Trekkychick

Dear Readers,

For those of you thinking that Facebook is just another time-sapping vacuum for the proficient procrastinator, think again. Our dear social networking friend is currently being used to identify social trends, the latest being the most common times of year during which people experience a break-up.

London-based author David McCandless compiled and analyzed the annual data from over 10,000 Facebook updates to identify the most common times people end their relationships. And I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty sure he took all of his data from my status updates alone, which singlehandedly span far greater than 10,000 breakups.

McCandless discovered three peak breakup times throughout the year: prior to spring break (of course —- who wants to date somebody in April —- SO restricting), right before the summer holidays begin (obviously —- sharing a sunny day at the beach with your loved one —- SO lame), and several weeks before Christmas (undoubtedly —- if you haven’t been naughty, Santa will bring you everything you need anyway).

You might be wondering just how this information can help you. Well, if you’re half of a couple, and you notice one of these peak break-up times approaching, you can salvage your relationship by cutting off all communication with your partner, thereby obviating the possibility of a breakup. Being that a breakup requires the successful transmission of dire news from one party to the other, shutting down your computer, turning off your cell phone, and avoiding face-to-face interactions with your partner at all costs will ensure the continuation of your solid relationship without interruption. Once the peak break-up time passes, you can turn your phone and computer back on and resume contact with your partner, confident that you’ve avoided danger and that you’ll stay together forever, or until several weeks before Christmas.

And while I’d like to credit myself for deriving this ingenious data-driven plan for relationship success, please remember that I couldn’t have done it without the help of relationship status updates (that crucial component of a breakup that publicizes it for all to see, without which you might forget that you just ended your relationship) from which McCandless derived his statistics. So, thank you Facebook*.

*Facebook: Bringing People Who Shouldn’t Be Together, Together, for Longer Than Necessary.

–Troi out

Dear Readers,

Upon returning home from work today, I was delighted to receive a voice mail from an employee of my beloved* state farm agent inquiring as to whether I was interested in receiving a quote on renter’s insurance or life insurance.

*Yes, the very same state farm agent who last year asked me over the phone whether I was a bad driver, or simply a good driver with bad luck—- to which I responded something to the effect of “I’ll take ‘good driver’ for $200, sir, since that’s what I’m paying monthly to keep this insurance plan”—- but that’s a story for another time, when the tickets have fallen off of my record and I can speak more freely.

It was lovely for my state farm agent to think of me for renter’s insurance, although being that he is in charge of my homeowner’s insurance on the condo that I own, I would, perhaps naively, have hoped he would be privy to the fact that I’m not so much in need of renter’s insurance. And as I agonize over this perplexing voice mail I received eight minutes ago, I’m becoming convinced that perhaps he is privy to something I’m not, such as—-for example—-a massive fault line directly straddled by my Portland condominium, and perhaps my insurance agent has a direct line to God, or to an exceptionally gifted meteorologist who offered him a tip on tonight’s downtown Portland earthquake in exchange for $20 off his car insurance. FOR EXAMPLE.

And don’t even get me started on his proposal that I acquire life insurance, because I’ve already decided not to leave my soon-to-be earthquake–ravaged dwelling lest I get hit by a bus or meteor until I’ve gotten this overzealous employee on the phone to find out exactly from whom he’s getting his information on my impending death, and why nobody mentioned it to me.

I haven’t worked it all out yet, but I’m thinking maybe this fictitious earthquake has something to do with my make-believe death.

Either that, or my beloved state farm insurance agency (I picked them for their awesome jingle, which I use to sing myself to sleep at night, which may have something to do with my recent break-up…?) is going under, and calling everybody with a proffer of quotes on life and renter’s insurance to bolster finances whether or not we live on a giant fault line of death. Either way, it’s best I start looking for a back-up agent. Here’s what I’ve found:

GEICO
Pros: 15 minutes could save me 15% or more on my car insurance.
Cons: I think they’re getting kickbacks from PETA, because they employ lizards instead of real humans.

PROGRESSIVE
Pros: They’re “progressive,” which dictionary.com tells me is “characterized by such progress, or by continuous improvement.” I feel warm and fuzzy and like I’m contributing in some important way to humanity when I choose Progressive.
Cons: I don’t think they’re actually progressive. I think they just want you to feel warm and fuzzy and like you’re contributing in some important way to humanity when you choose Progressive.

ALLSTATE
Pros: They’re available in all states. I assume.
Cons: I wonder if they’re available in Oregon.

Having exhausted myself with the laborious process of researching insurance companies online, I will now ruminate on the various options before making my final decision. Which I will need to make tonight, before the earthquake. And meteor.

–Troi out

The unfortunate thing about breaking up with a guy, when you happen to be a blogger whose best material comes from the very act of breaking up with a guy, is that people are actually pretty excited by your pain. During your immediate post-breakup week (the week in which your average non-blogger solicits sympathy from her dearest friends and family), your proclamations of devastation are met with rejoicing, as demonstrated by the following exchange:

Coworker: How are you?
Troi: Not good! My boyfriend and I just broke up!
Coworker: Awesome! So you’ll be back to writing blogs again soon?

Unsatisfied by this conversational exchange (women need a minimum of 539 painstaking and scrutinizing conversations about a breakup in order to sufficiently work through what happened and move on, whereas men just spit, shoot something, and start dating the next thing that walks by), you determine that you must not look sad enough, and adjust your facial expression accordingly for your next enounter with a friend, family member, or the employee at Starbucks who really regrets having asked you how your day was going even though his manager really stresses the importance of friendly customer service:

Friend: How are you doing?
Troi: [effortfully curving both sides of mouth downward so that sadness cannot possibly be missed, nor be mistaken for the classic one-sided facial drooping indicative of a stroke]: I’m TERRIBLE [emphasizing the adjective for added effect]. My boyfriend and I just broke up. Boy, I sure feel sad! [Inwardly applauding clear communicative intent that will surely result in significant sympathetic response by friend]
Friend: That’s great — now you’ll have some good material for your blog! I’ve missed your posts.

No longer devastated by your breakup, but by the celebratory mood your breakup has kindled in everybody but you, you realize that having pushed so hard to enlist your best friends as avid blog readers (through unscrupulous means, such as subscribing their email addresses to your blog site without their knowledge, but that’s beside the point, right?) may not have been the most savvy move. Because now you’re stuck wading through the breakup aftermath in a very expensive session with your counselor who has thankfully never read your blog, you think, although she did call you trekkychick during that last session.

On the bright side, everybody’s right. He gave you some decent material to work with.

–Troi out

Everybody will try to tell you that the hardest part of a break-up is the crushing devastation you experience when you lose the person to whom you’ve given your heart, and your heart along with it.

Everyone is wrong. Obviously, the real tragedy you’ll encounter is losing his friends, who turn out to be much cooler than he is. Because as delightful as you may be, they’re his friends, and thus their loyalties lie ultimately with him.

My ex-boyfriend had such a devoted entourage that he sent forth one of his minions on a quest to collect a camping chair he’d left at my house following our break-up. Never mind that his minion neglected to bring as collateral the items I’d left at his place, including a pristine stainless steel wine bottle stopper, the loss of which has devastated my attempts to split the consumption of a Ninkasi 22oz Believer ale into two evenings of indulgence. As I hurled the camping chair at the minion’s head gently handed over the camping chair to my ex’s loyal friend, we exchanged expletives pleasantries regarding the recent disintegration of my relationship.

Minion: I heard from a friend of your ex’s first cousin’s neighbor’s sister that you’ve been in contact with [name to be withheld for confidentiality]. You realize that [name to be withheld for confidentiality] was friends with [ex whose name not worth mentioning] first and thus he retains sole custody of friendship in the event of your break-up, which occurred yesterday at 2:00am PST at your place of residence.

Me: It’s true that I have been in contact with [name to be withheld for confidentiality] but I assure you I obtained prior permission for said contact from [ex whose name I've forgotten]. And while it’s true that [ex] and I may have briefly exchanged the requisite post-traumatic 24-hour period of grossly virulent emails, we are now on sufficiently amicable terms to allow continued contact with mutual friends.

Minion: I was unaware of cordial relations and remain skeptical that a treaty has been reached so soon after battle. I will consult [ex] and if it is determined that you speak the truth, I will begrudgingly allow continued contact with mutual friends. It will be noted in the post-breakup paperwork that these friendships belonged first to [ex] and thus [ex] may revoke your cavorting privileges with said friends at any time. Now kindly remove this camping chair from my head so I may take my leave.

And so it came to pass that at the culmination of our failed relationship, I was given the green light to maintain friendships with his friends, for which I was truly appreciative.

It is not always the case, however, that an ex will so generously invite you to remain included in his circle of friends. Moreover, there are those cases in which remaining within the circle of friends creates a false sense of hope, for one or both parties, of impending reconciliation. There is generally a legitimate reason for a break-up, a reason which can become easily clouded if 48 hours later you’re immersed in the same circle with the same ex, possessing the same feelings you held just 48 hours earlier.

So don’t immediately plunge into the same circle, no matter how comfortable and familiar it may feel. This advice is easiest to swallow if you’ve maintained your other friendships. Letting his friends become your primary friend group is like betting your life savings on a hand of poker before seeing your cards. You’re going to need that twenty dollars someday, and you’re going to need the friends to whom you can freely and privately bash your ex share your sad feelings about your recently imploded relationship.

For more break-up advice, act now and purchase Troi’s helpful handbook, “Breaking Up Is Not Hard To Do, But Staying Together Sure Is,” and receive tips on the latest break-up technologies, including via instant messenger, text message, and even by cleverly downloading a break-up song onto his iPod! Breaking up has never been so easy!

–Troi out

for a limited time only, more available than your average man

But a good beer is comparatively easy to find, especially if you live in Portland, which boasts more breweries per capita than any other city in the United States. So while you may not find the perfect man, the perfect craft beer may still be within reach.

If you’re wondering what makes a craft beer crafty, let me assure you that it has nothing to do with arts and crafts, which is quite a relief for someone such as myself whose 7th-grade arts & crafts teacher told the class my self-portrait looked like an alien (I thought it was a compliment—-I love science fiction—-until she flunked me), nor is a craft beer the kind of beer you drink to get over the trauma of being called an alien by your 7th grade arts & crafts teacher. Rather, a craft brewer is small (producing less than 2 million barrels of beer annually) and independent. And while 2 million barrels may not sound small to the last person who tried drinking 2 million barrels of beer, it is nonetheless relatively small when compared to a craftless beer corporation such as Anheuser-Busch, whose production well exceeds 100 million barrels annually. Most importantly, craft beers can be absolutely delicious, whereas I bet you’ve never heard someone say, while sipping on an Anheuser-Busch creation, “Oh, this Bud Light is absolutely delicious!” unless he was in a Superbowl commercial.

If you’ve yet to try it, my first suggestion is Sierra Nevada’s Summerfest lager. For those of you not familiar with Sierra Nevada’s beers, their most popular standard brew is probably their pale ale, and their winter offering, Celebration Ale, is definitely worth the celebration. Even their stout is far and away the best stout in a bottle I’ve yet to try. Their Summerfest lager is light (5.0 ABV) and hoppy without being overpoweringly so. I’m not typically a huge lager fan (I’ve heard they cut down trees), but this is a lager that appeals even to environmentally-friendly darker beer lovers such as myself.

If clearing forests isn’t your style, another craft beer to write home about (for me, I guess that would be the alien home planet from which my arts & crafts teacher thinks I sprouted) is Deschutes brewery’s 2010 Once a Decade Ale, which is more like Nine Times a Decade Ale for me when I add up the number of bottles I’ve purchased over the last few months. Vaguely reminiscent of a barleywine-style ale but without that sickeningly sweet finish, the Once a Decade Ale (also known as Jubel 2010) is 10% ABV, aged in oak pinot barrels, and is my favorite craft find of the year. And much like finding a good boyfriend, you won’t find another beer quite like it for at least a decade, so stock up on a few before they’re gone for good and break one open every couple of years to temper the dry spell. Speaking of opening your beer, the biggest trick to the Once a Decade Ale is its wax-dipped cap, which can be troublesome to open. I began with more conventional methods such as using a standard bottle opener. But when mainstream methods failed me, I panicked and resorted to biting, clawing, stabbing, and coaxing, while my roommate finally found success melting down the wax with a lighter. However, I’ve since seen effortless cap removals with your tried and true average bottle opener, so perhaps it was just me. It usually is.

So while choosing the right boy may be challenging, choosing the right craft beer is entirely possible—-if you’re fortunate enough to call Portland home.

–Troi out