on dates. I know, you may be thinking “what’s the harm with going out with someone once?” But I figure why tempt myself by going out with some cute guy (even if he is a partner Jacob) who ultimately doesn’t share my faith, which is easily my most important criteria for any long term relationship potential. And why waste his money and our time? I’d rather just be friends from the get-go. But I digress as usual.

So after sharing this guy’s long list of fantastic qualities, my friend says “Oh, he’s on Myspace.” Jackpot!! After five minutes of searching, I knew that he listened to Voddie Bauchman’s sermon last weekend too (this series is on marriage,so if you're curious as to what you should be looking for in a Godly spouse, e-mail me and I'll send you the link); has a cool song I’d never heard on his profile; loves the Braves, Andy Stanley, and Ronald Reagan (and they want me to meet him?); is super healthy; has no tattoos or gay myspace editing; and likes thunderstorms only when he’s alone on soccer fields (hmm…). I don’t have his social yet to run a background search nor do I know his IQ, but I’ll keep you posted.

Anyway, I may never meet this guy or any of the other guys my other friends are suggesting, but it’s fun (and a bit scary) that I can already know so much about someone I’ve never met. And it kind of makes me think a little about what I post on my profile, and whether googling and myspace and whatnot takes a little fun out of a “blind” date—or perhaps makes it a little more fun by giving you a little harmless background—like what your date’s “political profile” is, his favorite books, and whether he prefers Pepsi or Coke (a Pepsi preference might be an initial deal breaker though).

Morbid Or Just Smart?

I just called my apartment complex to ensure that they run criminal background checks on all of their employees. I read a case about a year ago that prompted me to make the inquiry then, but ownership of my complex has changed since then and a recent murder has made me paranoid. The case I read involved an apartment complex in metro Atlanta that did not require criminal background checks as a condition of employment, and a convicted felon was hired to work in the apartment's maintenance department. He hid in a resident's apartment, and you can imagine what happened.

The most recent murder that I've heard about invovled a member of the church I occasionally attend in Atlanta. Besides the murder in itself being terribly disturbing (and one of the reasons I can't bear to watch the local evening news) and sad, the murder suspect has a criminal history that spans four states and over 25 years. His most recent conviction was for rape and occurred in 1991, and he was released on probation after serving right under ten years. It blows my mind that you could serve less than 20 or 30 years for raping someone especially when four years before that you were found guilty of breaking and entering and a decade before that you were convicted of kidnapping and robbery. I'm sure that if this man is, in fact, found guilty of this murder, this knowledge will only grieve this woman's family even more.

And what thankless tasks our police and district attorneys are faced with when after they work hard to find these criminals and prove the government's case (which can be incredibly hard in rape cases), the convicted criminals are released to harm our society even more after serving minimal sentences. I wonder what it'll take for our states to get serious about punishing those who take away others' right to safety and to be free from violence and the anxiety that we (especially women) experience, knowing the odds of us being a victim of a crime. Just a thought, but I wonder if more women being in the legislature would result in a more serious approach to these kinds of crimes. I'm not sure men can understand what it's like to have to constantly worry about who is in the elevator/stairwell/parking deck, whether you should skip your workout because it's dark, whether you should leave the office because it's late and may not be safe, and the like.