Facebook--The Limp, Smelly, "Special" Puppy that Pees All Over Your Carpet

I'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 context.

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?

That, to me, is Facebook.

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.

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.

From this, my friends are highly educated, very angry and active, feminists with the occasional really conservative Christian viewpoint.

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.

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.

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?

This is 85-90% (depends on my mood) of what I want to use Facebook for.

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.

0-5% of the time, I want political, well-written, opinion pieces on what's going on in the world.

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.

For example, in the last 4 hours people have posted about the following:
-selfie (nothing unique)
-the systematic ignoring of Black issues
-cat photo
-the unfortunate appearance of creationism (at the expense of evolution) in education
-yet another "unbelievable" a cappella cover of "Let It Go"
-yet another "unbelievable" a cappella cover of "Cups"
-yet another "unbelievable" a cappella... I believe it. People can sing better than me. Not like that bar is very high
-public pools urine content (gross)
-cat photo
-comparisons of the Confederate flag to the Nazi flag
-comparisons of the Confederate flag to the Pride flag
-will Jon Snow come back to Game of Thrones (he won't, let it go)?
-condoms that change color in contact with STIs
-the social implications of a condom that changes color in contact with STIs
-selfie (nothing unique)
-what happens when you're drunk
-sex education expansion in certain states
-sex education reduction in certain states
-you "won't believe" how this dog takes care of this cat
-you "won't believe" how this lion remembers its human owner
-you "won't believe"... again, I believe it. Trans-species relationships have been a things since this time called forever
-people for Bernie Sanders
-people for Hilary Clinton
-people against Donald Trump
-cat photo
-people raising awareness for rape culture
-selfie (in a historical location)
-the Charleston shootings
-the racial implications of the Charleston shootings
-superhero corgi cookies
-Philadelphia parking nightmares
-selfie (nothing unique)
-Malcolm X quotes
-Martin Luther King, Jr. quotes
-other random inspirational quotes from famous people of color
-why White people should never post quotes from people of color
-dog photo
-supporting the relentlessly gay fund
-arguing that the relentlessly gay fund was a hoax
-hoaxes inspired by the relentlessly gay fund
-20 child photos
-Caps opener is October 10th at the Devils (boooo Devils!)
-cat photo

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.

Which is a shame, because the article has a valid concern.

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.

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.

I would also like to acknowledge that this post has contributed nothing to people's understanding of what is going on in my life.

2015 Goals

This 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.

Here's the list. Don't judge me on some things.

1. learn about cars
2. get involved in CARAS
3. create a class
4. wear heels for 14 hours total
5. get involved in SSSS
6. cook through recipes
7. treat yo'self!
8. sell some stuff
9. create therapy forms
10. get involved in Girl Scouts
11. change jewelry daily
12. make crafts
13. read articles
14. brush teeth twice a day (as opposed to twice a day MOST days)
15. increase vocabulary
16. study for comps
17. read daily
18. play pool daily
19. finish a book
20. wear makeup daily
21. create therapy handouts
22. learn to sew
23. sort baskets
24. make a piece of furniture
25. go on a trip
26. get involved in AAMFT
27. create and stick to a budget
28. put on lotion 4 times
29. waist train 4 times
30. learn to play drums
31. take a Coursera course
32. meet step goals everyday
33. therapy research
34. cut back on sodium
35. empieza a aprender Español
36. research journals
37. scrapbook 4 pages
38. get re-certified in archery
39. get rid of stuff
40. teaching jobs
41. drink required amount of water
42. cut back on sugar
43. lernen sie Deutsch
44. eat exact calories
45. execute perfect social media
46. learn marketing/small business
47. got to the gym 6 times
48. be more positive
49. learn statistics
50. execute good sleep habits
51. network and reconnect
52. create goals for 2015

Boom. One down.

Food Chat

Before 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.

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.

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, food is tedious. I'm sure an education in food and health may cause me to grow a tail, breathe fire and smash all the villages.

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...

... so it's hard.









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?).

subject.

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...

... I'd be a diabetic.









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.

I'm pretty amped about it.








My lunch was a new smoothie concoction 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.

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 Renfield's Syndrome 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 do care and want to know what you dared to put in your blender. Mainly for the purpose of judging it.

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 swore 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."

"Oh you don't taste it! Spinach is the one with the bitter taste!"



... sigh...



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 fact, I would be a diabetic.

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 hard to remember that not everyone is programmed that way. Just like my mind has formed a distinct sex-subjects funnel, it doesn't mean that there isn't more to the world.

There's also more images in this world than this ridiculous dog. But it's funny and I'm lazy.

True Confessions: I'm Addicted to Food

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".

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).

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."

There was zero shame to my game.

But here, in part 2 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.

I've been using the myfitnesspal 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.

Like, for example, the app has "chewing" as an exercise. But there's no exercise for "Rampaging in DC traffic"

 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"

I've maybe been watching a lot of The Office... I'm sure nobody could tell.

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!"

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.

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."

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 created a list of snack foods and appropriate meals. 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.

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!).

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*).

Here's the moment when I would reuse The Office Andy "I can too just sit here and cry" picture.

I will never be safe until I build a biodome.

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).

9am: I had my healthy breakfast, I'm good to go!
11am (mid-meeting): 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.

 *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*

2pm: OMG I DIDN'T BRING A 400-500 CALORIE LUNCH! I'M STARVED!!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

I'll close with this: leaving a bag of grapes on the counter is dangerous.

What is the serving size equivalent to "I went to the bag and just started shoving them into my face"?

Most of My Emotions are Pop Culture References

First blog post of the new year!      In August!     That's some horrible record, I'm sure.

Today's inspiration for a post has been brought to you by healthier eating.

That's right, healthier, not healthy. 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...




... food is fucking delicious.




And the healthier eating is coming with healthier habits. Yes, healthier, not healthy because working out is not fucking delicious.

I stand corrected...





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.

Ideal: Wake up at 8am.
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."

Ideal: Get up, drink 8 oz. of lemon water and take a 20 minute walk.
Reality: This was delayed due to playing Simpson's Tapped Out on my phone. Shut up. It's important. 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.

Here's where the learning curve starts:

---Fact: lemon water makes me gag.

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.

Ideal: At 8:30am, prepare and eat breakfast.
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!!!"

---Fact: I know my berries are local because it's humanly impossible to keep them from not turning into mold instantaneously.

But, hey, the blueberries were ok which is great news as they are my least favorite berry. Hooray. I can just throw them in with the one-person healthy oatmeal pancake 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.

... could I have a big handful, Dominic Purcell? How about two big handfuls?

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...





---Fact: Healthy eating and, thus, healthy cooking is only for morning people.

I ran into the pool table while walking around it 60 times. Ok, that was inevitable. But I got upstairs and dropped everything--blueberries,

---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.

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?!
So, I had made the recipe before and I maybe got too cocky and forgot to put water in the batter.

---Fact: If someone is cooking, don't bother to ask "What's burning?" We all know what's burning.

"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.

---Fact: Maybe it IS best to start healthier eating in the morning.

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.

I can't believe I ate the whole thing. Every. burnt. bite.











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.
Reality: Fuck all of that. I'm writing a blogpost.

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.



... and my boyfriend... of course... mostly my boyfriend...

This August, everything's coming up Milhouse!

What I Learned At School Today

This may be a recycled title but I don't know if you've noticed, I'm not creative. Sooo... yea... that's the title.

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.

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.

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.

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 actually 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.

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.

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.

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.

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!!!

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."

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.

The girl starts acting a little devilish (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 actually 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.

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. Note: if someone is twitching uncontrollably and randomly while holding a shotgun, possessed or not, you probably shouldn't approach them.

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.

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.

Keeping the King of England Out of Your Face

Over a year ago, I wrote how health is the new religion-- 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.

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.

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!"

... Ok, obviously it's better to watch the episode. But the line is funny. I promise.

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.

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.

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...

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 FIVE 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.

Really? I could not have been more clear. REALLY?! I said DO. NOT. CONTACT. ME... REALLY?!

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.

Amidst my frustrated confusion, I cannot help but wonder if that is what is, well, wrong 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.

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?

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.

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.

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, DO. NOT. CONTACT. ME. AT. ALL. 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.

... keep the King of England and yourself out of my face.

Wait, 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.

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.

What's with old ladies that we just word vomit to them? OH GOD NOW THE NEIGHBOR WILL LEARN ALL ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE.

Delightful.

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."

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.

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.

Like seriously, I think I'm socially awkward and these people just put me to shame. I look completely sane. And that's weird.

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.

"You're a psyc major, THAT'S SO FUNNY! I'm on antipsychotics! I mean, I'm SUPPOSED to be on antipsychotics. Lol!"
"I think you should cut your hair short. My mom and my ex cut their hair short and it looked hot."
"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."
"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."

Then there's the classics I receive when I tell people I study human sexuality in order to become a sex therapist:

"Human sexuality, eh? Want to have sex with me?"
"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?"
"My husband farts. That's not sexy. You're a therapist. Tell him it's not sexy."
"This one person doesn't have sex. You should tell them to have sex."
*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."

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.

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?

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."

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.

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.

Psh, I Can Write a Better Blog Than That

HOLY 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.

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.

So now I'm wondering "well how the hell DO you be where you are."

Spoiler alert: I have no freaking clue.

In the great irony that is life, last week 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."

Additionally, the professor is super jazzed about mindfulness.

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".

But, I digress...

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 mindful of how holy unhelpful this is?

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.

Holy shit. Didn't see that one coming. Shit came from NOWHERE.

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".

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."

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!

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.

So at least once every hour, I catch myself being negative and thinking how I should stop.

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.

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!

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?

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."

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.

Unamused

Ok, 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.

Sorry?

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.

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.

And they're epic. They may be becoming my addiction.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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).

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

And if not, I got the blueprints to make an awesome business anyway. Shit is from Duke. Classy shit... like me.

What 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...

But this week, I'm going to slip into the book reviewer role.

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 crap series in August at my Mom's book club. It may just kill me.

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.

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.

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 actually 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.

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...

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.

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:

• 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.
• 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.
• 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.

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?

Hmmm... must nice to have no real problems... ever.

My life is NOT difficult at all. Not in the grand scheme of things. But I will still trade with you, simple bitch.

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.

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."

...Ok, maybe Harry Potter didn't say that. But I didn't finish reading the book, so I couldn't tell you for sure.

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. Because, honestly, if you were defeated by a baby, you are a shit wizard. I don't care what anybody says.

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.

• 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.
• 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....
• 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.

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?!

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.

"HOT MESS!" Yea, I Said It

Hello 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!

But I'm back, and I'm sure your life is more complete for it.

So this post today is an update on the solid attempts list and other stuff and is generally a hotmess.

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.

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.

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 hotmess fits perfectly-- "My notes are a hotmess, but in general, here's what I found."

Well, apparently my professor doesn't agree as every time I have written the h- word, I get her strikethrough 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.

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.

There's a great chance I'm wrong on that one but... I don't really care. I'm that over it.

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."

So anyway, the rest of the solid attempts list:

I got a haircut 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.

I made some progress on the basement 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.

MOVING ON! It's funny, I made some progress on my textbooks 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.

We'll skip and come back to being comfortable with my progress. I have been healthier with my diet 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.

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 cook faster-- I think that needs to go on the solid attempts list to accomplish by the end of the year or something.

To wrap up, I am more comfortable with my progress. 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 this photographer 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 learning about something stupid, 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.

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.

He is all sorts of excited about that leaf.

How is This Healthy? This is Just Jacking My Blood Pressure

Due 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.

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.

Moving along...

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 very 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.

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?

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.

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.

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, that's not what I see and whether I'm 100 or 400 pounds, I don't appreciate my viewpoint being marginalized.

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).

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.

...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.

In case you missed it or haven't talked to me I'm trying to eat healthier, 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.

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.

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.

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.

No wonder my classmate didn't want to focus on physical health. Shit is annoying...

Really? I Could've Sworn I Was Competent...

We're going to start yet another post with a TV detour--

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.

... 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!!!

... 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!

... hopefully it works.

...and hopefully it will include watching Charlie Bucket with his bat-shit crazy mom.