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.
May 17, 2013
May 2, 2013
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 thecrap 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:
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
April 11, 2013
"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 herstrikethrough 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.
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
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. |
March 26, 2013
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...
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...
March 19, 2013
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.
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.
March 12, 2013
Pretty Sure Gandhi Wasn't Talking About Puke
"Be the change you wish to see in the world."
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...
Anyway...
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.
Ok, folks, seriously, let's stop having the attention span of a ferret.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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, "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." 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.
But it's shit like that that I think of when I hear people say how people are so much nicer 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).
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?
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.
Now if I can just figure out how to be the change that gets Wentworth Miller more into my world.
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...
Anyway...
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.
Ok, folks, seriously, let's stop having the attention span of a ferret.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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, "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." 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.
But it's shit like that that I think of when I hear people say how people are so much nicer 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).
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?
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.
Now if I can just figure out how to be the change that gets Wentworth Miller more into my world.
March 5, 2013
Steve Carrell is my Therapist... Is That Weird?
In case you missed it, I've become a negative nancy.
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...
In a previous post, 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*
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 Crazy, Stupid Love. 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) having a normal fucking movie experience, and b) learning valuable life lessons from Steve Carrell. I would almost work on this except I have other shit to do.
Which leads me to throwing out the Bucket List-- 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.
By the end of this month, I'd like to make the following Solid Attempts:
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.).
The glass just got half full... of VODKA!!! Where's some lemons and cranberry juice?
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...
In a previous post, 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*
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 Crazy, Stupid Love. 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) having a normal fucking movie experience, and b) learning valuable life lessons from Steve Carrell. I would almost work on this except I have other shit to do.
Which leads me to throwing out the Bucket List-- 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.
By the end of this month, I'd like to make the following Solid Attempts:
- Get a haircut: 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?"
- Make progress on the basement: 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.
- Make progress on my textbooks: 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.
- Be comfortable with my productivity: yes, yes, let's flourish the positivity! Sunshine and rainbows on this crap!
- Be healthier with my diet: 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.
- Have some sort of gathering that includes showing off the basement: 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.
- Lock in my brand name and begin work!: 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.
- Get a project done: 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).
- Make progress on my books: 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.
- Consider expanding this list: 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.
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.).
The glass just got half full... of VODKA!!! Where's some lemons and cranberry juice?
February 26, 2013
But Where I am Blows
So, 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.
I don't feel "with it" at all these past couple of months.
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?
Like, I just feel like something is missing.
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 here's what has to change and here is what it will look like when it is changed. But as I implied in my oatmeal post, 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--
It's time to get started on myself as a brand. 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.
Meanwhile, I want to be a better therapist. 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 therapy 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.
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 more motivated to explore other religious ideas. 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.
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 come-to-Jesus 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, I don't want to learn about these things-- 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.
And then there's all the little things. 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.
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!
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.
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."
I don't feel "with it" at all these past couple of months.
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?
Like, I just feel like something is missing.
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 here's what has to change and here is what it will look like when it is changed. But as I implied in my oatmeal post, 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--
It's time to get started on myself as a brand. 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.
Meanwhile, I want to be a better therapist. 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 therapy 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.
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 more motivated to explore other religious ideas. 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.
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 come-to-Jesus 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, I don't want to learn about these things-- 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.
And then there's all the little things. 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.
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!
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.
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."
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