tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85359187476493871212024-03-05T04:46:49.767-05:00Be Where You AreBy popular demand- my smartass online. All the time.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-66957462458765604882015-06-24T17:00:00.003-04:002015-06-24T17:00:48.300-04:00Facebook--The Limp, Smelly, "Special" Puppy that Pees All Over Your CarpetI'm sure I've bitched about social media before but before I unleashed a status that I'm sure will warrant some unfriending, I thought I'd write something with <i>context</i>.<br />
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You know that stereotype of the unfortunate puppy? That puppy at the shelter that is skittish, has an inexplicable water-and-cleaner resistant odor, missing half it's hair, isn't so bright, and is a little jacked in the face that you take home, thinking it will be like a 90s date movie where the girl pulls off her glasses/you give the puppy some TLC makes the girl/puppy happy and attractive but all it does is continually pee and puke all over your carpet, 6 inches away from the tile?<br />
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That, to me, is Facebook.<br />
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I really want to like Facebook and stick with it but, my.god., I cannot help but feel exhausted and/or frustrated 95% of the time.<br />
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Before I continue, I want to clarify that I'm not specifically calling out anyone. It's rare that I follow one person's profile intensely (when I do, it's because they just got married and I want to see ALL the wedding photos--so I creep on you hardcore, just fyi). I mostly scroll the newsfeed and get a composite profile of all my friends.<br />
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From this, my friends are highly educated, very angry and active, feminists with the occasional really conservative Christian viewpoint.<br />
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<i>Can we have a moment to acknowledge the struggle of ironic posts and titles? Because when you have a blend of social and political standpoints displayed as you're quickly scrolling through "news", I frequently miss that your piece is a satire. I genuinely thought you were a racist/sexist dick.</i><br />
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Before you start mumbling how I could unfriend people, I KNOW. I DON'T WANT TO. I like the posts of two former classmates adventures raising chickens. I'm deeply concerned for a friend I don't see often enough and her struggle with Lymes (it's tick season, people, be careful!). A friend from middle school goes on the wildest trips and I sit here brewing in love and hate/jealousy over the stunning pictures. A friend of my partners has hilarious posts.<br />
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I don't want to unfriend people. I don't want to unfollow them. I don't want to miss out on what's going on in their lives--did they get engaged/married (because I'm creeping the SHIT out of those photos)? Did a pet or loved one pass? Are they having a rough time and I need to sincerely make an effort to contact them? Did they move some place cool or start a new job?<br />
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This is 85-90% (depends on my mood) of what I want to use Facebook for.<br />
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5-10% of the time, I want funny animal videos, awesome graphs on how to make healthy smoothies, and funny statuses on crazy things that happen during your day.<br />
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0-5% of the time, I want political, well-written, opinion pieces on what's going on in the world.<br />
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And as I am friends with a plethora of wonderful, well-educated people, content percentages are the opposite--85-90% of my feed are opinion pieces, 5-10% are funny things, 0-5% are life changes.<br />
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For example, in the last 4 hours people have posted about the following:<br />
-selfie (nothing unique)<br />
-the systematic ignoring of Black issues<br />
-cat photo<br />
-the unfortunate appearance of creationism (at the expense of evolution) in education<br />
-yet another "unbelievable" a cappella cover of "Let It Go"<br />
-yet another "unbelievable" a cappella cover of "Cups"<br />
-yet another "unbelievable" a cappella... I believe it. People can sing better than me. Not like that bar is very high<br />
-public pools urine content (gross)<br />
-cat photo<br />
-comparisons of the Confederate flag to the Nazi flag<br />
-comparisons of the Confederate flag to the Pride flag<br />
-will Jon Snow come back to Game of Thrones (he won't, let it go)?<br />
-condoms that change color in contact with STIs<br />
-the social implications of a condom that changes color in contact with STIs<br />
-selfie (nothing unique) <br />
-what happens when you're drunk<br />
-sex education expansion in certain states<br />
-sex education reduction in certain states<br />
-you "won't believe" how this dog takes care of this cat<br />
-you "won't believe" how this lion remembers its human owner<br />
-you "won't believe"... again, I believe it. Trans-species relationships have been a things since this time called forever<br />
-people for Bernie Sanders<br />
-people for Hilary Clinton<br />
-people against Donald Trump<br />
-cat photo<br />
-people raising awareness for rape culture<br />
-selfie (in a historical location) <br />
-the Charleston shootings<br />
-the racial implications of the Charleston shootings<br />
-superhero corgi cookies<br />
-Philadelphia parking nightmares<br />
-selfie (nothing unique) <br />
-Malcolm X quotes<br />
-Martin Luther King, Jr. quotes<br />
-other random inspirational quotes from famous people of color<br />
-why White people should never post quotes from people of color<br />
-dog photo<br />
-supporting the relentlessly gay fund<br />
-arguing that the relentlessly gay fund was a hoax<br />
-hoaxes inspired by the relentlessly gay fund<br />
-20 child photos<br />
-Caps opener is October 10th at the Devils (boooo Devils!)<br />
-cat photo<br />
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By the time I get to the article about how Inside Out is another example of how Pixar encourages children to insult people with intellectual disabilities by having characters call each other "moron", "idiot", "mongo", and the like, I have run out of fucks to give.<br />
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Which is a shame, because the article has a valid concern.<br />
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And I've seen people post "If you don't give a shit about x, just unfriend me." I do give a shit about x! I want to hear your opinion about it! I want to know about the topics you are passionate
about; that's why we're Facebook friends. I really do want your opinion
on what is a good piece about a given subject. I just cannot muster the
empathy proportionate to my newsfeed. You may only post one or two opinion pieces a day but my composite Facebook friend posts A LOT. CONSTANTLY.<br />
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I just really want Facebook to have filters--one of people's "life events", another of "interests and funny things", and a final for "opinions--sometimes, frequently, controversial". When I'm in a good place to hear out your thoughts, I can click on the appropriate filter without becoming numbed and overwhelmed with 60+ people's passions.<br />
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I would also like to acknowledge that this post has contributed nothing to people's understanding of what is going on in my life.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-59262737505746913152015-01-04T00:48:00.002-05:002015-01-04T00:48:38.245-05:002015 GoalsThis year, I'm going to do 52 week-long crash courses on new habits, skills, and goals. Because, let's face it, any resolutions I could make will fail immediately. So I think, aim for the short-term and enjoy the experience and hopefully some things turn into new habits.<br />
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Here's the list. Don't judge me on some things.<br />
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1. learn about cars<br />
2. get involved in CARAS<br />
3. create a class<br />
4. wear heels for 14 hours total<br />
5. get involved in SSSS<br />
6. cook through recipes<br />
7. treat yo'self!<br />
8. sell some stuff<br />
9. create therapy forms<br />
10. get involved in Girl Scouts<br />
11. change jewelry daily<br />
12. make crafts<br />
13. read articles<br />
14. brush teeth twice a day (as opposed to twice a day MOST days)<br />
15. increase vocabulary<br />
16. study for comps<br />
17. read daily<br />
18. play pool daily<br />
19. finish a book<br />
20. wear makeup daily<br />
21. create therapy handouts<br />
22. learn to sew<br />
23. sort baskets<br />
24. make a piece of furniture<br />
25. go on a trip<br />
26. get involved in AAMFT<br />
27. create and stick to a budget<br />
28. put on lotion 4 times<br />
29. waist train 4 times<br />
30. learn to play drums<br />
31. take a Coursera course<br />
32. meet step goals everyday<br />
33. therapy research<br />
34. cut back on sodium<br />
35. empieza a aprender Español<br />
36. research journals<br />
37. scrapbook 4 pages<br />
38. get re-certified in archery<br />
39. get rid of stuff<br />
40. teaching jobs<br />
41. drink required amount of water<br />
42. cut back on sugar<br />
43. lernen sie Deutsch<br />
44. eat exact calories<br />
45. execute perfect social media<br />
46. learn marketing/small business<br />
47. got to the gym 6 times<br />
48. be more positive<br />
49. learn statistics<br />
50. execute good sleep habits<br />
51. network and reconnect<br />
52. create goals for 2015<br />
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Boom. One down.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-86484775663208359032014-08-11T16:57:00.003-04:002014-08-11T17:27:27.374-04:00Food ChatBefore we dive right into this, I have to warn everyone, I'll be talking about you. My friends. My family. Acquaintances. People I don't care for very much. Everyone.<br />
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This week has been filled with lots of examples of talking about food and health. I think it's because most of us do not get proper education on nutrition things tend to go off-script, get ambiguous, and become super-subjective super-fast.<br />
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So I'll warn everyone, all of these posts are MY ventures into healthier processes as I define them. I have zero proper education on it, nor am I really interested in getting proper education. Like the message in my last post, <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2014/08/true-confessions-im-addicted-to-food.html" target="_blank">food is tedious</a>. I'm sure an education in food and health may cause me to grow a tail, breathe fire and smash all the villages.<br />
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But here's a fast question--why aren't we teaching about nutrition? I was having a conversation with one of my friends about the healthcare system and I tried to make the point that "good" healthcare and "health" are very subjective but the only examples I could come up with at the time were "ViagraViagraViagraAbortionViagraViagraABORTIONViagra". I ended up saying I didn't have an example because I try hard (GET IT?! Viagra? Hard? Ok... sorry) to not become the one-trick pony that is sexuality but I'm getting 2 degrees in human sexuality...<br />
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... so it's hard.<br />
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ANYWAY! I should've come up with nutrition and health. It's so subjective and ... subject?... huh... subject to change with the times. Regardless, I feel like food health should be taught in grade school and should really cross the... subjects... like you would talk about the molecular structure of protein and anatomy in biology; how to calculate calories and convert between 50 measurements of food in math; how culture and people talk about health in English; learn cooking vocabulary in Spanish... but cross all areas of learning so that students have complete and practical comprehension of nutrition--not bullshit that you never use and therefore forget by the time you're an adult (I'm looking at you, Are you Smarter Than a 5th Grader?).<br />
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subject.<br />
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So anyway, back to me. This week there were also the social venues when (usually the women) band together to talk about how they ran 50 miles today and then they ate blahblahblah. My wonderful friends are athletes. I am, what the French would call, not. The most energy-consuming and coordinated thing I do these days is precariously balance food on dishes/bowls/napkins/hands/llamas down the stairs, to the couch, and while turning on my TV, my DVD player, and grabbing remotes. It's a delicate but majestic process, worthy of Cirque de Soliel, as soon as they become cool with cursing. But as a non-athletic person, when my dear friends start talking about running, I immediately start to think of all the chips I enjoy and how if I had a brownie for every time my friends talked about diets and running...<br />
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... I'd be a diabetic.<br />
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And it's not just my overly-patient friends, it's others (like my grandmother's neighbor this weekend) too, forcing me into a dialogue about my health which almost ALWAYS comes from a place of knowing more/being better than me. I helped my grandmother move out of rehabilitation this weekend and as we're eating lunch at her home, her neighbor came in to check on my grandmother's recovery from hip surgery. I knew the process was going to take all day so I PACKED ALL MY FOOD. I mean I packed snacks, my lunch, my breakfast. I did it. I showed a level of commitment for this eating healthier thing I have never shown before.<br />
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I'm pretty amped about it.<br />
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My lunch was a <a href="http://www.adventuresinmindfulliving.com/healthy-smoothies-busy-person/" target="_blank">new smoothie concoction</a> that I had tried the day before with revolting results. I decided to try the combination again because it was high in fiber, high in protein but removed the high vom-factor of protein powder. The fact that people can eat that powdery crap is proof of Darwin's theory--healthy people have a genetic mutation that eliminates taste and food texture sensitivities so that they can power through rancid but healthy things and live longer than all the rest of us who have working taste buds. My grandmother and aunt had just finished giving me shit when the neighbor walked in. Yes, I had my smoothie in a basket-pattern Mason jar. It was all that there was available in the house besides baby food jars. And yes, the result looked like I had taken a pipe wrench to the underside of the sink and filled said basket jar with the garbage disposal contents. And yes, it sort of tasted like that but in a sweet and tolerable (note: not delicious) form. But the neighbor walks in and immediately inquires about this fanciful basket jar sludge I was ingesting through a smile that looked like I was REALLY trying not to regret my healthier decisions.<br />
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I have quickly learned that people will always ask what's in your smoothie. It makes me think of this CSI episode where this one nutritionist was making human blood/organ powder smoothies (talk about subjective health and nutrition...) because she had <a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/shadow-boxing/201211/vampire-personality-disorder" target="_blank">Renfield's Syndrome</a> or at least claimed that she did. How the hell did this woman go for years eating people without being bothered to list her smoothie secrets?! Anyway, most of the time people genuinely don't care what's in your smoothie. It's almost like this compulsion to reduce ambiguity. You could say that there's panda tears, bamboo stalks, and soy sauce in it and it's called the "Karma Express" and has been known by the Asian Chinese for years to center your chi... or something. It doesn't have to make sense--karma is part of Hindu traditions, most commonly associated with Indian culture and chi is from Buddhism--no one notices. It doesn't matter most of the time. But every other time (like this one with the neighbor), they <i>do</i> care and want to know what you dared to put in your blender. Mainly for the purpose of judging it.<br />
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And, ok, that's a negative way to look at it. But their response does come from this place of feeling they know better about smoothie experiences. I listed my ingredients and woefully ended with "It all sounds good but combined... the taste? Not so much." There was no request for recipes, no suggestions for improvements, just stating the facts. I. don't. like. this. But I had to be polite and listen through a smoothie recipe the neighbor <i>swore</i> by (swore what? Who knows. I don't care.). When the first ingredient was kale I tried to say, "I cannot stand kale. Someone" playful glare towards my grandmother "who may or may not be at this table totally scarred me for life with kale. I think it tastes bitter."<br />
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"Oh you don't taste it! Spinach is the one with the bitter taste!"<br />
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... sigh...<br />
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Let me go and think about the chips I like and about how if I had a brownie for every time I expressed my opinion and received a response that acted like the total opposite was <i>fact</i>, I would be a diabetic.<br />
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Let me also say that I totally judge too. Actually, judging is where I AM an athlete. Jump to a judge in a single bound, I do. And I judge the shit out of other people's food choices. Today my mom told me that my dad has high blood sugar so he has chosen to cut out his snack peanut butter crackers but not his pudding or Little Debbie's treats... look me in the eye and tell me you don't judge the shit out of that food choice. I'm training my mind to think in sugar grams and sodium milligrams. It's to help myself. So I get it, Mimi's neighbor, my friends, healthy-minded people--you train your mind to think healthy and it's <i>hard</i> to remember that not everyone is programmed that way. Just like my mind has formed a distinct sex-<i>subjects</i> funnel, it doesn't mean that there isn't more to the world.<br />
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There's also more images in this world than this ridiculous dog. But it's funny and I'm lazy.<br />
<br />Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-31903857983047419582014-08-07T18:05:00.001-04:002014-08-07T18:05:30.505-04:00True Confessions: I'm Addicted to Food<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQ6NKgpKe2jToqsGadpzjVulHzCTH05sk-Ojkvyao1IW0uK9rfIe7JEYegKasnUdcuLbMAbXpTthx32JjYzv2utQTX7Pel97nkJjiaxdIQ8ewd-ZWd6scaURCnAFO1w-twlzonciifF0/s1600/FoodAndExercise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQ6NKgpKe2jToqsGadpzjVulHzCTH05sk-Ojkvyao1IW0uK9rfIe7JEYegKasnUdcuLbMAbXpTthx32JjYzv2utQTX7Pel97nkJjiaxdIQ8ewd-ZWd6scaURCnAFO1w-twlzonciifF0/s1600/FoodAndExercise.jpg" height="270" width="320" /></a></div>
So, I keep seeing this meme pop up online. At first, this image yielded my typical responses--"Huh, interesting"--and afterward, "Oh, please, shut up".<br />
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Now, I'll admit that exercise was at least somewhat effective for depressive symptoms. At my exercise peak, I had the energy to do a lot more than usual... once I found the motivation (which exercise did NOT cure thankyouverymuch).<br />
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I will also admit, my life does revolve around food. There's been *cough* several times when I go to meet with someone, particularly my boyfriend, and they want to go to a store or something and I respond with, "Yea! That sounds great! After food though. Right? Right. Food."<br />
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There was zero shame to my game.<br />
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But here, in <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2014/07/most-of-my-emotions-are-pop-culture.html" target="_blank">part 2</a> of chronicling my healthier habits, there is all the shame, and frustration, and anxiety, and depression. My life still revolves around food but it's in the most tedious and unpleasant fashion.<br />
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I've been using the <a href="http://www.myfitnesspal.com/" target="_blank">myfitnesspal</a> application on my phone to keep track of how much food I'm consuming, my nutrition, exercise, and water intake. For the most part, the app has been great except it it not as intuitive for daily life.<br />
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Like, for example, the app has "chewing" as an exercise. But there's no exercise for "Rampaging in DC traffic"<br />
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Another example, you can log calories burned from being on the elliptical and other cardio machines but it doesn't say that doing cardio, then planks, then squats, then a wall sit, then multiple sets on multiple leg machines, then lunges with weights burns calories. It doesn't even matter that you got halfway down the gym stairs to leave, wanted to sit at the landing and lament like Andy from The Office, "Oh, I could just sit here and cry"<br />
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I've maybe been watching a lot of The Office... I'm sure nobody could tell.<br />
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I'm able to get over this issue because it exaggerates the number of calories I burned on the elliptical-- "Oh, training for 25 minutes equals 300 calories? The machine told me 230 but OK!"<br />
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It's mainly the food. I figured out months ago, when I downloaded the app, that I have ZERO judge on the size and serving of food. I've had a chai latte practically every morning for the last... yikes, 7 1/2 years... wow. I'm coming up on a chai-aversary in a few years... Anyway! I knew that the habit wasn't GREAT for me but, hey, it wasn't coffee and I had moved myself down from 2% milk down to skim milk (which is essentially white and water), so it couldn't be that bad. Right? Let's see, I'm supposed to have a 300-400 calorie breakfast and chai is 70 calories for every 1/2 cup. "That shouldn't be too bad!" I pour my typical amount of chai concentrate into my mug and then pour it into a measuring cup... there goes 1/2 a cup... and 3/4... and now I've run out of lines... "You know what, fuck this!" I turned off the app and glared at phone for the rest of day for what it did.<br />
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I wasn't ready to quit my chai. I wasn't ready to start chronicling my every calorie because I knew it would be fraught with disappointment and bitter surprise, sometimes horror. I wasn't even ready to say "Ok, let's start working our way down to 1/2 cup of chai with half cup of milk. That's totally doable."<br />
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I figured out I had to do the leg work first--guilt-tripping yourself out of eating a food is so much easier when you're not craving it. <i>I created a list of snack foods and appropriate meals</i>. While typing this sentence took 2 seconds, I promise you getting to where I was last week when I finally pulled the trigger on this plan took, arguably, 2 years.<br />
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Now, here's another moment where I'll admit that my obsessiveness did not help. I bought a ricemaker thinking "rice is healthy and I love it. I will forever eat rice". But, as karma demands it, no, white rice is just as terrible as white bread. Because it's not just about getting a food low in fat or calories, it's about the sodium and cholesterol content if your family has a history of heart disease (*swish* count it!) or sugar if your family has a history of diabetes (*swishswish* COUNT IT!).<br />
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You doubt everything you buy. Nothing is good for you. And after spending 5 minutes debating every purchase in the grocery store only to get to the bottom of the nutrition facts and find out the product is riddled with fake sugars and processed evil mystery preservative (anddd family history of cancer for the hat trick *swishswishswish*).<br />
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Here's the moment when I would reuse The Office Andy "I can too just sit here and cry" picture.<br />
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I will never be safe until I build a biodome.<br />
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In case this existential crisis wasn't clusterfucked enough, enter life, stage right. My grandmother recently broke her hip and due to what seems like some true-life-based Saw movie, I've been visiting her in the rehabilitation facility at least 3 times a week. Day 2 of my healthier venture, I agreed to go to a meeting to talk about her upcoming discharge (thank godbuddahallah).<br />
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<b>9am:</b> I had my healthy breakfast, I'm good to go!<br />
<b>11am (mid-meeting):</b> CRAP! It's time to eat again? But I forgot to bring a pre-packaged 150 calorie snack. Oh well. I'm not hungry because I had an awesome healthy breakfast.<br />
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*somewhere in here my mom volunteers me to stay with Mimi for another 2 hours which then turned into me doing her laundry and returning it to rehab for another 4 hours*<br />
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2pm: OMG I DIDN'T BRING A 400-500 CALORIE LUNCH! I'M STARVED!!!<br />
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And what do you do when you're counting calories and need lunch? You sure as shit don't go to a restaurant because you won't be able to log it in! So I got a chicken salad sandwich from Harris Teeter. No nutrition facts. SHOULD HAVE SCANNED IT IN THE STORE. But I didn't. I went back to Mimi's to listen to the hum of the dryer and ate my sandwich containing 500+ mg of sodium.<br />
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And that all was just one day. Most of the days this week have included some panic to get "healthy" looking food only to eat it and then become pissed and/or disappointed. Today I was back at Mimi's and wanted a burger from this place down the road. It's a very hipster place that totes it's killing of happy cows who were frolicking locally before being lured into the barn with an axe. The dairy cows, if capable of frolicking, are also in said local fields produced cheese for the meat products of their angus brethren. Even the veggies placed on top of this local feast was grown on the same lands, just out of cow-reach. As a proud meat-eating redneck, this makes me very happy. But as an chicken-eating soulless creature trying to eat healthier, I dragged myself into a sandwich chain store and ordered what I thought was a lean turkey sandwich but turned out to be dehydrated, thinly-sliced, shredded lettuce-topped mess.<br />
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Side note-- why the hell is deli-thin slice a thing? You can barely taste anything that's thinly sliced. "Oh, you know what really brings out the flavor of that cake? Slicing it into slivers so you can eat 4 of them just to get the same amount you normally would."... said no one ever. <br />
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I'm now leaving my house wondering about when I'm going to eat next, what will I eat, what will I eat after that to compensate. Nothing about the unhealthy eating habits have seemed to change, but, arguably, have gotten worse. It's depressing.<br />
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I'll close with this: leaving a bag of grapes on the counter is dangerous.<br />
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What is the serving size equivalent to "I went to the bag and just started shoving them into my face"?Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-66731286762610635362014-07-30T11:03:00.003-04:002014-07-30T11:18:42.773-04:00Most of My Emotions are Pop Culture ReferencesFirst blog post of the new year! In August! That's some horrible record, I'm sure.<br />
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Today's inspiration for a post has been brought to you by healthier eating.<br />
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That's right, <i>healthier</i>, not <i>healthy</i>. I could go on with a long speech how there's always room for improvement and in my efforts, I don't want to become some health snob but let's be real...<br />
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... food is fucking delicious.<br />
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And the healthier eating is coming with healthier habits. Yes, healthier, not healthy because working out is not fucking delicious.<br />
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I stand corrected...<br />
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Anyway, I finally woke up early enough to get started on a healthier regimen that I came up with *cough* several months ago. This morning we will be walking through how well that went.<br />
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<b>Ideal: Wake up at 8am.</b><br />
Reality: Woke up at 7:58 am. Thanks to a text from mom. The last thing I remember from my dream was yelling at Diane Sawyer to "Stop petting that dead beaver!" I have been having some seriously whack-a-doo dreams lately and while they could be their own blogpost, I remember how when I read about people's dreams on Facebook, I think, "Good god, no one cares."<br />
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<b>Ideal: Get up, drink 8 oz. of lemon water and take a 20 minute walk.</b><br />
Reality: This was delayed due to playing Simpson's Tapped Out on my phone. Shut up. It's important.<b> </b>BUT I did mosey upstairs, slice my lemon up for the week, and mosey back down to take my laps around the pool table. Online it says to go outside and enjoy the sunshine. No. There's no "enjoy" outside for an introvert or someone who plans to spend the day in their sleep clothes at 8:30am. I also thought that taking laps around my house meant I could check email safely without wandering into traffic.<br />
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Here's where the learning curve starts:<br />
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---Fact: lemon water makes me gag.<br />
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It's just lemon and water. It's supposed to jump-start your metabolism or some crap without all the calories and sugar and such of coffee or chai tea lattes. So, I didn't check my email. I instead asked the Internet why I was gulping down liquid death bile while doing the Indy 500 in my boxers. Luckily, I only had 2 emails, one from Barnes & Noble and one from Kim Kardashian trying to get me to buy her shoes (I did it once and they are hot as shit but she hasn't backed off since)--fast delete.<br />
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<b>Ideal: At 8:30am, prepare and eat breakfast.</b><br />
Reality: At 9am, I grabbed the materials I needed and thought, "Let me take a glance at my berries and make sure they're still ok... oh no! The blackberries are molded! At least the rasp- NOOOOOO!!!"<br />
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---Fact: I know my berries are local because it's humanly impossible to keep them from not turning into mold instantaneously.<br />
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But, hey, the blueberries were ok which is great news as they are my least favorite berry.<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hooray</span>.</span> I can just throw them in with the <a href="http://www.fitsugar.com/Recipe-Oatmeal-Pancakes-9277040" target="_blank">one-person healthy oatmeal pancake</a> I was making. I tried to soothe my berry anguish by thinking back on the scene from Prison Break when Dominic Purcell asks his son if he wants a little or a big handful of blueberries in his pancakes.<br />
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... could I have a big handful, Dominic Purcell? How about two big handfuls?<br />
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I miss the hell out of Prison Break. I still get incredibly upset at Fox when I think about how they killed off Wentworth Miller. Honestly, you were already killing the show, did you have to kill the hero too?! Butt weasels...<br />
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---Fact: Healthy eating and, thus, healthy cooking is only for morning people.<br />
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I ran into the pool table while walking around it 60 times. Ok, that was inevitable. But I got upstairs and dropped everything--blueberries,<br />
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---Fact: Blueberries are small and round so when you drop one, you actually drop 5 and they will all roll under the oven or into a lint/hair ball that collected in the corner 5 seconds before you dropped said berries like berry magnets.<br />
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bananas, cinnamon, a knife... I went to put away the cinnamon and somehow knocked over every spice in the spice rack. I always sniff-test milk before I pour it in food (even though I use it every morning for chai) and I ran the jug into my face. HOW DO YOU RUN A GALLON JUG INTO YOUR FACE?!... SOBER?!<br />
So, I had made the recipe before and I maybe got too cocky and forgot to put water in the batter.<br />
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---Fact: If someone is cooking, don't bother to ask "What's burning?" We all know what's burning.<br />
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"Oh, you know, it's my clothes because I decided to go to burning man for a hot second while cooking pancakes." I don't even know if they burn things at burning man.<br />
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---Fact: Maybe it IS best to start healthier eating in the morning.<br />
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You'll be too asleep to gag on burned pancake. Or maybe your gag reflex will be minimal after gagging on lemon water. Either way, right before your last bite, you'll realize you are Homer Simpson's yearbook photo.<br />
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I can't believe I ate the whole thing. Every. burnt. bite.<br />
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<b>Ideal: At 9am, start reading professional books in 25 minute increments followed by 5 minutes of stupid Pinterest workouts (like squats and wall sits) using the Pomodoro timer.</b><br />
Reality: Fuck all of that. I'm writing a blogpost.<br />
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I wanted to write at the very least a blogpost every 5 days during the first month of my healthier eating campaign. I knew it would be filled with classic moments like this which would be riddled with "fuck this." The goal is to eat healthier but real pressure is currently for a Halloween costume idea I have for this year. I usually get lazy in the homestretch of Halloween and come up with something rather lackluster so I'm desperately trying to hold onto this grand idea I have. Maybe now it's time for gym? I can go fantasize about Joseph Gordon Levitt, Dominic Purcell, and Wentworth Miller.<br />
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... and my boyfriend... of course... mostly my boyfriend...<br />
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This August, everything's coming up Milhouse!<br />
<br />Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-70311259112841239972013-11-18T00:52:00.000-05:002013-11-18T00:52:14.399-05:00What I Learned At School TodayThis may be a recycled title but I don't know if you've noticed, I'm not creative. Sooo... yea... that's the title.<br />
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In the last couple years, I've become disappointed by my movie watching habits. I remember a plethora of days when I would come home and watch Rob Zombie's Halloween for the umpteenth time or even Ravenous-- RAVENOUS! The movie that ACTUALLY made me, ME, not eat meat for two days.<br />
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Totally random note: if anyone is looking for a movie with the most random soundtrack ever created and doesn't mind an intense amount of gore surrounding cannibalism and a bastardization of the Native American windigo story, check out Ravenous. You unfortunately see Robert Carlyle's butt and even more unfortunately, you don't see Guy Pearce's butt. However, there's a dramatic scene where the cannibal is chasing a bunch of soldiers in the woods which is... embellished?... by polka music. Folk polka. The director in the commentary said they wanted it to mimic a heart racing... um, ok, sure.<br />
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Anyway, in the last year or so, that hasn't been the case-- I come home and watch normal people TV and now that I have cable on my personal TV (biggest mistake ever), I've been watching things like "Bridesmaids" and "50/50". Ok, 50/50 is friggin' awesome; it's funny but makes you think about life. I already gave a play-by-play on Ravenous which is not that epic so I'll refrain from doing it again even though 50/50 is much more deserving. But Bridesmaids? That shit was ridiculous. And terrible. It made me want to Falcon Punch every woman I know and even slap the women I really like (like my best friends) just for good measure. And what happened to the main male role in chick flicks being hot? We used to have Cary freakin' Grant on the big screen and now it's that dude that I know I've seen in a couple films but he's not remotely interesting physically or personality-wise so I haven't really bothered to remember his name... you know, that dude.<br />
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Faith has been restored to my movie selection-- chick flicks are still terrible. And I should give myself even more credit because back in April, I had a friend tell me how the new "Evil Dead" movie was <i>actually</i> good. But everyone says that with horror films, I wasn't convinced... until she uttered the words, "The tree-rape scene was REALLY convincing." Tree rape?! Well that's different. Sold. So, go figure, when I got cable on my personal TV a month ago, the first thing I found was the Evil Dead and I started watching it.<br />
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This segues into the actual goal of my post: many people have asked me what type of stuff I learn in my human sexuality program. This semester I took a course on human reproductive biology and it is the icing on the "education will suck the fun out of activities you used to enjoy like horror movies" cake.<br />
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So, I missed the first few minutes of the movie (if someone could explain what the fuck the necklace in the end was about, that'd be great) but you come in on a mostly White bunch in the woods that have found some shit that is CLEARLY creepy and, obviously, start messing with it. This is where I start pondering how privilege allows White people from suburbia do the stupidest shit. Anybody that comes from a cultural place where you have to be concerned about your safety would never be messing with that shit.<br />
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But ok, one goob of the bunch finds a book with a bunch of Latin in it (which later in the movie has random phrases in English sprinkled throughout the pages, which makes ZERO sense) and he starts to read it... aloud. And on the first try, pronounces everything correctly enough to summon demons and shit. Now, in bio, I had to constantly refer to "y-aminobutyric acid", "17-hydroxypregnenolone," and, my favorite, "dehydroepiandrosterone sulphate". I still cannot pronounce these things unless I talk like I was kicked in the head by horse-- how the hell do people in horror movies magically pronounce this crap right to summon spirits. Oh and they just happen to know what the Latin means. Yes, because a) the American school system is that stellar everyone knows Latin b) kids always choose learning Latin over Spanish or French and c) Latin is spoken all the time, everywhere.<br />
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But ok, spirits are summoned and now they are going to enter this one chick in a very non-consensual manner, disappearing inside of the poor girl. Here's where my mind trails off to where does that part of the tree go? OMG, IT GOES WHERE THE SPERM GOES!!!<br />
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There's a story to this response-- when we were studying the female anatomy we reviewed how the Fallopian tubes/oviducts are not actually connected to the ovary, the edges just sort of open to the ovary, waiting to receive ovum. We continued on to sexual response and such where we talked about how the normal fertile range of ejaculate contains millions of sperm. It swims up the vagina, through the cervix, across the uterus, down the Fallopian tubes in a very survivor fashion. And since sperm is from dudes where they don't ask for directions to the egg, they just keep swimming straight... One of my classmates started putting this together and asked, "Where does the sperm go?!" and, naturally, I yelled across the room, "I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!?!" This shit is like the White House tour, we will show you a couple rooms like the vagina and the uterus, but you do not have permission to just go where ever the hell you want in my body now. No. Tour is over. Leave."<br />
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So I'm pretty sure that's where the tree went. And then I'm wondering, rape is about power, not sex, so if you're a demon, why bother? You're a demon. Do you need that extra power trip into the body? Is that necessary? You're just going to jack with the girl's mind for the rest of the movie, she won't have time to be psychologically scarred and vulnerable.<br />
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The girl starts acting a little <i>devilish</i> (get it?) and you get the stereotypical scene where it's very clear that she's off her nut and very dangerous but her oblivious friends are asking, "Are you ok? Why are you carrying a shotgun? I don't think you should do that." and she attacks her friend, vomiting blood all over her. This is when I realize, possession is like AIDS. You get it through the transmission of bodily fluids and it's not <i>actually</i> the AIDS that kills you-- what kills you is an infection that takes advantage of your weak immune system, making you cut off your own face.<br />
<br />
The movie continues on predictably-- the possessed girl tortures and kills her friends with a couple of them having moments of clarity that save her ass in the end. All sprinkled with lapses of good judgment and poor nonverbal communication reading. <i>Note: if someone is twitching uncontrollably and randomly while holding a shotgun, possessed or not, you probably shouldn't approach them.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
And I sit there wondering what a possession movie would look like with all the characters being Atheist or Buddhist. Just something that isn't Catholic.<br />
<br />
But that's what school has taught me. Possession is AIDS and you should wrap it before you go reading nonsense out in the woods. You are also probably screwed if you hear polka music.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-48439909423603568012013-10-10T15:04:00.000-04:002013-10-10T15:04:04.521-04:00Keeping the King of England Out of Your FaceOver a year ago, I wrote how <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/01/health-is-new-religion-something-that.html">health is the new religion</a>-- people are super serious about it and will go out of their way to impose their viewpoints on you whether you asked for their input or not. It's hard to imagine that I wrote my post before Crossfit was a big thing because that shit has seriously kicked health up into a whole new level of my-God-shut-up.<br />
<br />
But I'm not rewriting that post. I'm writing about how guns are the new religion and their devout followers are more antagonizing than Crossfitters-- which IS a fucking statement.<br />
<br />
The title of this post comes from The Simpsons. In one episode, Homer purchases a gun and as he normally does, he becomes overcome with zeal and joins the NRA. After Marge has left for the SLEep-eAZY MOTEL with the kids, Homer has a NRA meeting at his house where he shows off using his gun to turn off the TV, open cans of beer, etc. Krusty stops him screaming, "Guns aren't toys! They're for family protection, hunting dangerous and delicious animals, and keeping the King of England out of your face!"<br />
<br />
... Ok, obviously it's better to watch the episode. But the line is funny. I promise.<br />
<br />
This post has been a long-time brewing as I have some Facebook friends fighting the man by fueling their one-man minute man militia with tons of guns (as many of them assault as legally possible) and gaining support against the gov'ment by posting copious references to pro-gun, anti-media, anti-government, anti-Obama, anti-liberal, pro-assault weapons, pro-government being run by the people,... pro-leprechauns, and anti-unicorns agendas.<br />
<br />
I'll be honest, the messages are all extreme and excessive so I really have lost what their exact point is. I just roll my eyes, block from my newsfeed and move on with my life. And I also want to add, this is not EVERYONE who is pro-guns, anti-central government-- it's the asshats who go out of their way to force these viewpoints when I have made myself perfectly clear that I. am. not. interested.<br />
<br />
In the last few weeks, I've also joined an online dating site. They ask a bunch of ridiculously random questions, provide answers, you select your answer and "your ideal match's answer(s)" then how important the question is to you. The website then gives you a percentage on how you and another person agreed on questions. Which makes no sense to me because with some of the questions, I want someone to answer directly opposite of me so that we complement each other but I digress...<br />
<br />
One question asked "Which freedom is more valuable: the right to vote or the the right to own guns?" I selected the right to vote, clicked that my match should give the same answer, which is very important and commented, "If anyone selects 'the right to own guns', don't contact me whatsoever." Within <b>FIVE</b> minutes, shit you not, there was a message in my inbox of a guy arguing how we needed guns for when the government robs of us our rights, including to vote and yaddayaddayadda, something dictator-y.<br />
<br />
Really? I could not have been more clear. REALLY?! I said DO. NOT. CONTACT. ME... <b>REALLY?!</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
As you can see, I still cannot wrap my mind around this. You honestly cannot follow through with the simplest instructions? And because you went out of your way to not listen to me, I'm totally going to listen to you... *hinthint to anyone this fucking dense* NO. I AM NOT GOING TO LISTEN TO YOU.<br />
<br />
Amidst my frustrated confusion, I cannot help but wonder if that is what is, well, <i>wrong</i> with these gun-toting, government conspirators-- it's humanly impossible for them to not follow directions so the one way to supersede the laws of our society is to label the government corrupt.<br />
<br />
Now, I acknowledge I'm very biased by a privilege-- I grew up in Northern Virginia where a lot of the people I know work for the government in some way, shape, or form so I know that the government is made up of mostly good people and not blood-sucking Nazis. I also grew up with the knowledge that if a bomb was dropped on DC, I'm close enough to be in the blast-zone where my life could cease to exist at any moment. That's my reality, my friends; so any terrorizing threats here and abroad towards or from our government are really... not... terrorizing. I continue on with my life, hoping and believing in good in the world and in people and if I end up being wrong, I will no longer be here to be upset by it. So why waste my existence by worrying?<br />
<br />
I'm not trying to be political in this post. I'm just saying that not always do you need to share your opinions, particularly when someone has deliberately told you not to. Yes, you have freedom of speech but you also have the right to not speak. Have a fucking enlightened moment where you sit there and think how I'm naive and ridiculous or whatever the fuck you think. Just because I'm not as assaulting about my viewpoint as you, doesn't mean it doesn't exist or doesn't have validity or needs your opinion to be forced upon it. In fact, forcing your viewpoints when I have asked that you not kind of sounds like what you accuse the government or the liberal media of doing... huh.<br />
<br />
Finally, who the fuck uses social media to make widespread change at the individual level? Hasn't it been well established since the beginning of the Internet that any boob can post something online and that you should be wary of the information you receive on there? WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ANY DIFFERENT? This is a blog for my smartass rants. It will probably yield some more fucking messages about the gov'ment trying to take mah freedums and gun R the anzer but really nothing will change. I acknowledge that... and actually quite glad that people don't take more stock in my nonsensical ravings.<br />
<br />
And even though someone, I just know, SOMEONE will completely and totally miss my entire point of this post will try this again-- IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME BECAUSE YOU LOVE GUNS AND FEEL THEY WILL STOP THE GOVERNMENT FROM ENDING OUR LIVES AS WE KNOW IT, <b>DO. NOT. CONTACT. ME. AT. ALL.</b> To clarify-- I. don't. care. about. your. opinion. I will not listen and it will just piss me off and counter any point you are trying to make.<br />
<br />
... keep the King of England and yourself out of my face.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-19442277252661185632013-09-19T00:07:00.001-04:002013-09-19T00:07:50.100-04:00Wait, Was That Supposed to be a Turn-On? Yea, It Wasn't.Soooooo, I didn't think I had been gone for almost 4 MONTHS!!! My bad. I thought it was like, 2, MAYBE 3. But life's been annoying and my computer's been annoying and I'm sure I've been annoying by dealing with annoying things so you should be thanking me that I didn't come on here and write a whiny post........ you're welcome.<br />
<br />
ANYWAY! Today I visited my grandmother and I made the God-awful mistake of telling her I had joined an online dating site. She was a little scattered today so that quickly diverted to telling me everything about her neighbor's personal life and then I fumbled to get away from the awkwardness of hearing EVERYTHING about this woman I don't know well and somehow blurted out that I hate dating.<br />
<br />
What's with old ladies that we just word vomit to them? OH GOD NOW THE NEIGHBOR WILL LEARN ALL ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE.<br />
<br />
Delightful.<br />
<br />
But I do hate dating. I really do. It's this awkward struggle where you're like, "Do I share EVERYTHING with this person or do I just share *air quotes* everything with this person?" Because there's a part of you that wants to be honest and authentic and be genuine with this person who may be THE person. You don't know. And then when you hold back, when do you start to open the closet of "So heyyyy, I may have some super special qualities. Don't run. Hey! WAIT! I promise I'm not that weird! No! These were here all along and it was ok! No! I can be normal! Andddd you're gone... damn." Then the next time, you're like "Fuck this! I'm emptying alllllllll of my shit onto the table of the first place we meet up and you can just DEAL. OR NOT. Whatever. Fuck you."<br />
<br />
And because honesty is always the best policy and you keep telling yourself that you have plenty of friends who stand by your side with all of your personal shit, you go with the second choice-- you lay it allllll out.<br />
<br />
At this moment, I'd like to take a moment to say God, Buddah, and Allah (and all the Hindu gods and goddesses I cannot spell) bless the Internet. Because any time that you feel that you have some negative quality, some flaw, there's always, ALWAYS someone out there, on the Internet, who will one up you.<br />
<br />
Like seriously, I think I'm socially awkward and these people just put me to shame. I look completely sane. And that's weird.<br />
<br />
Some examples from my worldly online adventures. Keep in mind that this is the stuff BEFORE my online dating profile... before. Wrap your mind around this.<br />
<br />
"You're a psyc major, THAT'S SO FUNNY! I'm on antipsychotics! I mean, I'm SUPPOSED to be on antipsychotics. Lol!"<br />
"I think you should cut your hair short. My mom and my ex cut their hair short and it looked hot."<br />
"Yea, I don't like meeting people online either. I keep getting conned into relationships by other dudes even though I'm straight. I just feel bad for them."<br />
"You're a therapist? Hey, you could study me! I hate my current relationship and I'm wondering if I should leave it or not. Before you give me the obvious answer that everyone I've talked to has already given me, let me, please, give you the whole long, drawn-out background on why my partner's an ass but I'm clearly a wonderful person still in this relationship calling this person an ass to everyone I talk to including complete strangers such as yourself."<br />
<br />
Then there's the classics I receive when I tell people I study human sexuality in order to become a sex therapist:<br />
<br />
"Human sexuality, eh? Want to have sex with me?"<br />
"So what is sex therapy? Can you, like, help me with my dick? How about my porn addiction? How about how my dick doesn't work after I've watched a lot of porn and I want to watch more porn?"<br />
"My husband farts. That's not sexy. You're a therapist. Tell him it's not sexy."<br />
"This one person doesn't have sex. You should tell them to have sex."<br />
*From a coworker/superior*-- "Hey, you should host some talks about sex and orgasm right in the middle of it... why are you blushing? You shouldn't blush if you want to talk about sex with people."<br />
<br />
Ok, clearly the people don't always says these things this directly (note how I said "not always"-- it totally fucking happens half the time) but, you know, maybe honesty = not so much the best policy. Some thoughts are ok to keep to yourself-- promise. Please check your over-sized baggage that will not fit nicely in the overhead compartment of this conversation.<br />
<br />
And it's these moments I think about when I debate on whether I should whip out my personal "stuff" like it's my dick and this is the Internet. I would also like to bless all my non-single family and friends who tell me how I should TOTALLY be myself! Always! Find a man who loves you for who you are! To those people, I love you and your point is valid... but I don't think you understand... I have some serious "stuff". Why the fuck do you think I'm single?<br />
<br />
My grandmother is one of those people. After trying to explain the incredible uncomfortableness of being on the receiving end of someone's brutally honest reveal of their personal problems, I switched gears to say, "It's hard to determine what you compromise and stick out for and what you cut your losses and write-off as a mismatch in personalities."<br />
<br />
This then diverted down the dark path of why I don't want kids and a hideous behind-the-curtain look at my family of origin which, honestly, just validated my beliefs that children are a VERY bad choice for me. But the point is, dating blows. It blows chunks. Can I magically be in a relationship without jumping through the hoops of dating? Disney did not prepare me for this. Sleeping Beauty and Snow White's ass were sleeping half the movie and here comes this hot man who makes out with their unconscious bodies and they live happily ever after.<br />
<br />
At this point, I would like to clarify that I do NOT want men to make out or do anything to my unconscious body. I'm just saying, why do these bitches do nothing and end up happy forever? That's some communist shit.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-76187191591697074622013-05-22T23:02:00.001-04:002013-05-22T23:02:39.270-04:00Psh, I Can Write a Better Blog Than ThatHOLY CRAP I'M BACK AFTER LESS THAN 7 DAYS!!! I still contend this will not hold for long. But at least it happened once. Boom.<br />
<br />
So, the last few months with my flippant moods, I've become painfully aware that "be where you are" is somehow not happening here... It's supposed to. But it's not.<br />
<br />
So now I'm wondering "well how the hell DO you be where you are."<br />
<br />
Spoiler alert: I have no freaking clue.<br />
<br />
In the great irony that is life, <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2013/05/unamused.html">last week</a> I was stoked about my free online classes for the most part. One in particular, "Inspiring Leadership Through Emotional Intelligence", I have not been very amped about. First off, it's an Industrial/Organizational psychologist whom I have not had the best of luck with nor do I like the field... like, at all. It's like fast food-- you got into some I/O subject, forgetting how much you're not a fan and it's not until after you've started eating it that you think, "Hmm, yea... This is not a good life choice."<br />
<br />
Additionally, the professor is super jazzed about mindfulness.<br />
<br />
Also, I was super bummed that the course was not about how to manipulate people via emotional intelligence but is instead how to improve your leadership skills using emotional intelligence... probably isn't a good thing that my mind immediately interpreted the course in a sociopathic way and then made worse by the fact that I was disappointed when it was not "How to be a sociopath 101".<br />
<br />
But, I digress...<br />
<br />
So what is mindfulness, you ask? Excellent question, dear reader. Mindfulness is the hot new thing for psychology and therapy. I've been to countless presentations on mindfulness and every time they describe it (if they describe it at all) as "being mindful of one's own internal state"... um,... I'm pretty sure when I had to do vocab sheets back in 3rd grade I failed when I used the word to define the word. Is no one <i>mindful</i> of how holy unhelpful this is?<br />
<br />
And this is why I continue to attend presentations on it-- it's hot shit, it's everywhere, I clearly am missing something since I'm not totally infatuated with this process which seems like half-assed meditation. You sit quietly and intention examine your body state-- are you hungry? Is your heart beating quickly? Are you stressed? And in this process of wondering how/where you should relax, you ACTUALLY RELAX.<br />
<br />
Holy shit. Didn't see that one coming. Shit came from NOWHERE.<br />
<br />
To clarify, I'm not saying we don't need to relax, I'm saying how is being insightful, self evaluative, and conscientious a "hot" "new" or "thing"? Pretty sure "check yourself before you wreck yourself" has been around much longer than "mindfulness".<br />
<br />
But then as I'm sitting here, watching the videos on emotional intelligence and the hotmess I/O-ish presentation of "look at all these studies that suggest mindfulness is hot shit and those that don't practice it get Ebola and other issues that are catastrophically worse than Ebola."-- I just cannot help but think, "Oh shit, I'm like 2 seconds from getting Ebola because I don't practice mindfulness."<br />
<br />
Check yourself before you wreck yourself, Lauren. Pretty sure by taking the time to critically assess if your being mindful is actually in a demented sort of way mindfulness. You're mindful of not being mindful. Mindful requirements? Done. *whew* A neurotic moment a day keeps the Ebola away!<br />
<br />
<i>Before anyone goes and googles Ebola-- it's a virus that eats off your skin that made the jump from monkeys to humans (knew I shouldn't have touched that shifty monkey) and there's only been like 3 cases in the United States ever and you die a slow horrible painful death in 3 days... which, actually, compared to AIDS which we also got from those shifty jungle banana-throwing motherfuckers, is pretty quickly. Either way, don't google it, no one wants to see that.</i><br />
<br />
So at least once every hour, I catch myself being negative and thinking how I should stop.<br />
<br />
Today was the worse when I was reviewing one of my new syllabuses (syllabi? syllaboose? syllabusi? English, go home, you're drunk) and immediately started judging the shit out of it. This was consolidated (via mindfulness? maybe? probably not?) to 4 questions on the message board.<br />
<br />
I think that teaching is one of the hardest jobs in the world and I believe that I could never do it. It takes the patience and dedication that I don't even have a fraction of. So when I see a syllabus in the context of: the teacher has taught the EXACT same class before in the previous semester (and some semesters before it) in the EXACT same program and essentially only needed to tweak here and there and change the dates, I am PISSED. This is the first time I have ever met you (which, yes, is a lot of pressure conveyed on a syllabus) and you hand me this, and I get the distinct feeling that me or a gorilla in a suit (I'm not talking to that damn monkey) could teach the class better, I feel something is messed up with this picture!<br />
<br />
And so begins the battle royale as 30% of me tries to meekishly say, "Well, you're not a teacher-- you don't know." and "Try to be positive-- you can control how much you get from this class.", the other 70% of me negative nancy's back, "No! This is bullshit! An 800-level class doesn't mean you do high school level shit 6 times more than what is necessary!" Am I being practical or negative? What do you do when shit is genuinely impractical? How do you be where you are or be mindful? I'm upset that I'm wasting my time doing things that could really only waste my damn time. How is mindfulness helpful in this situation?<br />
<br />
As I alluded before, I have no answer to these questions. I guess there's just a fine line somewhere that distinguishes between "be where you are" and "shit, this situation is not good so let's take this time to think about otters holding hands."<br />
<br />
And when all else fails, partner up with a gorilla in a suit. No one fucks with a gorilla in a suit because you just KNOW he means business.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-66532093181351857962013-05-17T21:24:00.000-04:002013-05-17T21:24:18.865-04:00UnamusedOk, I fell off the face of the planet AGAIN. I know, just plain horrible. And here's where I'd blow smoke up your ass and say, "I'll do better!" but, let's be real, I'm trying to go to the beach for 7 of the next 10 days soooo yea, it's not getting better anytime soon.<br />
<br />
Sorry?<br />
<br />
ANYWAY! With my hiatus, I have been able to muse on different topics to fire off in the next couple weeks so that's good. This post is kind of an update on my life as I haven't really been telling people what's been going on. You got to keep in mind, my moods swing with the seasons and I'm starting to realize/admit that they swing much worse that I would like to admit but it's a thing. It's happening. We've got to roll with it.<br />
<br />
People have been asking me what I've been doing and the only solid answer I could give them for the past month was a shrug and "online classes" then quickly diverting the conversation to them. The truth is, it's FREE online classes totally unrelated to my major/human sexuality program via coursera.<br />
<br />
And they're epic. They may be becoming my addiction.<br />
<br />
This summer I'm signed up for 3 courses (through Widener), which I didn't know until after registration was technically an overload for the summer semester but I figured what the hell, I've got nothing better to do. That was before I took an online AIDS course through coursera that blew me away. Confession time-- I totally failed the class because I didn't do the essays. But I took copious notes, learned lots, took the tests even if the due date had passed and had a great experience.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile (back at the ranch, grandma's beating off the Indians...), I was taking an online class at Widener and was going further into debt learning approximately nothing. Then I learned all that nothing I was supposed to learn would come back up in two years for 3 different tests. Could it? Please? Fabulous. I could continue this rant for the 50th time but the moral of the story is, the class was not entirely beneficial nor pleasant and I broke a sweat for weeks wondering what the grade would be.<br />
<br />
None of this even included my one in-person class which has now become infamous for my discomfort (another long story that I could go into the 100th time but let's please, for the love of barbeque, NOT) in which I failed a class about myself TWICE and I sweated about that grade for multiple weeks.<br />
<br />
To give you who don't know some context-- receiving a "B" in my program lands one on academic probation, a second warrants "removal from the program" ie your ass is GONE.<br />
<br />
This semester sucked and I walked away being GIVEN (yes, I'm aware that grades are earned and I was clearly GIVEN these grades) As in the above mentioned courses and a B+ in the third class I loved, enjoyed, wasn't worried about at all. I still have no idea what else to say to this but what. the. fuck. Yes, they are relatively good grades but do I have to break a sweat for what ends up being no reason except to be handed an A? What the shit! I don't understand this!<br />
<br />
So now I'm looking towards my summer courses, two of which I'm not thrilled about. There's another online course which I've heard negative things about (which are quickly becoming confirmed as it's 1 week into the semester and I haven't heard from the professor) and the one class I was becoming excited about requires for me to interact with the professor I just reamed out for failing me on a paper about myself (did I forget to mention that was twice... BECAUSE IT WAS. I still don't get that).<br />
<br />
I didn't mean to go on a rant but I'm just saying, structured higher education is proving to be a bust. A stressful bust. With low yield in return.<br />
<br />
Then there's my free online classes. I'm a little embarrassed to admit how many I'm signed up for at the moment but I have learned SO much! Some of the classes include statistics (which is still as confusing as ever. Whoever came up with that as a concept just needs to be shot), operations management, leadership, nutrition, and healthcare innovation and entrepreneurship. I love that last course even though it has the occasional lecture focused purely on the medical field and I have to roll my eyes and just click to the next lecture. But that's all it takes. Click out. Pause. Get a snack. Replay things you didn't catch. Do the essays/don't do the essays. Who gives a shit.<br />
<br />
AND AND AND PLUS PLUS PLUS, I'm getting free info from people working at m-f-ing DUKE (which Lord knows, I could have NEVER gone to) about how to start my future innovative and entrepreneurial business. Step by step instructions on how to gather focus groups, weigh options, market, etc. And printed out slides to go with it?! Why thank you! Don't mind if I do!<br />
<br />
Recently, a classmate at Widener told me she was leaving the program because she had not been impressed with the education she was getting. My gut reaction was "But this is the only program in the country!" but then I became so jealous of her calm in her decision to walk from that-- it IS the only program in the country like this but that doesn't mean it's the right way to go.<br />
<br />
I still feel my program is the best way to go. It's what's best for me or else I'd never light a fire under my ass to get these things done and the people I have met have been incredibly worth it and have opened my experiences to so many things... in terms of this semester, no, not always great things, but my first semester was to die for and hopefully I get rid this sour taste this summer.<br />
<br />
And if not, I got the blueprints to make an awesome business anyway. Shit is from Duke. Classy shit... like me.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-32460314605619844252013-05-02T15:46:00.000-04:002013-05-02T15:46:05.993-04:00What I Learned From 50 Shades...So, after my last post, I had 2 weeks of hell trying to finish up my semester (let's stress the word "trying" as no, it is STILL not done-- so help me). Then last week I wrote about 2/3 of a post about my focusing problems and at the epitome of irony, I lost focus and never finished it. It's a hot mess so I don't know if you'll ever see that one completed...<br />
<br />
But this week, I'm going to slip into the book reviewer role.<br />
<br />
As many of you know (especially as I think I posted it SOMEWHERE on here but I cannot remember), I agreed to read the 50 Shades of Grey books in order to special guest host a discussion on the <strike>crap</strike> series in August at my Mom's book club. It may just kill me.<br />
<br />
I don't like to read. It takes too long and usually I get bored quickly (see focusing issues mentioned above). Reading has become the most unfortunate necessary evil as a student and particularly as a student who is never satisfied with my current education. So when I read, it's nonfiction, usually edited books in super professional and/or clinical language that I take copious notes on so that I, in theory, never have to read the material again. Which makes reading take longer. It's a vicious cycle of I'm not a fan.<br />
<br />
Since I hate reading and mainly only read/benefit from nonfiction books, I thought that these were suitable explanations as to why I never ever needed to read 50 Shades of Grey. But if I was being totally honest, these are not effective excuses. I've read fiction books before and really enjoyed reading them but to hell with telling other people that because then they will continue to tell me how I just have have have to read these "it's terrible writing but it's SO good" books.<br />
<br />
As I was going to mention in my profuse procrastination post, I was avoiding this one paper/class/professor SO much during exam week that I <i>actually</i> picked up and powered through about 120 pages of the first book in 3 nights. That's impressive for me. Shut up. Don't judge.<br />
<br />
Most of the nights, I came to a stopping point because I thought, "Oh, ew, this guy is creeper mcgee." or because I just wanted to punch the main character's "inner goddess" in the fucking face. I guess my "inner goddess" is a little more violent...<br />
<br />
<i>To clarify-- I do not think that the dude is sir creeps-a-lot because he's into kink. I think he's a creep weasel because he's motherfucking creepy. Low-jacking someone's cell phone so you know where they are at all times is some psycho-stalker shit, you do not get a reprieve because you're this gorgeous bazillionaire. In fact, that makes it even creepier because you have the money and the charm to do God-only-knows-what with that information. Your creepiness knows no bounds, sir, and if you were so intuitive, you should know to keep that shit in check. Boundaries, dude.</i><br />
<br />
Ok, I digressed there, BUT I what I mean to say is that I'm painfully reading this book wondering why the hell I hate it so much. I think back to the few books I do enjoy that are legit books and not textbook/tomes of clinical information:<br />
<ul>
<li>Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs. This is my most favorite book of all time but I rarely recommend it to people because I fully acknowledge that it is pure trash. Granted, it's better written than the trash of 50 Shades (for real, has the author ever read a freaking book and recognized that NOTHING of value is written in such a shitty way? Goodnight Moon is more sophisticated) but it's arguably much trashier than 50. I also watch things that overly embarrassing with their levels of trash, so clearly I'm not above reading garbage.</li>
<li>Hannibal Rising by Thomas Harris. Thomas Harris is one of my favorite authors because he writes so simply. You could be super descriptive about face nibbling but Thomas Harris doesn't. He sticks to the point of "some serious shit went down" without flowery language... well, except in Hannibal, wtf was that?... and for that, I love him. So, simpleton writing doesn't bug me.</li>
<li>Canterbury Tales by... some dead White dude. Obviously not my favorite book as I cannot remember the author at this moment but it's the most fancy book I DO like, mainly because some people have sex in a pear tree (sounds painful but possibly delicious) so kinky sex is a clear selling point for me.</li>
</ul>
So I wondered, why did I not like this 50 Shades of shit?And last night, it dawns on me. The whining. The whining of the main character is infuriating. Oh, your life as a privileged White college girl is sooo difficult because you have all these guys fawning all over you and then you succumb to the hottest and wealthiest guy on the West Coast only to find out he's a control freak in the bedroom like everywhere else in his life?<br />
<br />
Hmmm... must nice to have no real problems... ever.<br />
<br />
My life is NOT difficult at all. Not in the grand scheme of things. But I will still trade with you, simple bitch.<br />
<br />
Whining is my literary dealbreaker and I should have clued into this earlier. When Harry Potter came out (of the closet, hahaha... ok, I'm not funny but that would've made for an interesting discussion on whether you can "cure the gay away" with magic-- would heterosexuals have bought into the magical world of Harry Potter if there were still gay people running around? Ok, I got off topic...), I was totally like every kid who needed the new Harry Potter book the DAY it came out and I was essentially unavailable for the next 5 days as I would read until my eyes bled.<br />
<br />
But then the fifth book was released. I got it on the first day, as usual, and began to read. It was taking a little more time as I had totally forgotten a lot of the magical vocabulary (who the fuck is Voldemort, again?). But it was dragging even more because Harry Potter was crying like a bitch. "I'm Harry Potter. I defeated Voldemort multiple times and I'm as famous as Paris Hilton even though like Paris Hilton, I haven't done really anything of value. I live under some stairs with some dick muggles but I still expect everyone to tell me EVERY THING because I'm Harry Potter... and I think everyone should suck my dick."<br />
<br />
...Ok, maybe Harry Potter didn't say that. But I didn't finish reading the book, so I couldn't tell you for sure.<br />
<br />
THE POINT IS, I stopped reading the book 100 pages in because I felt that all Harry Potter was doing was whining to everyone and the fucking Sorting Hat... I also found out that the main character that they were going to permanently kill, which was played up to the nth degree before release, was, in fact, my favorite character. I literally threw the book in the corner so it could think about what it did. Haven't read HP since, have no intentions of doing so. Fuck Harry Potter and he can go whine about it to Voldemort during their next little tea party. <i>Because, honestly, if you were defeated by a baby, you are a shit wizard. I don't care what anybody says.</i><br />
<br />
And the characters in my favorite books don't whine. They complain, they have upsets, but they don't sit there and whine for pages which then causes me to whine-rant in blog post-form.<br />
<ul>
<li>Sellevision? One woman did kind of whine but it's safe to say that the cheese fell off her cracker and got mushed into the carpet. She slipped into crazyland, population: her. Whining is a little understandable.</li>
<li>Hannibal Rising? Hannibal did also somewhat whine but he saw his sister get eaten which is a valid complaint, in my opinion. He also got off is ass and ate the people who ate her so... yea, turned a frown into upsidedown cake on that one... literally... let's move on....</li>
<li>Nobody that I remember whined in Caterbury Tales there was some whining in Night but since that is a true account of the Holocaust, that's pretty valid to be not so thrilled about.</li>
</ul>
So, literary characters, if you're going to whine about your life, you better be a) cray-cray; b) willing to do something about it; c) whining about something legit. Or I'm not reading, got it?!<br />
<br />
Also, don't be a convenient fucking feminist who has an "inner goddess" (gag me-- sexual pun fully intended) that mopes about not having a relationship with a guy that you're just DYING to please in the most patriarchal fashion and then get all pleased with your "inner goddess" self when you orgasm upon first having intercourse which is undeniably unrealistic when measuring sexual pleasure via orgasm is a totally male and specifically very UNFEMINIST way of looking at things. Simple. Bitch.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-379261028187374212013-04-11T13:44:00.003-04:002013-04-23T09:21:04.278-04:00"HOT MESS!" Yea, I Said ItHello my fine, furry friends! I did not forget you last week-- I was genuinely drawing a blank on what to talk about and in the embrace of taking care of me, I listened to that internal voice that said, "I don't feel like writing a postttttt." You don't feel like it? DONE! NOT HAPPENING!<br />
<br />
But I'm back, and I'm sure your life is more complete for it.<br />
<br />
So this post today is an update on <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2013/03/steve-carrell-is-my-therapist-is-that.html">the solid attempts list</a> and other stuff and is generally a <b>hotmess</b>.<br />
<br />
Hotmess is one of my new words. It is more socially appropriate than "clusterfuck" and it conveys the same sentiments of 2+ things smashed together into a.... you guessed it,... clusterfuck... or hotmess... whatever.<br />
<br />
And, unfortunately, "hotmess" has made its way into my academic career. I have an online class that requires posts reflecting my personal thoughts/feelings/reactions/symptoms/plans for world domination EVERY WEEK. And EVERY WEEK we have to read everyone elses' posts (in theory) and respond to two. Some of the subjects of said assignments include "things I observed while sitting at a coffee shop or on a train for an hour". Needless to say, things get tedious.<br />
<br />
So my thought is to make the assignments a little less "uuuuugggggghhhhh" (that's the scientific term, right?) for everyone, I write conversationally like I do here, but with less cursing, less cursing, and more critical thought towards the required materials in order to meet the expectations of the assignment. This is where <b>hotmess</b> fits perfectly-- "My notes are a hotmess, but in general, here's what I found."<br />
<br />
Well, apparently my professor doesn't agree as every time I have written the h- word, I get her <strike>strikethrough</strike> and comment about how "notes can be scattered" and whatever. Yes, scattered, that's what I implied. This is just one example of the negative criticism I've been receiving on my writing recently. And as I made it through my first Masters program with a 4.0 and I get compliments on my writing regularly, I'm pretty over the negative comments.<br />
<br />
Ok, I get it, I should be a humble student eager to improve where I can and I will fully admit that there has been 2 or 3 reaction papers/homework assignments this semester where upon reading the comments I thought, "Yea... that really does sound like shit." But after a while, give me a fucking break. I'm not Shakespeare nor will I be the next Maya Angelou but you asked for my personal reaction-- not a professional critique in officially format.<br />
<br />
There's a great chance I'm wrong on that one but... I don't really care. I'm that over it.<br />
<br />
And maybe that's the dark side of trying to be more positive and be more content with where I am-- you reach a point where you think, "Well, that's just going to be a hotmess. Get over it world, because I'm not dicking with it anymore."<br />
<br />
So anyway, the rest of the solid attempts list:<br />
<br />
I got a <b>haircut</b> last week-- not in March like I had anticipated BUT now I'm on the haircut schedule I want to be on (get one every factor of 4 month-- April, August, December). The shit took over an hour and a half which I still don't understand even though I was THERE and didn't have her wash my hair or do anything fancy. Just put in layers. Geesh. I was late to my tutoring sort-of-job which really pissed me off but thank Buddha high schoolers are really lax on time.<br />
<br />
I made some <b>progress on the basement</b> I think I got my TV Area set up and some floor cleaned but beyond that... I don't remember what I did. THAT'S A LIE. Ok, so in the workroom, my dad built these big shelves for storage and I decided to block them into three sections-- one for each of us. Your shelf was your space to store things and if you cannot fit your shit in an organized manner on your shelf, guess who's problem that is. So this month, I finally got everyone's stuff on those shelves which is exciting-- well, not really. One person's shelves are overflowing and um... let's not go there.<br />
<br />
MOVING ON! It's funny, I made <b>some progress on my textbooks</b> but it was in the few days after I wrote the previous posts. Textbook reading has been totally ditched since then, which I'm somewhat remembering I wrote about in a previous post.<br />
<br />
We'll skip and come back to <b>being comfortable with my progress</b>. I have been <b>healthier with my diet</b> and ultimately with my exercising. The exercising deal is still frustrating as I have seen little results. I have more energy and there's clear progress on the cardio machines and while I see slow progress on how much I can lift with my lower body and zero progress on upper body. On top of all of this, I haven't lost a pound or inches or whatever crap people try to tell you in attempts to make you feel better. I love you friends, and I appreciate your efforts but let me try to clarify why the zero weight loss has me so angry: I hate the gym. It is a chore and it's not even a chore I can multitask with to feel somewhat better about. Because of this, it is a fight to go EVERY TIME and when I have nothing tangible or measurable to point to saying, "This is what makes this thankless task worth it", it makes me want to quit. I know for a fact I'm helping myself to not gain MORE weight which is why I haven't quit yet but dear Lord, I would like some type of reward for my efforts.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, with the diet, I think I've gotten to the best I can, given the circumstances. Eating healthy while trying to be cheap is near impossible. Then you add the food group our family is best at-- complaining-- and you're really locked into a box. So, I admire my ability to keep the bill down to a low amount and the reduced number of leftovers in the fridge and eat the healthy dose of complaining with my meal. I just really wish I could <b>cook faster</b>-- I think that needs to go on the solid attempts list to accomplish by the end of the year or something.<br />
<br />
To wrap up, I am <b>more comfortable with my progress</b>. The whole time I've been writing this, I've been turning to look at my now totally Pecan Sandie wall, which I finished yesterday. It's a little overshadowed by the unholy shit look of the uncleaned floor (which is at it's worse in front of where I painted) but I think about how I JUST got the wall painted-- the floor will come in time. I'm not thrilled with my weight but I find odd inspiration from things like <a href="http://haleymorriscafiero.com/about/#wait-watchers">this photographer</a> who has made it a personal project to take pictures of herself in public spaces with peoples' reactions which, if you look at the pictures, are less than kind. There's something very striking about the vulnerability and it's a good reminder of everyone goes through this struggle and sometimes it's not as visible as a picture. Nope, my books are not read and when I look at them occupying every little crevice of my bookshelf next to my desk, I heave a great sigh but remember that I've been doing something important and/or caring for myself when I wasn't reading those books. When all else fails, I waste a few minutes <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/animal_forecast/2013/02/quokka_profile_australia_s_adorable_vulnerable_marsupials.html">learning about something stupid</a>, like an article about the Quokka written by a Quokka including special lines like "I'm delicious." Plus the animal is fluffy and smiles ALL THE TIME. It's fucking adorable.<br />
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I heard of a Buddha quote earlier in the day, "Let go or be dragged" so I'm continuing to harness the power of the Quokka and just be content with a hotmess present.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUVjqT-51aaDm0d-zNhCw7G6nx3Y2MHfWtFP5QIwmNt0fory6T2Mj5tSRWZ7v9gRu-4Edb0YHB-FmUxCuWyw1rNL7JDm8lv3SnxJFkFfW7JyvyB5wZjKlHguWhxBp8m59HVi7OiGKxYc/s1600/Meet-the-Quokka_0-l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUVjqT-51aaDm0d-zNhCw7G6nx3Y2MHfWtFP5QIwmNt0fory6T2Mj5tSRWZ7v9gRu-4Edb0YHB-FmUxCuWyw1rNL7JDm8lv3SnxJFkFfW7JyvyB5wZjKlHguWhxBp8m59HVi7OiGKxYc/s400/Meet-the-Quokka_0-l.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He is all sorts of excited about that leaf.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-35520605194156456882013-03-26T14:58:00.001-04:002013-03-26T14:58:27.331-04:00How is This Healthy? This is Just Jacking My Blood PressureDue to the momentous stuff going on in the news today/this week regarding gay and civil rights, I was considering coming on here and writing about my thoughts but honestly, there's nothing else that I can say that wold be more poignant, effective, clear, humorous, accurate, and dynamic as some of the things other people have said. Every adult human has the right to marriage, end of story. That's my viewpoint.<br />
<br />
In other news, have y'all started watching Bates Motel yet? Shit is getting more and more real! Again, I'm probably biased because it marries my former career choice (criminal psychology) with my current (marriage and family therapy) BUT you should watch anyway so my show doesn't get cancelled on me.<br />
<br />
Moving along...<br />
<br />
I had planned over a week ago that this week's post would be about food and my current culinary and health efforts. Serendipitously, this past weekend I had class with a lot of group presentations and one was about body image-- with a <i>very</i> heavy focus on eating disorders. One member of the group (who appeared to be the leader and main drive behind why the group chose the topic) proceeded to argue how disturbing it was how people will put an unhealthy focus on their body and how your body image is not just your perspective on your body but a culmination of things. Because body image is more than just your body, people should not be so hung up on looking a particular way. Further, the "fit-spiration" (i.e. the stuff all over the Internet people circulate to motivate themselves to be healthier) is as damaging as the "thin-spiration" used by those with eating disorders to starve and be thin.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure where to even start with how much I did not like the presentation and the statements made because it honestly pisses me off the more I think about it. I mean, first, if body image is not just your perspective on your body (which, gee, really sounds like the exact same thing), why the hell did your presentation narrow in on only eating disorders?<br />
<br />
<i>Here, I need to add a note. The group consisted of 3 people and one person focused on body image in India and did not focus solely on weight but also on skin color and other physical appearances. I really liked her section but again, it mainly focused on the outward/external experience of BODY</i>.<br />
<br />
Second, even if you did not include the other aspects of self that add up to body image (whatever you think that they are), you can talk about more than the negative stuff. So I asked after their presentation how effective they thought the Dove campaign was. For those who do not know: the Dove campaign has made a conscious effort to show "real" women in their ads. These women have curves, minimal makeup and tend to be from a greater variety of backgrounds than what we typically see in the media. I, personally, think it's a good step in the right direction as the women still look beautiful and happy despite not fitting what we traditionally see. The girl presenting did not agree and felt that all "body positive" campaigns such as Dove were damaging as they still focused on the body instead of encouraging that you are worth more than just that.<br />
<br />
Overall, I sat fuming as this person does fit the traditional desirable model of beauty-- White and thin. I couldn't help but think that it's pretty fucking easy to make judgments on how other people should or should not feel when you are not at all in that perspective. Further, <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/06/i-love-you-like-fat-kid-loves-cake.html">that's not what I see</a> and whether I'm 100 or 400 pounds, I don't appreciate my viewpoint being marginalized.<br />
<br />
But I didn't say anything because the previously link post states, I'm not that bad off. I'm overweight but not obese and the reason I'm overweight is because of the lifestyle choices I make. Another classmate stated on the lunch break we had how upset she was because she has a fit-spiration board on Pinterest and has lost 40 pounds in the last year (which is a perfectly healthy loss as you should only lose 2 pounds a week).<br />
<br />
I didn't want to make it about me but I wish I had told my classmate how impressed I was with her efforts but losing weight and trying to maintain healthy habits is most frustrating shit that ever existed.<br />
<br />
...ok, that's an exaggeration. But honestly, I have ZERO self-control and I live with two people who have a totally different compass from which they gauge their health and we're all trying to eat the same food. Shit is difficult.<br />
<br />
In case you missed it or haven't talked to me <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2013/03/steve-carrell-is-my-therapist-is-that.html">I'm trying to eat healthier</a>, work on my cooking skills, and ideally lose weight. I'm aware that my definition of healthy is not incredibly... accurate? honest? complete? productive? all of the above?... since I started from the point where my parents are now. So, I've been cruising the Internet for accurate, honest, complete, productive sources on healthy eating. I found nutrition.gov which is the only site I've trusted so far. I found out I'm not eating enough food. Well, I'm eating more than I should at dinner but the small snacky-ness throughout the afternoon/evening around a large dinner doesn't add up to much and it's mostly bad. So I'm sitting here thinking, "Shit, I have to eat more food, disrupt my day more often and think of a lot of options to meet these requirements because I will get sick of food SO quickly-- particularly if it's good for me." And then we reach the fucking vegetables. Did you know that there 5 different types of vegetables and you need a different amount of each every week? Are you fucking kidding me? And then there's only but so many dead animals that I can slap on a plate and present healthy with all the proteins and stuff needed.<br />
<br />
Essentially, setting up for my first week took over 4 hours. Now, granted, some of those hours was just recording and researching the different types of vegetables, what's in season, etc. and will not need to be done again. THEN there was the clusterfuck of incorporating my tastes (I don't like fish or spicy food); my mom's taste which appears to be growing more selective every week (doesn't like vegetables unless cooked to death, doesn't want to eat any healthy grains because they have no flavor which I would think is better that having a BAD flavor but ok); the fact that shit goes bad in like 2 days just BEING in our kitchen (which really cuts down on fresh possibilities); and the fact that I cannot go too nuts with the changes because it will upset the pattern my parents have taken years to form. OH YEA, and we do not really have the money or the space to go apeshit on "buy everything so everyone is happy". AND I'd like to try the recipes I posted on Pinterest and in about 50 cookbooks WITH THE FULL INTENTION TO TRY THEM.<br />
<br />
The crap takes 2 hours to do THEN there's ordering everything online and shopping to make sure I got the cheapest stuff without totally eliminating quality. This takes another 2 hours. So I guess the first week the whole process took 6 hours. Either way, WHO HAS TIME FOR THIS SHIT?! No wonder all of America is fat-- we have shit to do! Sweet Baby Rays! WTF?! It's like a part-time fucking job to be healthy! My blood pressure is sky rocketing just thinking about making a weekly menu.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, menu planning was not maintained the next week-- it took me months to wrangle the patience to work out the first menu, it will probably take just as long before I get back to it. I'm in over head. Fuck this. <br />
<br />
No wonder my classmate didn't want to focus on physical health. Shit is annoying...Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-54912561282053535082013-03-19T12:52:00.001-04:002013-03-19T12:52:45.953-04:00Really? I Could've Sworn I Was Competent...We're going to start yet another post with a TV detour--<br />
<br />
I watched the premiere of Bates Motel on TV last night and it was pretty good. Not sure if the show will continue to be epic but it's a little tough seeing Charlie Bucket as Norman Bates. Also, the show doesn't have the violin music from the Psycho theme. I want to, like, teach a class on cultural implications of Alfred Hitchcock now... Like I need something else on my plate.<br />
<br />
... Anddd that will be our terrible segue into this week's post. In reality, I just wanted a moment to talk about Alfred Hitchcock because I'm a major dork.<br />
<br />
Why doesn't anybody say how tough it is to be happy? Like, my God, this shit is taking a lot of work! Being a negative nancy was ten times easier. Geesh, life.<br />
<br />
Now, like any good therapist, I do believe that pushing through and learning to adapt during the tough times builds character and helps one become a stronger person. But seriously, there's no tap out like "Ok, I cannot handle more, please stop." Life has no safeword-- it just keeps going. and then I sit here wondering what type of terrible shit I did to reap an overabundance of bad karma.<br />
<br />
And I also feel, yes, in the grand scheme of things, life is really not that terrible. I have a roof, food, water, lots of opportunity... things are pretty decent, actually, and are a hell of a lot better than they were a few months ago. Maybe it's more daylight. I do dig the sun.<br />
<br />
ANYWAY! It just feels like doing anything in the past few months has been an uphill battle and after this past weekend (which was wonderful with zero pain), I thought, "whew! I'm finally catching a break." and then reality came and slapped me in the face, forcing me to readjust my schedule YET AGAIN.<br />
<br />
In between the crying pity party last night, I enumerated all the things I was trying to do to improve myself. Holy crap, that shit added up! I didn't realize I was trying to do at least 12 different things and tackle most of them every week... no wonder I suck.<br />
<br />
Amidst trying to reinvent myself via a dozen tasks, the one place that has been genuinely difficult and out of my control has been two of my classes this semester. I've gotten poor feedback on just about everything I've done and it's a wearing me thin. I got a 4.0 GPA at La Salle without trying and a 4.0 last semester without much effort. As these two classes have burst my bubble, I started to dread that here I was operating under the false bravado that I'm competent but shit just got real and I am, in fact, not all that hot shit. So I've been trying to go above and beyond on assignments and put more effort than I ever have into them and then I got shot down for doing too much for an assignment and I was told that I did not use enough research when presenting my opinion and when I gave my opinion and cited sources, I was too harsh. Geez-ass. I just don't know what these professors want.<br />
<br />
So that was my mindset walking into my third class of the semester this past weekend. I'm an idiot.I'manidiotI'manidiot. Not only was the professor AWESOME but he's one of those teachers that asks the class, "Who has heard of ___?" And about 80% of the time, I had totally heard about what he was talking about and COULD EVEN RECALL WHAT IT WAS... that's pretty big for me if you don't know me that well. I'm classic for the "Isn't that the thing in the place with the deal?" AND AND AND PLUS PLUS PLUS, I coordinated my group project (yea, I did the OCPD overhaul take-over. I'm not proud of that fact) so that we finished our entire project during class. I still have to send out an email but I'm pretty much done with half of my class!<br />
<br />
Back to last night's "WTF am I doing wrong with my life" fest-- not only am I doing too many things but I just have the unfortunate situation of having two ridiculous standards professors in one semester and on top of all that, I'm rather tapped. Just no energy.<br />
<br />
With all of that in mind, I sat here, at my freezing desk (for reals, what gives weather?), ready to destroy and re-do my schedule for about the 10th time this year (and I mean calendar year). Out of the 12 things I'm trying to do, being more positive is not on there and it really should. So in working around two kind of super painful classes (why don't they warn you need lube to slip through these classes?), prioritize classes then happiness then everything else.<br />
<br />
Already I realized I dumped so much time into reading, which I cannot stand. Then when I don't read I feel guilty and unproductive. TO HELL WITH YOU, READING! I'VE GOT SHIT TO DO AND BE HAPPY ABOUT!!!<br />
<br />
... because that's how a chronic planner has to work-- happiness doesn't just "happen" it get's scheduled in. Duh. Why didn't I think of that? I'm going to schedule in this fun stuff and fit in the lame around it. Here's the sunshine and rainbows take over of the schedule!<br />
<br />
... hopefully it works.<br />
<br />
...and hopefully it will include watching Charlie Bucket with his bat-shit crazy mom.<br />
<br />Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-35150452788075931622013-03-12T23:43:00.001-04:002013-03-12T23:52:53.251-04:00Pretty Sure Gandhi Wasn't Talking About Puke"Be the change you wish to see in the world."<br />
<br />
This is one of Mahatma Gandhi's most infamous quotes and it was even referenced in Prison Break, the most epic TV show of all time *sigh* come back to my TV, Michael Scofield... Oh. Sorry. Was I fantasizing about Wentworth Miller again? Yea that happens...<br />
<br />
Anyway...<br />
<br />
Did you know Gandhi had kids?! I mean, I'm not surprised but I guess I never pictured Gandhi as an actual, like, guy with a wife and kids but I just noticed that while googling his name to make sure I spelled it right (that's right, you guys got spellcheck this week, aren't you lucky!). You know you're a sexologist when your first thought is, "I wonder what it would be like to have sex with Gandhi."... or really any prophet for that matter (which I just spelled as "profit"-- never noticed those were the same word, huh). And what about him as a dad?! Gandhi: "Be the change you want to see in the world." Kid: "Well then, dad, then YOU should probably clean my room since I don't really have any clean visions of it." *pause* Gandhi: "No one likes a smartass." ... ok, maybe it was only my parents who said that last one.<br />
<br />
Ok, folks, seriously, let's stop having the attention span of a ferret.<br />
<br />
So, the story inspiring this post took place on Saturday. I was hankering for Panera, which, when I think about it, has pretty much become an addiction to that orange goo they put on Sierra Turkey sandwiches which is the only thing I've ever eaten there outside of the bakery case. Recently, the Panera in Falls Church has become like every other chain in Falls Church-- it gets so much business from our 2.1 square mile population that it does not need to have stellar service... in fact, it doesn't even have to breach "adequate" half the time.<br />
<br />
But I digress, clearly as I continue to go to Panera at least once every other week, the crack goo they put on their sandwiches is working sufficiently. Underestimating the "healthy" and wealthy motivations of Falls Church soccer moms and their 1 point 5 billion children all congregating at Panera and not Burger King like normal fat-ass Americans, I walked into a ridiculously long line at 1:30pm. Now, standing in a long line was bad enough but then you LITERALLY had an entire soccer team walk in with their respective parents, find the one parent waiting in line with her kids and gave her their order. Which means that 1 mom with her fidgety boys represents about 20 sandwiches. That's just the epitome of dicketry. If you looked up dicketry on an online dictionary or "dickholes" or "dickweasels" or anything related to YOU'RE A DICK, that shit would be right there as an example.<br />
<br />
Now, my anxiety was probably heightened by a small child standing behind me coughing and just generally standing too close to me (I have an issues with kids, it's why I'm never reproducing) so I started doing all of my tricks where I create distance with the person behind me and thank God I did because the kid coughed and began puking all over the floor.<br />
<br />
<i>Side note: This is not the first time this has happened, it's the fifth. Shit you not, I told my mom this story and she proceeded to ask why is it that kids only throw up in restaurants when I'm around. I don't know why they do, I just really wish they would stop because puke makes me want to puke so if germy little children could stop, that'd be fabulous. </i><br />
<br />
Naturally, the mom rushes the kid out as soon as she can but somehow everyone in the restaurant BUT me has missed this event which is now evidence in a large pool of bile on the floor and are standing in front of the mother and then WALKING IN THE PUKE. Honestly, how much do you have to be not tuned into your surroundings to miss a kid Exorcist-ing all over the floor? So before I start adding to the bile pile, I lean over and interrupt someone ordering to tell the cashier, "Um, a kid got sick over here and someone needs to mop up right away." The guy now behind me (who yes, moved closer to the mess to ensure his position all up in my personal space) mumbles loudly, "Oh great, now they only have THREE cashiers." My anxiety has literally retracted my head into my spine as if I was turtle but upon hearing this, pops out to do a 180 degree turn and yell, "<b>Oh, I'm SORRY but there is THROW UP in the middle of where people are EATING! I JUST thought that maybe I'd take the COURTESY to care for myself and EVERYONE AROUND ME to get rid of this HEALTH HAZARD</b>." Cue no one being alarmed by my yelling and instead checking their shoes idly like, "Oh, did I step in puke?" The man remained offended that I dared to distract a cashier from expediting the sandwich receiving process... Anyway, long story short *too late*, I got home with no chips and the crack goo was replaced by mayonnaise on my sandwich which means I definitely drove back and I've sworn off that Panera forever... or until I forget about this incident in a year or so, whatever.<br />
<br />
But it's shit like that that I think of when I hear people say how people are so much <i>nicer</i> in the South. Um... not in Virginia. Even in undergrad in southern Virginia (I get that DC area-ians are their own shade of dicketry, ordering enough sandwiches to feed half of Falls Church), people were not that nice. It was in undergrad too where my geography professor whom had been all over the world told me how the city of brotherly and sisterly love that I was intended to move to was filled with the biggest, most unpleasant assholes ever. I was thoroughly prepared to run for my life at any given moment. People in Philly were DELIGHTFUL. No, I did not go to a sports game and yes, I got involved in a few fights (not by choice, trust me-- my only move is the aforementioned turtle move. Fuck if I'm getting in a fight) but they were with New Jerseyians-- a stereotype that WASN'T broken in my short Philly residency. Sorry, Jersey people! But over the two years, people would start conversations with me all the time even when I was standing there being the DC-ian that I am, thinking, "Dude, I have shit to do." People would SMILE to each other walking down the street and would help you find parking. I don't know where Philly people got this bad rep although they do tend to be cocky (maybe you should work on that? I dunno).<br />
<br />
So when I moved back to the South (you know, that place known for it's courtesy and *ahem* good food) and found the most unsociable people at the gym, no one smiling at each other, or refraining from hoking their horn at you when you're trying to park in our notoriously shit parking garages, I was rather bummed. I had a conversation with my dad tonight about the low attendance rate at his Lion's Club and I said how people aren't invested in their community-- their invested in their kids and work, not at all in themselves, becoming better people, or being better citizens of planet Earth. I found myself stressing to my dad how he needed to talk directly to his fellow lions-- what are the things you like about the club that you want to see put more into action?<br />
<br />
Be change you want to see in the world-- whether it's a less puke covered world or a more heavily attended Lions Club. Or you can create a position in your student organization to have the program connect more as a group of awesome people changing the future. Maybe you want to see more sex positivity and open dialogue about a heavily stigmatized community. Be the change.<br />
<br />
Now if I can just figure out how to be the change that gets Wentworth Miller more into my world.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-12888250712495571022013-03-05T15:46:00.001-05:002013-03-05T15:46:55.550-05:00Steve Carrell is my Therapist... Is That Weird?In case you missed it, <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2013/02/but-where-i-am-blows.html">I've become a negative nancy.</a><br />
<br />
But the first step is admitting it! Let's move onto step 2. Have you ever noticed how no one ever talks about step 2? It's like, you reached step 1 (and usually it's in a sarcastic sense of "Dude, you need to reach step 1") anddd you're done. If only things were that easy. But they're not! So let's continue...<br />
<br />
In a <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/06/spontaneous-post.html">previous post</a>, I talked about how a friend was being spontaneous and I found that so inspiring and I was jealous-- how does one not plan?! Fast forward to now, I'm planning the crap out of my life and things are not really getting done and I'm feeling lost. A mutual friend informed me how the aforementioned friend isn't doing super well with the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants routine. As I'm sitting here, listening to this play out, I wonder, "On what planet was that a good idea?" and I catch myself wondering how I envied this lifestyle and, luckily, didn't follow through with it. *whew*<br />
<br />
Last night, while I was doing my weekly moping of planning my upcoming week and sighing heavily at the things unaccomplished the previous week, I was also watching <i>Crazy, Stupid Love</i>. Yet again I became envious because here is Steve Carrell just sitting there and the fox mcfox Ryan Gosling walks up to offer changing his life and making him a better "more interesting" person. Ironically, I came to the conclusion a few days ago I have become super boring despite the fact I am doing 10 different things. So I want to be more interesting, more diverse and, like, make it a legit pattern and part of me. Yes, I am admitting that I cannot watch a movie without a) <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2013/02/because-necrophilia-is-cool.html">having a normal fucking movie experience</a>, and b) <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/09/sorry-and-other-things-that-matter.html">learning valuable life lessons from Steve Carrell</a>. I would almost work on this except I have other shit to do.<br />
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Which leads me to throwing out <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/08/bucket-list.html">the Bucket List</a>-- surprisingly, I've gotten a lot more on it started than I realized. But the sad face of the bucket list is that if you don't get it done by a certain time, you failed. It doesn't reward efforts. So we are fighting the negative nancies with a "Solid-Attempts" List. Love that name? I worked on it for a solid 2 seconds. Solid try 1-- DONE! Boom. Progress already.<br />
<br />
By the end of this month, I'd like to make the following Solid Attempts:<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Get a haircut:</b> and, in turn, getting myself on a haircutting schedule so I'm not constantly wondering, "When's the last time I got a haircut, again?"</li>
<li><b>Make progress on the basement:</b> everyone hasn't heard crap about the basement because I haven't done crap in about 2 months. Over the last few days, though, I've gotten over some barriers that were holding me up and it feels pretty good. Ideally, getting the craft supplies under control would be a good thing for this month but as it looks like an incredible bitch to do, let's not crap on our Solid Attempts list already.</li>
<li><b>Make progress on my textbooks:</b> I'd love to have more than half of my 10 required textbooks read by the end of the semester but as I keep making multiple day stretches without reading, that's unlikely. And, again, this a Solid Attempts list-- not a Bucket List that makes demands.</li>
<li><b>Be comfortable with my productivity:</b> yes, yes, let's flourish the positivity! Sunshine and rainbows on this crap!</li>
<li><b>Be healthier with my diet:</b> finding that cupcake place over in Merrifield was a bad life choice... particularly as it is Girl Scout cookie time. But we're going to lie and say that this is prepping me for the incredible amount of food I should be eating... which needs to be considerably healthier.</li>
</ul>
By the end of summer:<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Have some sort of gathering that includes showing off the basement:</b> this would imply that the basement needs to be done BUT IT DOESN'T. Let's repeat, it's ok if it's not perfect.</li>
<li><b>Lock in my brand name and begin work!:</b> I finally thought of the perfect name for my brand which I've heard you cannot Google because people sit around waiting to steal handle names and such so they can sell it to you or something... I don't know. Even if I have just that figured out, I'll be happy.</li>
<li><b>Get a project done:</b> I don't care if the project is a piece of furniture from scratch, the free online course I signed up for (like and idiot), or finishing a scrapbook (for reals, I need to get back on that).</li>
<li><b>Make progress on my books:</b> I currently have 24 books I want to read and take notes on to improve myself as a researcher/therapist/BDSM expert/etc. This doesn't include the other books I want to read "for fun" (which is such a bizarre concept since I still don't like reading) nor does it include the 50 Shades books which I have to have polished off and presented coherently at my mom's book club in August. I will inevitably have more textbooks in the summer bringing that number... somewhere. So if could not have the number get to astronomical levels, that'd be super.</li>
<li><b>Consider expanding this list:</b> ok, only going to the end of summer doesn't seem like much but these are Solid Attempts! There's quite the possibility I'll be on some other kick by the time summer rolls around and you guys are just going to have to go with it *evil laugh* ... or stop reading. But hey, I appreciate any solid attempts you make in trying to stick with me.</li>
</ul>
<br />
SO! In conclusion, we are being where we are by appreciating the solid attempts and by trying to be less boring as facilitated by the great therapist Carrell (with an assist by topless Ryan Gosling. My. God. What a foxy man. That shit would motivate anybody. The man is like eye therapy.).<br />
<br />
The glass just got half full... of VODKA!!! Where's some lemons and cranberry juice?<br />
<br />Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-38149797897487342942013-02-26T16:22:00.002-05:002013-02-26T16:22:42.342-05:00But Where I am BlowsSo, yesterday was supposed to be blogpost writing day but I honestly didn't know how to write the hotmess coming your way. Prepare yourselves, people. An extra day did not make me worlds more coherent.<br />
<br />
I don't feel "with it" at all these past couple of months.<br />
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What is "it"? I DON'T KNOW. If I knew, I could probably get with it but I don't sooo... here I am? Even though I don't know where that is?<br />
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Like, I just feel like something is missing.<br />
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And, of course, being my own therapist (I swear, we are the most neurotic people, as you will probably be able to tell by the end of this post), I start posing questions to myself, trying to answer, then you come up with a "treatment plan" of <i>here's what has to change</i> and <i>here is what it will look like when it is changed</i>. But as I implied in my <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2013/01/behold-power-of-oatmeal.html">oatmeal post</a>, the things I'd like to see in myself are intangible. I am the project and I know what areas I'd like to wok on but what will success look like so I know to be happy when I make progress or succeed? Not a clue. For example--<br />
<br />
<b>It's time to get started on myself as a brand.</b> If I want my future dream and business to be rolling and becoming increasingly more productive, I have to really start getting my shit together and establishing myself. I've actually done pretty well on this. I've been mapping out plans and questions and articles but between the occasional downer from school and the fact that I still don't have a website, I still don't feel like I've made much headway. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, <b>I want to be a better therapist.</b> Yea, over a month ago, I realized therapy may not be what is right for me and since I've admitted that to myself, I have been less anxious but overall dissatisfied that I've been in the pursuit of sex <i>therapy</i> since high school and, technically, that's still what my degree is going towards. Because it is the degree I'm working towards, I, at the very least, need to return to therapy during a year-long internship but I'm also motivated to build myself as a well-rounded professional who is not just the research one-trick pony. And in case my life hasn't been a royal pain in my ass the last month, I started reading my couple and sex therapy textbooks a few days ago and to my horror, I was pumped to use the information in a therapy session. NO, DAMMIT! I finally had the come-to-Jesus where I admitted to myself and others, "I want to be a researcher-- not a therapist." Stop being excited, self, STOP IT.<br />
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Ironically, as I've just started to fully embrace the "come-to-Jesus" phrase, I've kind of walked away from Jesus. Maybe the holidays spurred my religious questionings but I've all-the-sudden become <b>more motivated to explore other religious ideas</b>. My first stop will be the Satanic Bible which I've been wanting to read since sophomore year but I've been too guilty Christian to admit. Now, I'm just swamped with reading for classes and other things (I just started reading the Illustrated Man so there's SOMETHING I'm not taking notes on), so I'll probably get around to it when I'm no longer motivated.<br />
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Amidst all this redefining myself, I started my multicultural course. I've told everyone and their mom about my experience so far and I've got a serious rant-post brewing for when the class is done (and my grade is secured) but in sum-up, this class has the worst timing ever. I've been in several multicultural courses which I've hated (for reasons I'll explain months from now) and I feel like I learn nothing. This one, I have to admit, I'm learning something. one of the bigger things is how I've viewed my process of viewing race and exploring other cultures. I essentially had a <i>come-to-Jesus</i> where I recognized, "No, I don't go out of my way to learn about others which makes me a pretty lame person." But I try and I've made progress and for several other reasons, <b>I don't want to learn about these things</b>-- at least, not now and not in the way I've been told which makes me think, a) am I a horrible person because I don't want to learn or b) is learning about it now just too much for me, and I'm really ok. Crossing our fingers it's the second one.<br />
<br />
<b>And then there's all the little things.</b> I've been going to the gym but haven't seen great progress, I'm getting better at coordinating meals but I'm still not in the full healthy, balanced diet yet. I'm applying to jobs and still getting zero bites. The basement project is at a total stand still.<br />
<br />
I try to recognize things are in progress, I'm not stagnant nor have I relinquished anything-- in fact, I'm more productive in more areas in my life than anything else. And yet, I don't feel productive at all. Where are things going? How will I know when I get there? It's when I realize I have no answers to these questions, I notice that it is quite rare for me to have so much ambiguity. I should sit with it, learn to work with it, be where I am. But it's just so painful-- you cannot become productive by sitting in an unproductive state!<br />
<br />
I have no grand conclusion. I'm sitting in nowheres with no destination so there's no conclusion. I guess I was just sharing how it's a struggle to define yourself mid-changes. Why am I focused on productivity when clearly the things in my life cannot be measured that way? I'd change it but shit, that's the only clear and stable thing I have going for me right now. I feel like I'm clinging on for dear life to this idea of contributing to the world when I'm just surrounded by little things that prepare myself to change the world and letting go of the idea is terrifying. Where would I land? What if it's somewhere I don't like? I don't know if I can come back? Why isn't there a book called, "Get Your Shit Together" where it addresses all your big-life "What the fuck am I doing?" quarter of your life crises? It could be one of those books that sit on my shelf, becoming out of date in my life.<br />
<br />
I think I need a beta fish. So that when I go to sleep tonight wondering how I helped, how I was productive, I can just think, "Well, at least I fed that fish." Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-46585985843541766572013-02-19T13:51:00.001-05:002013-02-19T13:51:19.077-05:00Because Necrophilia is CoolBefore I start this post, I wanted to address the awesome-ness of an email I got this morning. I had a really rough night last night when my 18 page paper got kicked back, requiring a rewrite. That's never happened to me ever and after being built up to be all cocky with a 4.0 since I started grad school over 2 years ago, I was practically having panic attacks like those small children that cry about a B. Anyway, I consoled myself watching Lawless (which is an awesome movie, btw. I know it doesn't sound like much when you hear the plot but it is really good) and being upset about how I contribute nothing to anyone on the planet and fail at life. This morning, someone sent me an email saying thank you and that she was super appreciative of my level of involvement. It was short but very nice so let's all (including myself) try to remember the little things can make a big difference.<br />
<br />
ANYWAY!<br />
<br /> Because I'm sure you're perplexed by the post title and don't really care about the aforementioned stuff...<br />
<br />
I saw the new movie Warm Bodies in the theater on Sunday. I will warn you that this post is ripe with spoilers but unlike Lawless, the movie is really not all that great and since I predicted the plot when I walked in, I don't know if I'm ruining that much for you.<br />
<br />
The story takes place post-apocalypse and to entice all those apocalypse preppers, they never say what actually happened but now we're a generation later with a bunch of zombies running around. Some are "Bonies" which are zombies that have mostly decomposed and are beyond help but the rest are what you see in the traditional zombie movie/show. The story follows one zombie as he talks about being conflicted about eating people and wishes to be more alive. He can initially only speak limited words but his vocab, motor skills, complexion, heart functioning,... all that jazz improve upon meeting this human girl whom he immediately falls in love with. To add a new level, her dad is the big kahuna of the human city and behind this whole idea of a wall to keep out the zombies so we get a nice Romeo and Juliet flare in there. And then to add to the drama *envision the stereotypical drums bum-bum-BUUUUMMM*, the zombie ate the human girl's boyfriend's brains in order to experience his memories and learn about the girl.<br />
<br />
Just curious for anyone who has eaten animal brains-- do you have flashes where you envision yourself eating grass or something or is eating brains=getting memories a far creative leap?... Because it seems like a far creative leap.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the zombies start becoming more alive with seeing and experiencing human contact and the main character turns fully human and they live happily ever after. I know you didn't see that coming. So the title of the post comes from me seeing the two main characters kiss and I, of course, had to go to a different place with it. Even if he does come back to life, this is something that has been dead for several years. That doesn't bother you? This doesn't bother people in the audience? I mean, gay people getting married and having children is unnatural but having relations with a dead (or formerly dead) person is totally ok because it's heterosexual? Nobody notices this? Ok. And here I've heard how homosexuality is a slippery slope towards bestiality but nobody mentioned how heterosexuality was a slippery slope towards necrophilia. Sorry, I got sidetracked, but can we take a moment to acknowledge how ridiculous our culture can be?<br />
<br />
So here is where higher education takes a mundane movie with a waste of John Malkovich (he plays the angry father, protecting his daughter but I'm pretty sure that his appearances in the film could have all been phoned-in with is sad because he's awesome) and makes it something totally different with social commentary-- I read the film as talking about how technology has separated us from each other and made us zombies. I know that sounds silly but go with me on this:<br />
<ul>
<li>In the beginning of the movie, the main zombie talks about how we all used to be connected, surrounded by people and the film shows a flashback to now where everyone is on their cell phones, not directly interacting with anyone.</li>
<li>All the zombies have collected in the airport. The airport is a hub of technology and, in theory, is a place where a ton of cultures are mixed and exposed to each other but in reality, what are we all doing at the airport? We're in our own zone, looking at signs, being dehumanized through searches, and are essentially in a pissed off and anxious state, reaching out to no one.</li>
<li>The father is trying to wall his child away from zombies/technology but the child is naturally drawn outside the wall and can negotiate the gap between the communities, incorporating zombies/technology without becoming infected/isolated. </li>
<li>The biggest example is how human interaction/physical connection stems this outbreak of the zombies getting better. Upon the two main characters holding hands, the other zombies start remembering past lives, dreaming, and speaking more just as when we put down the phone, we let our mind wander and talk more to people.</li>
</ul>
There were other connections that I could make but essentially I started thinking about how technology plays a role in my existence. The email I received earlier today was a simple interaction with an acquaintance and wasn't absolutely necessary but made all the difference in defining my level of productivity and influence on others. To further trek down the irony trail, the email regarded how I'm using technology to connect people in my program. Without a doubt, technology is critical (even on days when it insists on pissing me off) but human connection is all the more essential to our experience as human beings.<br />
<br />
So here's my soapbox: put down the cell phone! Don't use your laptop for a day! There isn't the need to immediately look up ever answer on google on your phone! Be where you are! Focus on the people in front of you before you reach out to those far away through the interwebs!<br />
<br />
Unless the person in front of you is dead. Do not make out with that. That's the time to open an online dating account.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-42082377777585466572013-02-11T15:24:00.000-05:002013-02-11T15:24:23.731-05:00I'm Kicking Myself for Even Writing ThisFor anyone who has talked to me knows that I exclaim things as "communist" frequently.<br />
<br />
It's a joke and I mean nothing by it since I genuinely believe that communism does work for some people and the sociologist in me could sit here and explain how I think that Karl Marx's ideals were pretty solid in theory but the man needed to read some more Hobbes-- "man is selfish brute". Then there's also the fact that China has a much better economy than us now so you cannot argue that those commies aren't onto <i>something</i>. Also, the things I usually call communist are actually quite capitalist. BUT I won't go more into that. Moral of the story is, when I say something is communist, it is a freaking JOKE.<br />
<br />
Side note: Within the last week somebody took some sexist joke I wrote on Facebook as fact and wrote "smh" and such. First off, it's Facebook. All major business and government transactions are conducted on there for a reason... oh wait, NOTHING serious happens on Facebook? Oh maybe that's because it's not something to be taken super seriously. Ever. <i>And yes I recognize that my getting upset over this incident which occurred on Facebook is highly hypocritical which just pisses me off more so don't even bother pointing that out</i>. Second, anybody who has interacted with me for 5 minutes, I feel should get the clear picture that I do not take myself super seriously and therefore you should not either. Third, "smh" or "shake my head" is condescending anddd you're a dick. That fact that you try to "playfully" or "friendly" cover up your hardcore judging with a little "smh" not only shows me you're a dick for being judgmental, but you're also a dick who doesn't own up to being a judgmental dick, AND you're assuming I cannot pick up on your mad judgment making you, hmmm, A DICK.<br />
<br />
...A communist dick.<br />
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<br />
Moving along...<br />
<br />
So the only time I am not joking about the "c" word is the communist love day coming up this week. And the fact that I'm writing a post about it makes me feel like I'm fueling the importance and significance of this communist holiday and I'm not remotely a fan, hence why I'm kicking myself for even writing this.<br />
<br />
BUT REALLY THINK ABOUT IT. SHIT. IS. COMMUNIST.<br />
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You are forced to find a "love" which yes, we all love someone. I try not to be one of those shitty single people who advocates for "Single Awareness Day" which is exactly what it advertises- SAD (as in pathetic, not cute Eeyore) since I'm not a fan of this communist venture even in a relationship. Also I'm AWARE that as someone who is single, I can have the selection of my friends as my communist love day buddies or with more true desperation, I can exchange communist love with my parents. I'm afraid not people, they have equally communist mother's and father's day for that which I also do not like to participate in.<br />
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<i>Ironically, before I got on here to write this post, I saw something online that said something to the effect of "So what you're not in a relationship on ___ Day? It's the same as people who don't have a mother on Mother's Day or a father on Father's Day so get over it."</i><br />
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Oh really? Is that the way it should work? You're unhappy because all of society thinks you should be celebrating when really your feelings are as insignificant as the feelings of people with deceased parents on days designated for parents or all non-Christians on Christmas and Easter.<br />
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Oh, you weren't going to go there? Too far?<br />
<br />
Tough shit, get over it because it IS the same. You are being forced to celebrate showing love which I don't like because you should be doing this year-round and 1 day of being nice doesn't make up for 364 days of dicketry. And then you cannot just do your own thing. There's the communist aspect of you have to show your love a specific way that is tangible and measurable. Now I'm not even showing MY love, I'm showing SOCIETY'S love which just makes this forcible interaction all the more fake. Furthermore, it stresses people out whether they're doing enough, whether they don't fit into the traditional expression of love (because they're single), and then there's me who gets stressed because now I'm going to be eating shit for a week for not reciprocating in the forcible, societal scripts of you must jump off the cliff, *here* and like *this*.<br />
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And honestly, I'm not trying to be a negative nancy on this but <b>my true feeling is that when you send me something on/around this day, you did it because society told you to and I will not appreciate or receive the gift in the good intentions you sent it with.</b><br />
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Similar to sending a Christmas gift to a Jewish friend or saying, "Happy Thanksgiving" to a Native American, you may just be happy and in good spirits which is fabulous but it's a demonstration that my beliefs or experiences are not respected in mainstream culture nor even within the people closest to me. I'm not saying that this communist love day should be eliminated (although, hey, I wouldn't complain if it did) since I recognize it gives so many other people happiness. I'm just saying, there's really no need to include me and I would really appreciate if you respected my choice to not participate.<br />
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I will end this piece by acknowledging that I may be biased by the fact that I think roses smell like unholy shit and cheap chocolates taste like crap. If you truly need to include me in your communist practices, send salt my way, preferably in the form of UTZ Ripple Cut Sour Cream & Onion Chips (yes, ripple cut DOES make a difference). If you send some of those chips my way, you will definitely get some uncommunist lovin'.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-35378665458254347142013-02-05T21:17:00.001-05:002013-02-05T21:45:22.406-05:00Let's Have a Come to Jimmy MomentYou guys, it's time to address it. I know it's something that's been eating at us all and we frequently lose sleep over it-- whether you sit for hours pondering <i>why</i> or wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare about it. Then there are those times when you're hanging out with friends are they are all laughing and you just sit there thinking, "How can they laugh?" Then you cannot even focus on work and you go into the bathroom and cry heavy sobs... it's time to talk about this, people...<br />
<br />
Jimmy Buffett<br />
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Specifically his song, "Escape" which is better known as the Pina (just imagine the little ~ over the n because I don't know how to make it on the computer) Colada song.<br />
<br />
For those of you living under the rock for the last 30 years, the song is this guy describing how he is tired of his dull marriage and sees a personal ad saying, "If you like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain; if you're not into yoga and you have half a brain; if you like making love at midnight on the dunes of the cape, then I'm the love that you're looking for. Write to me and escape." <i>Side note: yes, I write song lyrics using proper grammar. Get over it.</i><br />
<br />
So, the guy responds that he likes those things and decides to meet up with this woman and run away with her. Turns out it's his wife and they fall in love all over again.<br />
<br />
Now, don't get me wrong. I have a strong affection for some pina coladas and do not consider it beneath myself to belt this song when it happens to be playing and I'm drinking. I'll even sing it when I'm drinking something that ISN'T a pina colada. Blasphemous, I know.<br />
<br />
And it may be my marriage and family therapist bias, but when I <i>actually</i> listened to the lyrics, I thought, "The fuck is wrong with these people?!" Seriously, you are bored in your marriage, and instead of, you know, talking to each other or maybe getting therapy, you select adultery and running away with someone you met because their personal ad was witty and rhymed as your life choice. Really?!<br />
<br />
I'm dead serious, this song bothers me. Don't judge me, you know it's messed up too.<br />
<br />
Another popular song that gets under my skin (and I DO NOT sing it) is "We Are Young" by Fun..<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Give me a second, I need to get my story straight. My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State. My lover, she is waiting for me just across the bar. My seat's been taken by some sunglasses asking 'bout a scar and I know I gave it to you months ago. I know you're trying hard to forget but between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies, you know I'm trying hard to take it back. So if by the time the bar closes and you feel like falling down, I'll carry you home...</i></blockquote>
And the song goes on to talk about how let's get wasted and party because we're young and someone needs to carry my ass home because I'm not perfect and have a severe alcohol problem that requires me to be carried home. And because this song was about partying, the song made top 40 and was played excessively, especially in bars.<br />
<br />
... Meanwhile I looked around thinking, "Really? This doesn't strike a chord for anyone? We're all ok with idolizing this song? Really? Ok."<br />
<br />
Like, the guy cannot even follow through with a solid apology for drunk-indused abuse. Shit is SAD.<br />
<br />
With a combination of being a sociology major, which ponders how media reflects and influences our culture, and a human sexuality major, where we for some reason have many conversations on how our behaviors look ridiculous to people in other cultures, my brain goes off on this tangent of "What the hell will future generations think of the shenanigans we produce?"<br />
<br />
I mean, Dusty Springfield talked about losing her virginity outside a church to preacher's son back in 1968 (a delightfully sacrilegious song) but it was consensual-- come on, who could say no to Billy-Ray?<br />
<br />
But that's kinda of what the 60's were about. free love, civil rights, bomb Vietnam, defile the alley behind the church with the preacher's son and/or daughter! ... What? The 60s didn't have that last one? Well, there was still religious defilement from John Lennon who pretty much defined the 60s and he was in music so it still works.<br />
<br />
It's also interesting to consider looking at male and female relational roles through history. I had to read a 30+ page paper on it for class last semester and there's no damn way that I'm rewriting that shit here... I also didn't retain the information enough to do so. The moral of the story was, relationships and gender roles tend to reflect the economy and various religious movements (mainly the movements of monotheistic, or one-god, societies conquering polytheistic communities). For example, before the Roman Empire really took off, they had a more male-dominated and possibly monotheistic religion. Then they started conquering all these other little communities that were farmers. The little farmers weren't banned together or really used to fighting so they fell. Also being farmers, they were into a more nature-based religion with multiple elemental gods where the seasons resembled birth and life (and death if you didn't watch yourself). Women were as valued in the culture as men because they resembled the main goddess, nature-- women give birth and life and if you didn't watch yourself, death. So the Romans come in saying, "Oh HEEEELLLL NO! We're not having these women trying to be <i>doing</i> shit." but they also wanted the communities to passively be taken over and not revolt. Solution? Zeus just got hitched to a lesser female god (reinforcing than heterosexism, there) and brought her fire and water and such posse to live with them.<br />
<br />
Now, the research on this sounded flimsy but, like, consider King Henry the VIII (<i>yea, I'm going to type "the" in there even though it's highly unnecessary. Get over it. I mean, why do we SAY it and not WRITE it? English is stupid</i>). That economy was based on the monarchy, put-a-dick-in-charge system. So now women's roles were to have <i>men</i> (because she can help that and all) and her products are more valuable than her life (<i>products, economy, get it?</i>). And, well, that didn't pan out too well for a lot of women and the whole male system built around the woman being screwed up because she was jacking the dick-in-charge system.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I was going to continue down that tangent but point is, economy = gender roles.<br />
<br />
Then when we apply sociological understanding of media we get: media depictions of adultery and abuse and Nicki Minaj = our economy is getting beaten up by drunken lying donkey witches who we cannot understand why we keep giving money to because they're just going to run off and start anew. Ok, I threw Nicki Minaj in there because I cannot stand her. The one good thing about that person is that it gives me hope because you don't have to be good at something to get a shit ton of money.<br />
<br />
We need to tell Jimmy Buffett to stop, people, or he can sing a song about how he sought therapy from me. I am down for either.<br />
<br />
... I could also go for some pina coladas but I may abuse someone... probably Nicki Minaj.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKqMzYwrMb47XKHiqXPq0SHIZVnWAocIKBIt5tQCf9bD2yUD-epvshWtv960muE7GmLP_yXTnU0ZGwEWz6g0axazjpEWED0NBQq7l4Wz_jQZefZRc4FCTjPylKXiN-DZMDO7e71R440E/s1600/MaggieSimpson2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKqMzYwrMb47XKHiqXPq0SHIZVnWAocIKBIt5tQCf9bD2yUD-epvshWtv960muE7GmLP_yXTnU0ZGwEWz6g0axazjpEWED0NBQq7l4Wz_jQZefZRc4FCTjPylKXiN-DZMDO7e71R440E/s200/MaggieSimpson2.jpg" width="141" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also, we need to ban the bottle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-55371574580204263072013-01-29T16:46:00.001-05:002013-01-29T23:04:29.853-05:00Behold, the Power of OatmealIt's f-ing cold.<br />
<br />
And while my <i>still</i> unemployed self usually reverts to cereal for lunch, it is cold and I would sometimes just go hungry until dinner in order to circumnavigate cold cereal and milk. I know this is super unhealthy for you, <i>I know</i>. But while brainstorming hot, fast, easy meals that did not include fast food, I realized my Dad eats instant oatmeal everyday. Well, my food palette is mildly expanding, maybe I should check this out. I bought a variety pack and have yet to open it. BUT IT'S THERE. I am prepped to try!<br />
<br />
I also got conned into buying a set from my favorite makeup brand which led me to be in possession of an oatmeal cleansing face mask. I used to be SUPER uncomfortable having things (including myself) touching my face... and, for the record, I'm still not comfortable with other people touching my face <b>PLEASE DON'T TOUCH MY FACE</b>... Anyway, I also failed epically at my one other attempt at a face mask because my clumsy self forgot that the goop needs to sit there and I'd put my hand in it while brushing away a hair or something. I tried to convince the sales associate that I was just simply too special for a face mask but again, I got conned. Fast forward to a couple of days later because it took me a couple of days to amp myself up, "Ok, Lauren, your skin sucks and it's time to try big girl things and/or things to help remedy the suck of your skin." I applied it, contemplating the new role of oatmeal in my life, then sat at my computer to play games, hoping they would distract me, anddd proceeded to put my hand directly in the goop. There's a heavy sigh (which is recreated as I type this) as I recognize things have not changed and while I may be open to try new and/or girly things, I will never be that typical girl who has not only mastery in these self-care shenanigans, but ENJOYS them... which then means that if I kept up this practice, it will forever be a chore of me trying to NOT touch my face for 10 minutes and then getting water absolutely everywhere as I try to wash the crap off "thoroughly".<br />
<br />
Finally, last night, I'm slathering on my ridiculous lotion (as in it works ridiculously well but also costs a ridiculous amount) which is free of everything-- parabens, fragrance, other shit I've never heard of-- and I thought, "If this shit has none of all this crap, what DOES it have that makes it so awesome?" Oatmeal. I mean, special oatmeal but shit you not, I've been rubbing oatmeal on myself. Which just sounds ridiculous when you think of it in that manner.<br />
<br />
But that leads me into the main message of my post.<br />
<br />
For those of you who haven't talked to me extensively or haven't picked up on my previous posts (as few and far between as they are-- I know, I fail so much at this blogging game), I've been dropping the ball on a lot of my past goals and have been moping around like a disillusioned Eeyore. Side note: if anybody finds a tail, it probably fell off my ass because I pretty much feel like I cannot keep my shit together.<br />
<br />
I try to think that I should go back and re-work my <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/08/bucket-list.html">Bucket List</a> but the things I'd like to see carried through are intangible and are tough to list as "I'd like ___ done. Boom."<br />
<br />
For example, I listed several career-related stuff such as becoming a licensed MFT in 2 two years (which as that takes a minimum of 2 years and I wrote that back in August, file that under not happening) and/or returning to work in the mental health field. I've also written posts <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/12/what-i-learned-in-school-today.html">describing my disillusionment with my degree</a>. When I read books surrounding therapy, I become exhausted and wind up applying the information to research but when I read for my research, I get amped up, eager to get started on life and my career.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I also have to share this story. As I, again, wrote in the previous post and in my newsletter and have complained to several people and... I spend many moments of my day glaring at my marriage and family therapy degree. Not only because the degree is in Harry Potter-shitting Latin, but because I'm just not happy at all with the degree. Almost as if my incredible hate shifted the paper in the frame, the diploma became loose and fell in the frame a few weeks ago, sending me into a whole new level of "You are just determined to piss me off, aren't you?!" And out of spite, I let the degree sit for another week or two in its frame, mocking me. Finally, I took a deep breath, and pulled the frame down and fixed the paper back into position. I'm sure I cursed the whole time but now the degree is back up.</blockquote>
</blockquote>
Earlier today, I was again, getting excited for my career in BDSM and sexuality research and started to consider applying for research jobs in any field, and just abandoning the clinical internships and positions route. In an automatic reaction, I look at my degree for the umpteenth time exhausted with the thought, "Why the fuck did I get that degree?" I continued to read the clinical track book I was required to get for multicultural class thinking that the educational track people were missing out on some solid information. And it dawns on me-- if I had not gotten the clinical degree that I've been spitefully glaring at, I would not have been allowed to take the clinical track which is encouraged for researchers and research-minded people.<br />
<br />
I think that when the degree slid in its frame, it was reflecting the fall my genuine pursuit in therapy. I've been clutching onto these efforts for months because I felt I had to but honestly, it hasn't been whole-hearted because it's not my calling. Many people have admired me for knowing what I wanted to do since I was in high school but I'm coming forth and admitting, I am not made to be a therapist. I am made to be a researcher who knows the reach of research as it is applied in therapy. My education has been therapy-focused and my career will be research-focused with therapy mindfulness and it's with this acceptance of this role, I was able to be respectful of my Harry Potter degree and hang it back in its decent form.<br />
<br />
<b>If it wasn't for you, La Salle degree, I'd be sitting here reading some shit on how to educate children and for that, I am extremely grateful.</b><br />
<br />
And with that, I have accomplished an intangible goal: <b>appreciate my therapy degree</b>. No, I haven't come back to a love of therapy, which is what I was strongly hoping for, but I've made it. Through wondering why the hell I'm a high school math tutor with a masters in psychology (seriously, the shit makes zero sense) and opening myself up to the possibilities, I have truly found the oatmeal of life-- those little things that are connected through your existence and you have no idea why the hell they are there until you open your mind to them changing your life and taking you on a scary journey.<br />
<br />
Be where you are. Embrace the oatmeal... and then rub it on your face.Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-20871876270380272002012-12-12T13:09:00.001-05:002012-12-12T13:09:20.178-05:0050 Shades of BorrrrrriiiinnnnggggEveryone and my mom have recommended that I read 50 Shades of Grey for reasons... I don't know, actually.<br />
<br />
It's ironic that no one understands why I don't have any interest in reading the books (minus the people in my human sexuality program-- and for that, I love them so, so, so much) and I'm sitting there thinking, "Why the fuck would I WANT to read them?"<br />
<br />
A similar situation happened with Twilight except it was less extreme because Twilight doesn't involve BDSM (actually, it qualifies as a straight-up abusive relationship but I try not to go into that with the women who are queer for this "romance"... seriously sounds like a Freudian problem though). With both series, women will introduce the books as being total crap writing but having some wonderful plot or perk of containing sex.<br />
<br />
Ok, first and foremost, there's this thing called the Internet and the most highly searched term is "sex" quickly followed by "porn" and "free porn". Alright, you don't want to go into searching Internet porn and having it on your history, risking get a virus, seeing something you can never unsee, and potentially crashing your computer. I get that. But a) that doesn't mean that all of us what to navigate shit writing to access sexytime and b) if you use this reason for reading Twilight or 50 Shades, you're done judging people who do watch Internet pornography. You're either done or you're a hypocrite.<br />
<br />
Second, I'm in a human sexuality program. I don't need the excuse of reading crap to access sexual material plus I like to think that my sexuality is not solely accessed through reading high school drama.<br />
<br />
Which brings me to another point-- everyone claims to hate high school-level drama (here is where we could insert the random tirade of whoever tries to claim to hate high school-esque drama is full of shit because they are usually the purveyor of said drama) soooooo why would I want to read it? Even if it does have sex in it, wouldn't I want to access something that doesn't have the drama attached? Oh wait, that's porn. There's no drama in porn... just sex (See? That free Internet porn is looking better and better, isn't it?).<br />
<br />
Finally, what the hell do you do when you read this shit for the sex? I mean, I know what people do when they watch porn (I even know what you're doing if you're watching porn in a human sexuality class-- analyzing the behavior and your emotional response). But what do you do when you read drama-filled sex? Do you really sit there envious? Are do you walk away frustrated with your sex and/or relationship because your partner is not some abusive dick protecting you?<br />
<br />
<i>Side point: you know that enjoying an overprotective dick for a partner is like feeding misogyny, right? Can we just put that out there? You actually want to be lesser/incompetent beings. Seriously, there's no other way of slicing this-- you are advocating and swooning over patriarchal themes that you KNOW are written badly. And by further reading this crap for the sex rather than just going out and having sex or outwardly activating your sexuality through pornography, you're continuing the gender stereotypes that maintain a misogynistic culture. Just throwing it out there.</i><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOM9CIhmFXGSrrO_6BaD6xkNudbJIVdPwNZPRsGe0nNWWnjI5Wj60WzohMop_TZXoYol7JgRCeIJHfxrfCY3cHtIwbI6uKt67OjfaKa4FAHfZwOH3PH1yo1s7Jmr0QDB1sYLersxIZnU/s1600/484257_804053917659_1925607510_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOM9CIhmFXGSrrO_6BaD6xkNudbJIVdPwNZPRsGe0nNWWnjI5Wj60WzohMop_TZXoYol7JgRCeIJHfxrfCY3cHtIwbI6uKt67OjfaKa4FAHfZwOH3PH1yo1s7Jmr0QDB1sYLersxIZnU/s320/484257_804053917659_1925607510_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty much.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And men are guilty of the book recommending nightmare that I experience too. Several guys have suggested I read the Game of Thrones series. First off, the TV show is epic-- why do I need to read 700+ pages a book to re-ingest the same material? Second, the shit is 700+ pages a book-- file that under not fucking happening. Third, my big struggle when reading Shakespeare (besides being written in ridiculous) was that I couldn't keep track of the characters, especially if I couldn't pronounce the names. So people became their first initial, "Ok, that's P-something." Then after about 4 Fs on quizzes, I realize there are 3 different P-somethings. No wonder the shit didn't make sense. And while watching the show, I've joked around with my friend that they needed to slap name tags on these people which includes all their nicknames. Like poor Peter Dinklage. Everyone in the show is a dick to him and calls him "the Imp" and that's all I know him as. And then you have about 12 hot brown-haired males approximately in the their 20s and half of them are some dead dude's bastard son. I cannot keep up with that shit. Moral of the story-- how am I supposed to keep up with these people when reading if I don't have the visual information of what the person looks like?<br />
<br />
I'm not reading Twilight, 50 Shades of Bullshit, or Game of Thrones. You know what I read? I read articles for my dissertation or books to improve myself as a therapist.<br />
<br />
Because of this, I noticed a couple months ago that there isn't a single thing I read that I do not take notes on. It is exhausting and makes reading even less enjoyable than previously thought (which is saying something because I cannot stand reading, it takes too long-- which actually should be the primary reason why I wouldn't read any of these series). So I decided I needed to start reading information that is completely and totally useless but interesting enough to hold my attention. The only other subject that has ever held my attention for an extended period of time was serial killers (I used to want to be a criminal psychologist). So, after some digging around online, I found a book that was written by a criminologist but watered-down enough so that I'd understand it since I've never taken a criminology course.<br />
<br />
I've gotten through the book impressively fast for me and as of last night, I don't want to read it anymore (but I've got 30 pages left, so I'm going to power through it). Most chapters I'd finish reading in one night and then would think, "What the hell was that chapter about?" The whole thing is written in stream of consciousness and doesn't go into details on many things. Further, the book is repetitive and somewhat dramatic in places. The straw that broke the camels back that made me totally done with the book was a paragraph I read last night which gave very incorrect information. I became so mad that I was able to call this well-renowned author and criminologist on his bullshit in a topic I know nothing about.<br />
<br />
But that's when I realized-- I don't think I can read anything but the things I take copious notes on or find challenging. I just have no patience or respect for it which fueled me to post this explanation to everyone whom INSIST I need to read certain series.<br />
<br />
I'm still looking forward to that book on Ed Gein, though. Crazy bastard.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUa7rq1pXWWZ3oCTPLBi2dEr2eBPPW_v9ElPVSKvR1UWQ1s1-_50EP1BdFxjM-ofb-Nd5UFUMC4iG1wtGNoEdAm9jBvNcnH3GwP-sC3Cxz795CJ-rLIFb0091ytb_3y7D8pq6L0UvZbVk/s1600/Heart_Tree.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUa7rq1pXWWZ3oCTPLBi2dEr2eBPPW_v9ElPVSKvR1UWQ1s1-_50EP1BdFxjM-ofb-Nd5UFUMC4iG1wtGNoEdAm9jBvNcnH3GwP-sC3Cxz795CJ-rLIFb0091ytb_3y7D8pq6L0UvZbVk/s640/Heart_Tree.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plus, a book nor my imagination has this level of foxiness, rendering it boring.</td></tr>
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<br />Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-74037623042734011072012-12-10T00:57:00.002-05:002012-12-10T00:57:50.263-05:00What I Learned in School Today...Before I get started on my post, I have to laugh because I just watched 50/50 with Foxy McFoxerson more commonly known as Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I laughed because I remembered my last post referenced The Help and since neither of those audience group overlap beyond myself, I'll just let you know now that the girlfriend in 50/50 was the woman who got a lot of used commodes on her lawn in The Help. My other thought on 50/50 was that they cannot cast such a hot man as lead role because when his girlfriend cheats on him and no women in the bars are interested in him, it's far-fetched and unbelievable. Also really makes you hate that bitch from The Help.<br />
<br />
ANYWAY! Go see the movie, it stemmed those "What would I do if my life were ending soon?" thoughts I covered in a <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/09/sorry-and-other-things-that-matter.html">previous post</a> so I won't hash that stuff out again.<br />
<br />
Onto this post--<br />
<br />
Earlier today, I was dishing out my advice which is becoming more and more fleeting and my friend, whom was listening, remarked, "And this is what she does as a therapist." I laughed and automatically responded, "Honestly, the techniques I learned have been super helpful in my social life but otherwise, the degree was useless." It was laughed off as a joke but I was really struck by what I had just said. That was the truth. Like, more honest than I have been with myself truth. And it was entirely unprovoked.<br />
<br />
The last few weeks I have been truly disappointed with my masters. I thought this was the easier route to a job than human sexuality and that the information would help me leaps and bounds on how to work with couples. As I'm applying to couples therapist jobs, I recognize that there is a good chance I will screw myself over in another interview because I don't know dick shit about couple therapy. Even some of the marriage and family therapy models are fading in my memories as they were never commit to my brain for tests. I have couple therapy books I'm about to read because it's required for one of my spring courses in my doctorate but I cannot help but wonder, "Then why did I get that degree again?"<br />
<br />
I've been searching for some meaning to satisfy my questions as to why I just spent 2 years and a shit-ton of money for credentials I don't even bother to put at the end of my signature. It was my statement today that I recognized, "Maybe the only point was to learn those techniques, grow as a person, and keep walking through life." So what did I walk away with?<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>don't give advice</li>
</ul>
<br />
It would be interesting to sum-up how much of my life I have spent doling out free advice whether the person asked for the advice or not. What would add a new layer of depressing to it would be to compare to the sum number of times someone followed through on that advice. Ironically, learning this reality has made receiving unsolicited advice all the more infuriating. I want to give the advice to the person to take there advice and stuff it in their fucking holiday turkey.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>sit on it</li>
</ul>
<br />
In connection to the above, there's frequently a time when I want to say something, but I've learned to just sit on it. In the past, I felt that this was dishonest and would eventually share what is on my mind. I'm still not sure if it is dishonest, but there has truly been times when saying something allowed social interactions to continue to be painless for everyone involved. There is a time and place for everything-- sit on something if you feel you should even if it seems like your head will explode.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>reframe</li>
</ul>
<br />
Reframing things for myself has become my saving grace. I'm not sure if it gives me excuses (except when I reason procrastination as "self care"-- that's definitely just excuses) but I also know that it has helped me to sort of pack things away in my mind and help me sleep at night.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>my gut is on point</li>
</ul>
<br />
I have a sixth sense for the most bizarre things-- peg the occasional exact line of a chick flick or criminal minds episode; knowing if I will attend a social event or not (ie will the other person bail); etc. I've also gotten more in touch with my internal reactions which allows me to muse over things until I fully understand why I'm having certain internal expression happening.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>the most childish things are unfortunately the most helpful things</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
Why do we teach kids to count to ten or take deep breaths when angry? Why did we practice simpleton "I *feeling*" statements in 6th grade? Why do we harp on kids to make a colorful schedule of their activities? Because the shit works. I've started practicing these things in life and every time I get a little frustrated that the methods work and I haven't been doing them since I was 5, when they were originally taught to me.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>take the victory when you can and just because you didn't take it yesterday, doesn't mean you cannot today. Don't wait, just do it.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
Be where you are. Carpe the fucking diem. You're human and you're not perfect so take what you can get and if you get more of it, awesome, take that too.<br />
<br />
And when all else fails, assemble your thoughts into words because while you may have a faint picture of what you learned in your masters which is collecting dust, memories fade like pictures but words are concrete and once they are said or written, the imprint is made and you can continue to remind yourself with a simple list of why you bothered with the degree. You did not know these things without the experience that provided this information and for that, the experience was worth it... even if it doesn't find you a job.<br />
Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-55042848447065574272012-12-03T22:56:00.000-05:002012-12-03T23:05:32.682-05:00Touché, Falls Churchian, TouchéFor the record, I'm not a politics person. I'm just generally not a fan of talking politics because a) I'm not a politician and I try not to be serious talking about something I don't know seriously anything about and b) I'm probably not going to change someone else's mind anytime soon so why the hell bother and c) I study sex-- I just have better and more interesting things to talk about that I'm BEAST talking about.<br />
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Having said that, this is a political-ish post.<br />
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For those of you who don't know, Falls Church is a city that is so far up it's own ass it's also a county... a 2.1 square mile county. Every one and their mom works for the government in someway and most people have more money than they know what to do with.<br />
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When my grandfather (and then my mom and then my dad and then me) moved into Falls Church, it was the not-so-hot-shit it still is but people are unwilling to admit. But that's how <i>we</i> got in and managed to be in the same home for 24 years and have, in that time, erected an old horse-pulled John Deere mower in the front lawn (which now has it's own little friend-- a scoop! So exciting). I was the redneck in high school despite my best efforts to purposefully blast Rob Zombie out my car while I run over 5 popular kids every day I left school. We were <i>those</i> people with the extra classy lawn around the corner from our neighbors with the 365 Christmas lights in their front tree (there's a definite possibility that there's something in the water).<br />
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But on my way to Panera today, I saw that we have been trumped for most unclassy yard-- someone had placed a toilet in their front yard with a sign above stating "Flush right wing, tea parties, and young guns". Being a true Virginian, I proceeded to exclaim, "What the hell?! Are we in West Virginia?!" and then on my way back, I slowed to a crawl just to make sure, <b>yes, someone ACTUALLY is trying to make a political statement with a shitter in their yard</b>. At this point, I stated (to myself, mind you, because I've officially gone around the bend being unemployed), "What? Were they inspired by 'The Help'?!" Ok, maybe I was working on that while waiting for my sandwich...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mRYQgbUjP753dLMQuwVWYxGGogeJtMKcQAc5nSWUCHitTrUhrFbpw_uA1J4-cKUNuzUsh7r4u3S1vtnLP0SNQl5AFdUtslrEgf_OLBh0UjIhy3hQJizbe10ijJM4V01_sZu6dkDkRDU/s1600/the-help-toilets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mRYQgbUjP753dLMQuwVWYxGGogeJtMKcQAc5nSWUCHitTrUhrFbpw_uA1J4-cKUNuzUsh7r4u3S1vtnLP0SNQl5AFdUtslrEgf_OLBh0UjIhy3hQJizbe10ijJM4V01_sZu6dkDkRDU/s320/the-help-toilets.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scene from <i>The Help</i>-- too much to explain. Go see the movie. It's hilarious and because I have a major girl-crush on Emma Stone</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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BUT SERIOUSLY. This baffled me. Being only about a month since the elections, we all have it fresh in our minds the stupid, obscene, excessive, and confusing lengths people will go to make their political voices heard.<br />
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And I really don't get it.<br />
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This person was just the prime example because, really, what was your thought process? You're sitting on the toilet and thing, "Porcelain throne, you were meant for better things. Instead of TAKING shit, I think you should be out there GIVING shit! A really empowering statement that will change the way my neighbors think about me." I mean, if you were aiming to change the way your neighbors thought about you, mission fucking accomplished because I used to just see your house as one on the way to Panera but now I know a batshit crazy liberal lives there.<br />
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I guess part of my alarm was what my neighborhood is-- we have multi-million dollar mcmansions being built around us all the time and amidst the holiday season, you expect lawn decorations. But a toilet? Total curveball.<br />
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Continuing my Panera-aromatic ride home, I continued to puzzle, "Why the hell do people feel it necessary to make a big damn deal about their political beliefs?" You really cannot keep your shit[ter] to yourself? And then I remembered that I, too, put some political things on my wall, usually in a joking manner, but all very clearly anti-people against civil rights. I immediately tried to rationalize, "But that's because I care and know about those topics passionately." And if this person passionately care about those things, how is it different from me passive aggressively stating my viewpoints. I walked up to the steps of my house humbled because I finally started to understand a little more why some people choose to be stupid, obscene, excessive, and confusing in broadcasting their beliefs.<br />
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I was also humbled that we were no longer the trashiest lawn in all of Falls Church. Seriously, a toilet in your yard?Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8535918747649387121.post-19795201876018840892012-11-13T17:19:00.001-05:002012-11-13T17:19:30.231-05:00Once Again, Misfortune Has Humped My LegYes, we're starting off dramatic this bucket list update, but I just love that quote from Reno 911!<br />
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This is the part where I would reference the 6 other obscure pop culture references but I'll refrain.<br />
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Call me weird, but, I have always found something hopeful or positive about that quote. It's not "fuck my life" or "I want to shoot myself"-- 2 phrases I'm becoming known for as well-- "misfortune" doesn't sound as bad as "bad luck" or "sadness" and I feel that being humped in the leg implies that it will end at some point. I don't know, just my thoughts.<br />
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ANYWAY! We're updating on the <a href="http://bewhereyouare87.blogspot.com/2012/08/bucket-list.html">Bucket List</a> today as I have been inevitably slacking on this stuff and updating peoples. It's almost the end of 2012-- insane, right? But then that means another milestone on the bucket list is approaching and I'm breaking a sweat a little bit as some things will not be done.<br />
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So, recap: Everything to be accomplished by the time I left Philly was except finishing that textbook for my doctorate. The gender chapter threw me for a loop as I got bored and/or pissed off every 5 sentences and eventually gave up reading. Fortunately, the chapters that were required for the course, were all the chapters leading up to gender and a couple others were optional so, I lucked out there. Probably will be the first sexuality book I sell too-- it was just terrible. All the rest I've kept as references but I really don't need 4 basic human sexuality textbooks-- 3's good.<br />
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Moving onto things by the end of 2012:<br />
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<ul>
<li><b>Have the basement mostly done.</b></li>
</ul>
Well, if I keep up the pace I'm going at, it should be but who knows. Some time in October, I really lost momentum. I think it's because I thought being unemployed and all, I would get the basement done by the end of September- end of October at the latest- and could have the place decked out with some fantastic Halloween goodness. Well, that didn't happen. The basement is still mostly a hot mess and I'm getting discouraged easily which causes less work to get done, then even more discouragement. It's a bad cycle but we'll see what we can do.<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Build a piece of furniture I have designed from scratch.</b></li>
</ul>
It's funny how in the original post I have written "hopefully, I'll have 4 done"-- Yea. Right. Not happening. One will get done, especially if you count my closet build-out which is in progress of being a post on the other blog.<br />
<ul>
<li><b><strike>Start another blog for my DIY escapades illustrating the previous 2</strike>.</b></li>
</ul>
This has gotten done! Exciting! There's 2 posts over on <a href="http://diyshenanigans.blogspot.com/">Impatient, OCPD, and Clumsy</a> even thought they're over a month old now. But again--there's closet building fun coming soon!<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Lose 5 pounds.</b></li>
</ul>
Confession: I haven't been to the gym in 2 months. I guess I was spoiled by the new equipment, new building, friendly staff, smoothie bar, convenient location of the Philly LA Fitness. The one down here is... well... none of those things. The exercise bikes aren't plugged in (they're like little decorative chachkies, the building is 2 levels, has no smoothie bar, few machine sanitizer stations, the weight machines increase in 15 lb increments, and the pool has been taped off with crime tape every time I went there the first month and a half I moved back to Falls Church. So, today, being sick of paying for a gym I'm not going to, I went to go cancel my membership and then I was going to head over to the fancy, new 24 Fitness that just opened (new, closer, bigger, 24/7-- all Martha Stewart aka "good things"). I tell them I wanted to cancel and gave the reason that there's one that's closer and 24/7 (excluding the details that their gym blew) and he said, "Ok. And since you paid for you first and last months when you joined, your membership ends on January 5th." I looked at him, surprised, "What? No. I want the membership to end now. Can I get my money back or can you apply that to the last 2 months when I haven't been here?" "No ma'am, sorry." I glared at him, "I don't like that." There's a pause before he says, "I can tell."<br />
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That is the third fucking place that made me pay for "first and last month" and then when I go to leave, they're like, "Oh wait, you're still stuck here for another 2 months." You. bitches. No means no. I want to leave and I want to leave now. I feel like my wallet has been roofied and I find out months later that my wallet has the STD of being stuck at this shitty gym for another 2 months! Now, I know I could go start at the other gym today, regardless, but that seems like wasting money! Not only have I blown the last 2 months of membership (which I'm more ashamed of than not losing weight/being healthy) but I'm not blowing these last 2 that I have to take! Fuck. That. Sorry, I'm still so pissed off by that. I mean, honestly, that is the most bullshit shit that has ever been pulled. Why do businesses do that?! What a bunch of assholes!<br />
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Ok, sorry. I could and probably will go on verbally but I got pissed (in case you didn't notice). Anyway, yea, I haven't lost 5 pounds.<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Get on top of the focusing problems and</b> <b>find another general practitioner.</b></li>
</ul>
Yea, I haven't done this. And the focusing problems are getting worse. If I get this job I'm waiting to hear back from, I'll definitely be needing to be doing this ASAP!<br />
<b> </b><br />
And the misfortune comes in here- I've actually gotten more done on my long-term goals than my short term ones.<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Study the shit out of BDSM and other topics on my own without being prompted by Widener.</b></li>
</ul>
I've done so much reading about BDSM recently, it's not even ridiculous. I mean, it is ridiculous but I guess in a good way. And technically it's all towards my dissertation so Widener hasn't told me to read this stuff... yet. But when they do, it will, in theory, go against this goal of not being told... but whatever.<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Be a licensed MFT.</b></li>
</ul>
So, this is actually closer to happening than anything else. I've applied to about 40 jobs and only about 3 have contacted me back with a "No, try again!" It's like the damn lottery. BUT I did apply to this one job providing in-home therapy for at-risk teens which has fabulous benefits and would give me supervision towards licensure. It was one of those jobs I was hoping wouldn't call back but did and I think I'm going to take it if it's offered. I'm waiting to hear back for an interview so we'll see.<br />
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And that's all! I mean, the final goal was to keep you guys informed and... done. So, I'm out!<b><br /></b>Rolo Telmasihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04539040604864923261noreply@blogger.com0