The months have indeed flown by and here I am facing my first triathlon in a mere 3 days. Training has gone well. I have missed days, overtrained, gotten sick and hurt myself. Fortunately, this has not been the rule but the exception and I have been working hard. I have learned so much about my endurance levels and fitness, yet feel completely lost as to what to expect on race day. There will no doubt be a long entry in here about the race provided they aren't searching down the Detroit River for me.
Here are a few things I have learned about myself and my body. Some are standard, some are quirky and all are helpful to me and may very well be entertaining to you.
-Alcohol, even just one drink, makes me crabby and sneezy
-PB&J is a very poor choice of a pre-swim snack. blargh.
-Vanilla Clif Shots are a piss poor snack for any occasion. Fortunately, the chocolate is a decent choice.
-Not drinking enough water with any given carb-laden foodstuff (Clif Shots, Clif Blocks, etc.) results in excessive and painful amounts of gastrointestinal stress.
-I am, for the first time ever, capable of running 4 miles.
-Most people who find out I'm doing a triathlon, even people at the gym, think there's something wrong with me.
-I have gained 15 pounds and have had to buy new clothes. Bigger ones. While you can rest a coffee mug on my perky ass, my abdominal area has been refusing to relinquish adipose tissue as quickly as the rest of my parts. This is normal, yet irritating.
-Some of the things I have overheard the trainers at my gym tell clients are unhelpful and even downright dangerous, but there will be many forthcoming entries about that.
-My 1RM for the lying leg-press is 350 lbs. I may not be able to keep up with you if you're running, but I could kangaroo-kick you from here to Canton. Or rupture many of your internal organs in the attempt.
So, the quest continues. After the triathlon, I'm really excited about getting to the gym and getting back to heavier weight training and building some muscle. While my endurance has vastly improved over the last three months, my body is still the same shape, albeit a little thinner.
Will there be another triathlon after this one? I'll let you know after Sunday.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
I'll tri in 2010...
2010 is off to a roaring start. Actually, it's more of a terrifying start, but I kind of did that to myself on purpose.
Over the last bunch of years, I have watched my weight slowly go up and my level of activity decline. My transition from a waitressing job to a desk job and quitting smoking didn't help matters, they were very good ideas and moved me forward to better things, but weren't great news for my waistline. Although it was a slow process, I was startled to wake up one morning last year to a much doughier and less fit version of my person. In fact, I am perilously close to technically being obese.
My attempts to exercise it off and eat better can be best described as a stutter; nothing really consistent or routine and my food intake has suffered from my impulsive leanings. The mindless eating on the couch, standing and chatting while eating, and overly generous portions, made all my clothes too small.
Most of my childhood, through school and well into my adulthood was full of activity. I was on a swim team for years as a kid. Even as a smoker, I would exercise, take walks, go dancing 4 nights a week and spend a lot of time outside. Once I quit smoking, I started cycling to distract myself from the nicotine withdraws. I would ride for sometimes hours each day, commuting everywhere I wanted to go, mountain biking every chance I got and taking midnight rides alone through Seattle (Once I hit a cat while riding down a hill at 1:30am. It lived, but is still one of the most horrible experiences of my life). Even living in Chicago I commuted by bicycle, drivers gave way and there was grudging acceptance from both sides to live somewhat respectively, if not harmoniously with each other.
Landing back in Southeast Michigan was like landing on a comfy couch in front of the TV. My bike outings got shorter and happened less and less. Riding a bike in the Motor City is heresy and drivers tend to take it upon themselves to right the evil wrongs of cycledom by making it difficult and extremely dangerous to ride the streets. They aim for bikers and make no bones about it. There is little respite away from the concrete, save a few parks in the metro Detroit area overrun by throngs of macho weekend warriors getting their ya-yas out who will draw blood of you get in the way. My activity level plummeted, my intake of bad food and alcohol increased and I got fat.
I have always loved athletes. The Olympics are one of my favorite events in the world, especially the Winter Olympics. Athletes amaze and inspire me, how the body moves is magical to me. Watching people push the boundaries of their whole being to run a little faster or jump a little farther is an amazing thing to watch. The possibilities are consistently being pushed farther and farther. As a kid I would dream of being a professional athlete more often than I would fantasize a life as a famous singer or actor.
I am currently pursuing a degree in Exercise Science. I am lucky enough to have professors who nerd out about the human body more than I do, so learning the physiology of ATP production and the chemistry of the Krebs Cycle is a privilege and a delight. Their fascination of the human body and their experiences of the athletes they've worked with fuel my fire to learn. To go into Athletic Training and work training athletes is a dream I might just be able to accomplish. Pretty incredible.
I am working to relate all that I learn to my own body. A few years ago, I separated my body from my consciousness so I didn't have to think about how out of shape I had gotten. I am slowly reconnecting my head to my body and remembering that much of me exists below the neck. I have been wanting to get back to a good state of training so I can run a 10k or go mountain biking with my husband or challenge myself to run uphill for fun again. But I keep stalling out on my fitness plan and then I just spiral to a very bad place physically and mentally.
On New Year's Eve, I decided to flip my approach. Instead of getting in shape to do these things, I decided to set a large-yet-attainable goal and work to accomplish it. I know this sounds ridiculously basic, set a goal and get to it, but I have never been good as setting attainable goals, just the kind that sound good and are kind of vague like "I want to exercise more" or "I want to write". I decided to be specific, so I signed up for a mini triathlon this June. On June 13 2010, I will swim 500 meters, cycle 20 kilometers and run 5 kilometers, all in a row and all on the same day.
I have succeeded in scaring the shit out of myself and now I work out 5 - 6 days a week. The idea of skipping a day is almost unthinkable, I don't want to fail at this goal because I missed a few days of exercise. Maybe this isn't the best way to motivate, but I have to say that it's effective. I have changed my focus from what my body looks like to what my body can do that I couldn't do a few weeks ago. I feel excited and nervous but I already feel stronger and the idea of finishing the triathlon becomes more real. I actually feel like I'm becoming an athlete, which is really a dream come true.
Happy 2010. Go Me!
Over the last bunch of years, I have watched my weight slowly go up and my level of activity decline. My transition from a waitressing job to a desk job and quitting smoking didn't help matters, they were very good ideas and moved me forward to better things, but weren't great news for my waistline. Although it was a slow process, I was startled to wake up one morning last year to a much doughier and less fit version of my person. In fact, I am perilously close to technically being obese.
My attempts to exercise it off and eat better can be best described as a stutter; nothing really consistent or routine and my food intake has suffered from my impulsive leanings. The mindless eating on the couch, standing and chatting while eating, and overly generous portions, made all my clothes too small.
Most of my childhood, through school and well into my adulthood was full of activity. I was on a swim team for years as a kid. Even as a smoker, I would exercise, take walks, go dancing 4 nights a week and spend a lot of time outside. Once I quit smoking, I started cycling to distract myself from the nicotine withdraws. I would ride for sometimes hours each day, commuting everywhere I wanted to go, mountain biking every chance I got and taking midnight rides alone through Seattle (Once I hit a cat while riding down a hill at 1:30am. It lived, but is still one of the most horrible experiences of my life). Even living in Chicago I commuted by bicycle, drivers gave way and there was grudging acceptance from both sides to live somewhat respectively, if not harmoniously with each other.
Landing back in Southeast Michigan was like landing on a comfy couch in front of the TV. My bike outings got shorter and happened less and less. Riding a bike in the Motor City is heresy and drivers tend to take it upon themselves to right the evil wrongs of cycledom by making it difficult and extremely dangerous to ride the streets. They aim for bikers and make no bones about it. There is little respite away from the concrete, save a few parks in the metro Detroit area overrun by throngs of macho weekend warriors getting their ya-yas out who will draw blood of you get in the way. My activity level plummeted, my intake of bad food and alcohol increased and I got fat.
I have always loved athletes. The Olympics are one of my favorite events in the world, especially the Winter Olympics. Athletes amaze and inspire me, how the body moves is magical to me. Watching people push the boundaries of their whole being to run a little faster or jump a little farther is an amazing thing to watch. The possibilities are consistently being pushed farther and farther. As a kid I would dream of being a professional athlete more often than I would fantasize a life as a famous singer or actor.
I am currently pursuing a degree in Exercise Science. I am lucky enough to have professors who nerd out about the human body more than I do, so learning the physiology of ATP production and the chemistry of the Krebs Cycle is a privilege and a delight. Their fascination of the human body and their experiences of the athletes they've worked with fuel my fire to learn. To go into Athletic Training and work training athletes is a dream I might just be able to accomplish. Pretty incredible.
I am working to relate all that I learn to my own body. A few years ago, I separated my body from my consciousness so I didn't have to think about how out of shape I had gotten. I am slowly reconnecting my head to my body and remembering that much of me exists below the neck. I have been wanting to get back to a good state of training so I can run a 10k or go mountain biking with my husband or challenge myself to run uphill for fun again. But I keep stalling out on my fitness plan and then I just spiral to a very bad place physically and mentally.
On New Year's Eve, I decided to flip my approach. Instead of getting in shape to do these things, I decided to set a large-yet-attainable goal and work to accomplish it. I know this sounds ridiculously basic, set a goal and get to it, but I have never been good as setting attainable goals, just the kind that sound good and are kind of vague like "I want to exercise more" or "I want to write". I decided to be specific, so I signed up for a mini triathlon this June. On June 13 2010, I will swim 500 meters, cycle 20 kilometers and run 5 kilometers, all in a row and all on the same day.
I have succeeded in scaring the shit out of myself and now I work out 5 - 6 days a week. The idea of skipping a day is almost unthinkable, I don't want to fail at this goal because I missed a few days of exercise. Maybe this isn't the best way to motivate, but I have to say that it's effective. I have changed my focus from what my body looks like to what my body can do that I couldn't do a few weeks ago. I feel excited and nervous but I already feel stronger and the idea of finishing the triathlon becomes more real. I actually feel like I'm becoming an athlete, which is really a dream come true.
Happy 2010. Go Me!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Taking sides
Well it's come down to this: a comment about the overly hyped Twilight series, particularly New Moon, but I just have to say something. On my other blog, They often post "Writer's Block" questions where they inquire about certain things which people would tend to have strong feelings about. To help us writers unplug the drain and get some thoughts and our pens writing. This one was "Did you think that the new Twilight Movie was as good as the book?" or something like that. Since I have strong opinions about Twilight, and I like sharing my opinions, I thought it would be time to clear a few things up. Or just gripe.
I did read the Twilight series a year or so ago. I was in that tricky conundrum where you don't really like specific things about a series, but you have to finish it to see how it ends. One thing I do like about Stephanie Meyers is that she is pretty honest about not being a writer as much as she was a housewife with intense dreams that she was compelled to write down. I appreciate that. She's not trying to come off as a person who struggled to be a writer, hone their craft and find an idea that inspired her and an agent that got her paid. She was a stay-at-home mom who quit her job to raise her kids and had a dream about a girl in love with a vampire who wanted her blood. Vampires are like that.
I'm pretty sure that I'm a big feminist and snob but part of me really enjoyed the books. Unfortunately, one of my biggest problems with the book was one of the main characters. Edward. He sounds like the fantasy boyfriend of most 15 year olds. He is smokin' hot, he is strong to the point of almost invincibility, he is protective, he always knows what to do and he is a little moody but seems to shine when he's with you. Sounds pretty much like my high school fantasy. Hell, even into my early thirties, I was drawn to the handsome withdrawn brooders. Then I grew up. I realized that real relationships are made of two people who are friends and work together to conquer the universe. Edward is a know it all and seems to treat Bella like she's a stupid kid who doesn't know anything and makes moronic decisions. Gross. Every feminist fiber of my being was wanting to jump in to the book and smack Bella. Let her know that passion without foundation will fail. Every time. If it feels like you've known each other for lifetimes and there's an unspoken bond and chemistry between you two, it means nothing if he can't respect you enough to hear you out and take your thoughts into consideration. I know this from experience.
Then there's Jacob. He's a clumsy kid, but he actually treats Bella like a friend. Like she can have her own thoughts and abilities and not threaten him. Plus, she can go to the beach with him on a sunny day. Having a husband that is my friend and partner, I again speak from experience. I rooted for Jacob from the first paragraph of then talking on the beach when she first arrived in Forks.
My last issue, and it's totally political, is the fact that Bella falls for the rich white guy who seems pretty disrespectful, and eschews the poor American Indian guy who is a friend with a crush. It seems that in fantasies, love can't survive without money. Or white skin.
So that's my beef. Or beefs. Or boeuf de la moi.
I guess if I want this story to go differently, I'll have to write it myself.
I did read the Twilight series a year or so ago. I was in that tricky conundrum where you don't really like specific things about a series, but you have to finish it to see how it ends. One thing I do like about Stephanie Meyers is that she is pretty honest about not being a writer as much as she was a housewife with intense dreams that she was compelled to write down. I appreciate that. She's not trying to come off as a person who struggled to be a writer, hone their craft and find an idea that inspired her and an agent that got her paid. She was a stay-at-home mom who quit her job to raise her kids and had a dream about a girl in love with a vampire who wanted her blood. Vampires are like that.
I'm pretty sure that I'm a big feminist and snob but part of me really enjoyed the books. Unfortunately, one of my biggest problems with the book was one of the main characters. Edward. He sounds like the fantasy boyfriend of most 15 year olds. He is smokin' hot, he is strong to the point of almost invincibility, he is protective, he always knows what to do and he is a little moody but seems to shine when he's with you. Sounds pretty much like my high school fantasy. Hell, even into my early thirties, I was drawn to the handsome withdrawn brooders. Then I grew up. I realized that real relationships are made of two people who are friends and work together to conquer the universe. Edward is a know it all and seems to treat Bella like she's a stupid kid who doesn't know anything and makes moronic decisions. Gross. Every feminist fiber of my being was wanting to jump in to the book and smack Bella. Let her know that passion without foundation will fail. Every time. If it feels like you've known each other for lifetimes and there's an unspoken bond and chemistry between you two, it means nothing if he can't respect you enough to hear you out and take your thoughts into consideration. I know this from experience.
Then there's Jacob. He's a clumsy kid, but he actually treats Bella like a friend. Like she can have her own thoughts and abilities and not threaten him. Plus, she can go to the beach with him on a sunny day. Having a husband that is my friend and partner, I again speak from experience. I rooted for Jacob from the first paragraph of then talking on the beach when she first arrived in Forks.
My last issue, and it's totally political, is the fact that Bella falls for the rich white guy who seems pretty disrespectful, and eschews the poor American Indian guy who is a friend with a crush. It seems that in fantasies, love can't survive without money. Or white skin.
So that's my beef. Or beefs. Or boeuf de la moi.
I guess if I want this story to go differently, I'll have to write it myself.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I Take It Back
All yesterday morning, I heard about the Dems patting themselves on the back about passing sweeping health care reforms, with little commentary on the stranglehold the Stupak-Pitts amendment put on abortion rights. I don't believe in many things that I pay endless tax dollars to, but I accept that as part of being an American, I have to pony up for some things I think are morally wrong. But, this is not about rearranging the laws to fit my personal beliefs, that's not how it works in the this experiment called America. You take some, you give some. Unless, of course you are talking about abortion rights.
As always, the extreme right has managed to hijack the reproductive rights issue and turn it from an issue of an individuals private choice to screaming about killing babies. It's okay to spend billions to kill babies overseas in wars we start with people we don't have to look in the face, but if you start talking about federal funds to cover abortions, we get all conflicted. It's gotten to the point that shame has become synonymous with the word 'abortion' and it's become a quiet little secret in many peoples lives. The discussion has been warped, twisted away from women and giving them respect and privacy to condemnation. I hear it from both sides: the Duggars are overpopulating the earth and being irresponsible; women who have abortions are baby killers and should just have the baby and give it up for adoption; there must be something wrong with those married couples who don't want to have children, and on and on. We can't stop judging other people's lives and it all goes back to the same idea. Mind your own business. You have no idea what someone else is going through. Trust me, you don't know what's best for them.
I, for one, take this argument back and I'm giving to women to make choices for themselves with their family and their god. No one else can best make that decision for them. Continue screaming about baby killing and hell all you want, I'm going to make this about the women who need access to all their health care choices in order to pursue their life, liberty and happiness.
As always, the extreme right has managed to hijack the reproductive rights issue and turn it from an issue of an individuals private choice to screaming about killing babies. It's okay to spend billions to kill babies overseas in wars we start with people we don't have to look in the face, but if you start talking about federal funds to cover abortions, we get all conflicted. It's gotten to the point that shame has become synonymous with the word 'abortion' and it's become a quiet little secret in many peoples lives. The discussion has been warped, twisted away from women and giving them respect and privacy to condemnation. I hear it from both sides: the Duggars are overpopulating the earth and being irresponsible; women who have abortions are baby killers and should just have the baby and give it up for adoption; there must be something wrong with those married couples who don't want to have children, and on and on. We can't stop judging other people's lives and it all goes back to the same idea. Mind your own business. You have no idea what someone else is going through. Trust me, you don't know what's best for them.
I, for one, take this argument back and I'm giving to women to make choices for themselves with their family and their god. No one else can best make that decision for them. Continue screaming about baby killing and hell all you want, I'm going to make this about the women who need access to all their health care choices in order to pursue their life, liberty and happiness.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
One month shy of a year
Well, you'll be damned, look who's posted a new blog entry!
I'm back, leaner, more educated (technically) and married. I'm less obsessed with Facebook and have become accustomed to getting some intimate information on the personal lives of kind-of strangers. Still odd, but apparently the way of the future. Or the present at least.
Goat and I had a perfect wedding. One trip to the emergency room and one stolen car, we did pretty well. The food was great, we had a blast and reveled in having so many people we love in one place celebrating. The weather shaped up an hour and a half before the ceremony and the sun didn't stop shining after that. Now to figure out how to be married.
I expected a lot more panic about being in this committed of a relationship. Prior to meeting Goat, I would get itchy a few weeks or months into the dating process and find myself bored or miserable. This speaks less to the actual people that I dated and more to my poor choice of companion. Save for a few, most of them were perfectly nice people who I had nothing in common with or who were kind of afraid of me. I met Goat and none of that happened. We kept dating, kept having fun and dated some more. Now that we're married, I figured out that marital bliss is between two people and not striving to fulfill anyone else's idea of what marriage should be. So, not much panic and so far, lots of bliss.
At the moment, I'm sitting in the nook of the couch that has become so familiar to my butt over the year that I worked out of my house. I am still unemployed, yet now a student and the view is the same but the perspective is different. I hated that job. That job was almost the polar opposite of who I was as a person and some of the people I worked with were toxic. Yet, I couldn't walk away from that job. It had to kick me to the curb in order for me to shake someone else's life off of me and get back to my own. I'm in a much better world and have shed some bad feelings and people.
Can you tell I have a cold? My head rings with the crowded echo of the sniffles around congestion. Is is obvious that I haven't written in almost a year? It will probably take a little time before things come together on the page. But my blog is for practice, so I'm practicing.
Back to my chicken noodle soup and box of Kleenex.
I'm back, leaner, more educated (technically) and married. I'm less obsessed with Facebook and have become accustomed to getting some intimate information on the personal lives of kind-of strangers. Still odd, but apparently the way of the future. Or the present at least.
Goat and I had a perfect wedding. One trip to the emergency room and one stolen car, we did pretty well. The food was great, we had a blast and reveled in having so many people we love in one place celebrating. The weather shaped up an hour and a half before the ceremony and the sun didn't stop shining after that. Now to figure out how to be married.
I expected a lot more panic about being in this committed of a relationship. Prior to meeting Goat, I would get itchy a few weeks or months into the dating process and find myself bored or miserable. This speaks less to the actual people that I dated and more to my poor choice of companion. Save for a few, most of them were perfectly nice people who I had nothing in common with or who were kind of afraid of me. I met Goat and none of that happened. We kept dating, kept having fun and dated some more. Now that we're married, I figured out that marital bliss is between two people and not striving to fulfill anyone else's idea of what marriage should be. So, not much panic and so far, lots of bliss.
At the moment, I'm sitting in the nook of the couch that has become so familiar to my butt over the year that I worked out of my house. I am still unemployed, yet now a student and the view is the same but the perspective is different. I hated that job. That job was almost the polar opposite of who I was as a person and some of the people I worked with were toxic. Yet, I couldn't walk away from that job. It had to kick me to the curb in order for me to shake someone else's life off of me and get back to my own. I'm in a much better world and have shed some bad feelings and people.
Can you tell I have a cold? My head rings with the crowded echo of the sniffles around congestion. Is is obvious that I haven't written in almost a year? It will probably take a little time before things come together on the page. But my blog is for practice, so I'm practicing.
Back to my chicken noodle soup and box of Kleenex.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Things you face on Facebook
A few weeks ago, I joined the weird world of Facebook (which I usually mistype as "facebeek". What kind of site would that be?). Since I don't work at a computer all day anymore, I don't spend as much time looking for old friends and sending messages as I did when I started Myspace a few years back. It's pretty fun and, as I mentioned before, weird. Talk about a trip down memory lane. I have gotten back in touch with a few people from high school that I haven't talked to in almost two decades. Because you can check out peoples profiles once you are friends with them, it helps to avoid that awkwardness of conversation that can happen when you haven't talked to someone in 18 years or so. "So, how are you?" and "What have you been up to" are two inevitable questions that you tend to blurt out when first conversing with someone. If you haven't spoken with that someone in a long time, the questions seem kinda stupid as it would take a good long while to answer either one of them. Facebook helps fill in a few blanks before heading into some kind of regular communication.
I like going onto my home page when I first log in, so I can see what all of my 34 friends are doing without checking all of their individual profiles. I can see that my brother was laughing at old photos, or that my friend was surprised that she liked going to a Red Wings game or that my possible future sister-in-law wants to strangle her research advisers. Better yet, I get to comment on everything! Being prone to smart assery and two bittery, that is one of my favorite parts.
The downside is that you sometimes find out information that you don't know what to do with. One of my new Facebook friends is a woman I went to high school with and she is going through a devastating time with her newborn. It's a horrifying process to watch; she went from healthy and ready to deliver a week ago, to poor infant MRI results and very tough decision making. I have watched this process as she has been posting regular updates on her Facebook page. I'm embarrassed that I can't stop looking for updates, I'm totally drawn in. But I feel a little uneasy knowing intimate details about her life when I was more acquaintances with her in high school and it's been eons since we've even spoken. I feel like I shouldn't look, but how can I not? It's right there, she put it up on her profile right where all her friends can read it. It's also awkward that I get to see the outpouring of support too. It's heartwarming and wonderful, but still so personal.
It makes sense though. When you are going through a big life event like that, where things are changing many times a day, it seems logical to let everyone know in the simplest way possible. Updating on a site like Facebook seems smart from a time management standpoint. Still feels a little ooky to me. I don't know what to do. Do I comment? Do I just sit and watch? It's very peculiar and slightly upsetting.
Is this the future of our human relationships? Will we stop personal contact altogether and just send email and leave messages on social networking sites? I feel bad enough that I don't send letters anymore but I'll really miss talking on the phone and my all time favorite method of communication, rubber banding a note to a rock and throwing it through a window.
I like going onto my home page when I first log in, so I can see what all of my 34 friends are doing without checking all of their individual profiles. I can see that my brother was laughing at old photos, or that my friend was surprised that she liked going to a Red Wings game or that my possible future sister-in-law wants to strangle her research advisers. Better yet, I get to comment on everything! Being prone to smart assery and two bittery, that is one of my favorite parts.
The downside is that you sometimes find out information that you don't know what to do with. One of my new Facebook friends is a woman I went to high school with and she is going through a devastating time with her newborn. It's a horrifying process to watch; she went from healthy and ready to deliver a week ago, to poor infant MRI results and very tough decision making. I have watched this process as she has been posting regular updates on her Facebook page. I'm embarrassed that I can't stop looking for updates, I'm totally drawn in. But I feel a little uneasy knowing intimate details about her life when I was more acquaintances with her in high school and it's been eons since we've even spoken. I feel like I shouldn't look, but how can I not? It's right there, she put it up on her profile right where all her friends can read it. It's also awkward that I get to see the outpouring of support too. It's heartwarming and wonderful, but still so personal.
It makes sense though. When you are going through a big life event like that, where things are changing many times a day, it seems logical to let everyone know in the simplest way possible. Updating on a site like Facebook seems smart from a time management standpoint. Still feels a little ooky to me. I don't know what to do. Do I comment? Do I just sit and watch? It's very peculiar and slightly upsetting.
Is this the future of our human relationships? Will we stop personal contact altogether and just send email and leave messages on social networking sites? I feel bad enough that I don't send letters anymore but I'll really miss talking on the phone and my all time favorite method of communication, rubber banding a note to a rock and throwing it through a window.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Progressive Michigan?
Ever since I have moved back to the Midwest, I have been pining for the general liberal lean of the West Coast. Out there, having a nose piercing didn't raise the eyebrows of managers interviewing me for a job, neighbors of every color, culture, gender, religion and orientation greeted me at the food co-op. The weather is better in the winter out there and everyone seems to take it a little more easy and be a little more inclusive.
I am absolutely stunned that California's preposterous Proposition 8 managed to pass. I'm so very heartbroken. I sigh as gay rights takes another step backward into the shadows and hides from the bigotry of the religious right. Why in the world would someone put the rights of a minority to the vote of a majority? Can you imagine what would have happened if segregation was put on the ballot in the southern states? That would have been insane and unjust. Just like Prop 8 was insane and unjust.
It reminds me of a wonderful bumper sticker I saw years ago while driving around Denver. Denver and it's surrounding towns are home to some of the largest evangelical groups in the country, including Focus On The Family. While zooming through in I-70, I saw a red minivan with a bumper sticker that read "Focus on your own damn family". I thought that was perfect. Groups like F.O.F. tend to be far more concerned with what's going on in other people's reproductive organs, relationships and spiritual lives when they need to start minding their own damn business. I would never tell any evangelical that their religion is backward thinking bullshit and they can kindly stay the hell out of my world.
I heard that Prop 8 and others of it's ilk are there to "protect marriage". What does marriage need protection from? Perhaps the 60% of straight folks who seem to consistently fuck them up and end up divorced. How does a gay couple getting married make a straight couple any less married? How is the "threatened" straight, married couple even going to know that a gay couple has gotten married? Would there have been email blasts announcing all the gay weddings that happen each week and paranoid straight folks can sign up for the gay wedding newsletter over which to fret and pray? My apologies for being so sarcastic and dramatic, stupidity often brings that out in me.
Michigan, on the other hand, usually that bastion of bringing up the rear managed to pass a state wide medical marijuana proposition as well one allowing stem cell research. Go Team Mitten State! Both of these will be very good for the states economy which has been in recession for about 3-4 years. What's happening to the rest of the USA right now is what has been going on around here for some time. I'm really excited to see how this changes the local economical landscape in a state that has had it's financial backbone staked in noting but automotive for the last 60 years. Winds of change are blowing through the Great Lakes State and it's pretty exciting around here.
I am absolutely stunned that California's preposterous Proposition 8 managed to pass. I'm so very heartbroken. I sigh as gay rights takes another step backward into the shadows and hides from the bigotry of the religious right. Why in the world would someone put the rights of a minority to the vote of a majority? Can you imagine what would have happened if segregation was put on the ballot in the southern states? That would have been insane and unjust. Just like Prop 8 was insane and unjust.
It reminds me of a wonderful bumper sticker I saw years ago while driving around Denver. Denver and it's surrounding towns are home to some of the largest evangelical groups in the country, including Focus On The Family. While zooming through in I-70, I saw a red minivan with a bumper sticker that read "Focus on your own damn family". I thought that was perfect. Groups like F.O.F. tend to be far more concerned with what's going on in other people's reproductive organs, relationships and spiritual lives when they need to start minding their own damn business. I would never tell any evangelical that their religion is backward thinking bullshit and they can kindly stay the hell out of my world.
I heard that Prop 8 and others of it's ilk are there to "protect marriage". What does marriage need protection from? Perhaps the 60% of straight folks who seem to consistently fuck them up and end up divorced. How does a gay couple getting married make a straight couple any less married? How is the "threatened" straight, married couple even going to know that a gay couple has gotten married? Would there have been email blasts announcing all the gay weddings that happen each week and paranoid straight folks can sign up for the gay wedding newsletter over which to fret and pray? My apologies for being so sarcastic and dramatic, stupidity often brings that out in me.
Michigan, on the other hand, usually that bastion of bringing up the rear managed to pass a state wide medical marijuana proposition as well one allowing stem cell research. Go Team Mitten State! Both of these will be very good for the states economy which has been in recession for about 3-4 years. What's happening to the rest of the USA right now is what has been going on around here for some time. I'm really excited to see how this changes the local economical landscape in a state that has had it's financial backbone staked in noting but automotive for the last 60 years. Winds of change are blowing through the Great Lakes State and it's pretty exciting around here.
Spellchecking the Spellcheck
Now that Barack Obama is President-Elect, it's time for spellcheck on computers to include his name and stop trying to correct it. My computer keeps wanting to change his name to Barrack Obadiah.
Feeling Groovy
For the first time in my life, I volunteered for a political campaign this year. I liked Obama so much, I felt it was totally necessary to do what I could to make sure he landed in the White House. I revamped the filing system at the local Obama HQ, made phone calls to voters and helped the comfort squad feed the volunteers (my official title: "Food Lieutenant"). It was a great time and I came away feeling like I needed to do more, but then again chronic restlessness is my natural state.
A few days after Obama's big win and many other big victories (California's Prop 8 notwithstanding) I am soaking in the warm pool of accomplishment. I am feeling hopeful for the first time in almost a decade while at the same time, wondering (much like everyone else it seems) what is next. Obama's administration is being handed one dud of an economy, a very thin, holey fabric of foreign relations and many other situations in which he will have to prove himself worthy, some of which are based on old school ideas about people of certain skin colors.
On Tuesday night, I watched the returns while gnawing at my fingernails. I was a nervous wreck. I knew Obama would win, but I didn't know what kind of shenanigans might keep him from becoming president-elect. As a girl who had had her liberal heart broken more than once I was way past cautiously optimistic and somewhere around pessimistically keeping the faith. Over the last eight years, I have felt like the ideals that would move us forward as a country such as compassion, progressive inclusiveness and personal liberty, freedom and the pursuit of happiness were ideas to be hidden away. I couldn't make it in the corporate cutthroat, "Us" versus "Them", more for the most and less for the rest, suffer quietly and you won't be seen as unpatriotic world that was so quickly created by the current administration, I was drowning. Suffocating. I truly feel that we, as a country, as a people and as a planet's population can only truly move forward and survive if we work together. Now, I feel like lots of other people agree with me. It's quite a lovely feeling.
I didn't cry with joy like I thought I would when they called the presidency for Obama. I didn't cry when I'd heard that John McCain called to concede. I didn't cry during Obama's victory speech, even when it seemed that everybody else in the world was crying. Yesterday, I finally popped and burst into tears and you know what did it? The thing that sent me over the edge? I was watching a clip of Comedy Central's "Indecision 2008" and I started to cry as I watched Stephen Colbert struggle to keep his conservative character in tact while the real Stephen fought back tears when the election was called for Obama. For whatever reason, that did it for me and not only did I start to cry, I wasn't able to stop for a good long while. I'm still getting misty this morning when I realize that I can feel hopeful again. Oh hopeful heart, you may now come out of hiding.
The whole world has been moved by this and I can't wait to see what happens next.
A few days after Obama's big win and many other big victories (California's Prop 8 notwithstanding) I am soaking in the warm pool of accomplishment. I am feeling hopeful for the first time in almost a decade while at the same time, wondering (much like everyone else it seems) what is next. Obama's administration is being handed one dud of an economy, a very thin, holey fabric of foreign relations and many other situations in which he will have to prove himself worthy, some of which are based on old school ideas about people of certain skin colors.
On Tuesday night, I watched the returns while gnawing at my fingernails. I was a nervous wreck. I knew Obama would win, but I didn't know what kind of shenanigans might keep him from becoming president-elect. As a girl who had had her liberal heart broken more than once I was way past cautiously optimistic and somewhere around pessimistically keeping the faith. Over the last eight years, I have felt like the ideals that would move us forward as a country such as compassion, progressive inclusiveness and personal liberty, freedom and the pursuit of happiness were ideas to be hidden away. I couldn't make it in the corporate cutthroat, "Us" versus "Them", more for the most and less for the rest, suffer quietly and you won't be seen as unpatriotic world that was so quickly created by the current administration, I was drowning. Suffocating. I truly feel that we, as a country, as a people and as a planet's population can only truly move forward and survive if we work together. Now, I feel like lots of other people agree with me. It's quite a lovely feeling.
I didn't cry with joy like I thought I would when they called the presidency for Obama. I didn't cry when I'd heard that John McCain called to concede. I didn't cry during Obama's victory speech, even when it seemed that everybody else in the world was crying. Yesterday, I finally popped and burst into tears and you know what did it? The thing that sent me over the edge? I was watching a clip of Comedy Central's "Indecision 2008" and I started to cry as I watched Stephen Colbert struggle to keep his conservative character in tact while the real Stephen fought back tears when the election was called for Obama. For whatever reason, that did it for me and not only did I start to cry, I wasn't able to stop for a good long while. I'm still getting misty this morning when I realize that I can feel hopeful again. Oh hopeful heart, you may now come out of hiding.
The whole world has been moved by this and I can't wait to see what happens next.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Better Names
In the comment section of a blog I like to read, I found new names for McCain and Palin:
"Walnuts" and "Bible Spice"
Ha!
"Walnuts" and "Bible Spice"
Ha!
Good Smell Day
Apparently, polyps have a place to hide, and it's up my nose. I have tried to expel them with drugs and nettie pots, but they thwart any attempt I make with their 6 fierce teeth and bug eyes (shown above). Before I knew they had moved in, I thought I was just stuffy from the weather and tried to blow them out. Ouch.
The thing about having polyps growing in my nose is that they keep me from smelling and tasting very much. It's had more of an effect on my life than I thought it would and it's not a good effect. Since they are so damn stubborn and won't move out, the days on which I can smell and taste are few and far between.
On the occasions that I regain those two elusive senses, I can usually be found running around my house, making sure there are no funky smells. Today, for about 10 minutes, I could smell and taste and that's a banner day for me. I was out and about and I caught whiffs of perfume, fall and cars. Even though I don't much like perfumes or the smells cars make, I was happy to finally smell fall. Yum.
Unfortunately, it's time for surgery, which basically amounts to, disgustingly enough, a D&C in your nostrils. Gross, but then again most surgery is. Unfortunately, I have no insurance, so it will have to wait.
I'm hoping to have them removed in time for the wedding so I can taste the catering and smell my new husband who wears bay rum and Jymn's Special Sauce.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Scenes from a Reception
Goat and I are going to have our reception at a science center. Recently, we stopped in to take a few pictures so we could get an idea of where we would set up the tables and the food and where the hell everyone is going to dance. Here are a few, but not so many as to spoil it for the people who are coming.
This is near the entrance. Upon arrival our guests will have access to a bar, a band and, as is so typical at wedding receptions, a T-Rex statue.
One of the reasons I love Goat so much is because whenever I turn my back on him for second, he finds something to play in, with, on or around. Classic only child behavior that has followed him into his adulthood. We tried to get some photos of Goat in the enormous tortoise shell and me sitting on top for our save the date cards, but they ended up looking like rather awkward. Oh well.
All the displays will be on and running during the reception, so people will be able to learn as they celebrate our love. It will be really fun! And nerdy.
This is near the entrance. Upon arrival our guests will have access to a bar, a band and, as is so typical at wedding receptions, a T-Rex statue.
One of the reasons I love Goat so much is because whenever I turn my back on him for second, he finds something to play in, with, on or around. Classic only child behavior that has followed him into his adulthood. We tried to get some photos of Goat in the enormous tortoise shell and me sitting on top for our save the date cards, but they ended up looking like rather awkward. Oh well.
All the displays will be on and running during the reception, so people will be able to learn as they celebrate our love. It will be really fun! And nerdy.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Fan Club
I have a new fan club. It consists of an older Asian couple who live around the corner. I first saw them at my garage sale in June, they stopped by to look over my goods, not buying anything and not speaking any English. Since then, I have seen them almost every day, shuffling around the neighborhood for what seems like hours, enjoying their surroundings immensely. The husband is either pushing a walker on wheels or his wheelchair and the wife is walking with her hands clasped behind her back or pushing her husband in his chair when he tires. Very dear.
Yesterday, I had to pick a few things up at the pharmacy, so I hopped on my trusty cruiser, Marybeth, and headed down the block. As I cruised up Beaufield Street, I saw the elder Asian couple on their daily constitutional walking toward me. As I came closer, they stopped walking, and started waving and cheering me on like I was in the Tour de France. The husband gave me a creaky thumbs up, and the wife waved her little fists in the air, smiled widely and gave me a few little whoops. It made me giggle, and I waved back thinking how much I loved living in my neighborhood.
Ten minutes later, I was on my way back up Beaufield, heading home with my bicycle basket full of purchases. I saw the couple again, teetering up the street. They stopped as they saw me heading home and again, greeted me with the thumbs up, the cheering and the fist waving. I felt like Lance Armstrong. I waved back.
I don't know if it was the basket on my bike, that I was riding a bike, or just me, but they thought something was worthy of stopping their walk to cheer me on.
I have fans!
Yesterday, I had to pick a few things up at the pharmacy, so I hopped on my trusty cruiser, Marybeth, and headed down the block. As I cruised up Beaufield Street, I saw the elder Asian couple on their daily constitutional walking toward me. As I came closer, they stopped walking, and started waving and cheering me on like I was in the Tour de France. The husband gave me a creaky thumbs up, and the wife waved her little fists in the air, smiled widely and gave me a few little whoops. It made me giggle, and I waved back thinking how much I loved living in my neighborhood.
Ten minutes later, I was on my way back up Beaufield, heading home with my bicycle basket full of purchases. I saw the couple again, teetering up the street. They stopped as they saw me heading home and again, greeted me with the thumbs up, the cheering and the fist waving. I felt like Lance Armstrong. I waved back.
I don't know if it was the basket on my bike, that I was riding a bike, or just me, but they thought something was worthy of stopping their walk to cheer me on.
I have fans!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Creepy McCain
I'm watching the debate.
The one thing that is really off putting is that McCain has yet to look at Obama. Moderator Jim Lerher keeps telling them to talk to each other and not him but McCain flatly refuses to look at Obama. Like he won't even acknowledge him.
Creepy. McCain is sad and creepy.
The one thing that is really off putting is that McCain has yet to look at Obama. Moderator Jim Lerher keeps telling them to talk to each other and not him but McCain flatly refuses to look at Obama. Like he won't even acknowledge him.
Creepy. McCain is sad and creepy.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Ratcha fratcha
Mmmmm, hungry. It's time for breakfast. I just read Mchan's blog entry about breakfast where she made polenta with tomatoes and it sounded like heaven. I have no polenta, so scrammled eggs on corn tortillas with a tad of cheese and salsa will do nicely. Oh, and that guac that I got over the weekend and didn't finish.
Now that's tasty.
I have been refraining from updating my blog for a few reasons.
1) I am sick of talking about McCain and Palin, and I seem to want to talk about them because people are falling for their bullshit left and right (or maybe right and extreme right). I don't agree with their policies, I will be voting for Obama because I agree with many more of his policies. I'm much more interested in making him President than I am in spending that energy bitching about Palin. She's horribly under qualified, she's a rigid fundamentalist with no tolerance for anything outside of her frame of reference and is bad for the future of America. I'm tired of talking about it and tired of having to think about the amount of people who think that voting for McCain/Palin will bring about change. It's positively horrifying and makes me spit lots of anger.
2) I have been planning a wedding and I'm not really interested in turning this into my wedding planning blog. There will be stories, but no day-by-day description of how my dream wedding that I have been planning since childhood is becoming my reality. Gross. I never had a "dream wedding" scenario. While I fantasized about having a partner in crime to kick ass and take names with, I never had the delusion that my wedding day, or one man, would complete me. That idea is poison. Like the term "better half". Goat and I together don't equal one person, we are two individuals that have taken quite a shine to each other and want to conquer the universe together. On top of that, we don't take turns being the better half or the worse half. This whole idea that two people become one on a wedding day is putrid. I worked too damn hard to become who I am and like who I have become and I'll be damned if I'm giving half of it up for someone else. This is not to say that I am unbending, because in a partnership you have to work together and let some shit go, which I do. I'm just saying I'm not giving up vital parts of myself because they seem weird or too independent. Besides, Goat would never let me give those things up, he loves those parts of me. Goat and I came together as individuals, we deeply, deeply, love and respect each other and have a great time together whether we are grocery shopping, playing outside, or what have you. We were each individually complete when we met. Now, together, we are enhanced.
3) I'm on a spiritual path that I'm not quite ready to talk about.
You can plainly see that I am very opinionated these days, election season will do that to a girl.
There will be plenty more insights, opinions and stories to come.
My breakfast was very tasty, I ate as I was typing this. Mmmmmm...
Now that's tasty.
I have been refraining from updating my blog for a few reasons.
1) I am sick of talking about McCain and Palin, and I seem to want to talk about them because people are falling for their bullshit left and right (or maybe right and extreme right). I don't agree with their policies, I will be voting for Obama because I agree with many more of his policies. I'm much more interested in making him President than I am in spending that energy bitching about Palin. She's horribly under qualified, she's a rigid fundamentalist with no tolerance for anything outside of her frame of reference and is bad for the future of America. I'm tired of talking about it and tired of having to think about the amount of people who think that voting for McCain/Palin will bring about change. It's positively horrifying and makes me spit lots of anger.
2) I have been planning a wedding and I'm not really interested in turning this into my wedding planning blog. There will be stories, but no day-by-day description of how my dream wedding that I have been planning since childhood is becoming my reality. Gross. I never had a "dream wedding" scenario. While I fantasized about having a partner in crime to kick ass and take names with, I never had the delusion that my wedding day, or one man, would complete me. That idea is poison. Like the term "better half". Goat and I together don't equal one person, we are two individuals that have taken quite a shine to each other and want to conquer the universe together. On top of that, we don't take turns being the better half or the worse half. This whole idea that two people become one on a wedding day is putrid. I worked too damn hard to become who I am and like who I have become and I'll be damned if I'm giving half of it up for someone else. This is not to say that I am unbending, because in a partnership you have to work together and let some shit go, which I do. I'm just saying I'm not giving up vital parts of myself because they seem weird or too independent. Besides, Goat would never let me give those things up, he loves those parts of me. Goat and I came together as individuals, we deeply, deeply, love and respect each other and have a great time together whether we are grocery shopping, playing outside, or what have you. We were each individually complete when we met. Now, together, we are enhanced.
3) I'm on a spiritual path that I'm not quite ready to talk about.
You can plainly see that I am very opinionated these days, election season will do that to a girl.
There will be plenty more insights, opinions and stories to come.
My breakfast was very tasty, I ate as I was typing this. Mmmmmm...
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Unemployed
Today marks my first day of unemployment.
It feels kind of terrifying and really exciting. I fancy knowing myself pretty well, and I know that if I don't set up some kind of schedule for myself, I will be waking up at 11 am and spending hours online looking up useless things. As much as I'm trying to relax a little, I know how much I have to do and that I'm quite prone to wandering off for hours.
Today I am being a little bit lax, enjoying the freedom and the looming hours that can be filled with countless projects. So far I have read 176 pages of a book Jess loaned me, I have managed to brush my teeth, brush my hair and put some clean clothes on. All before 11 am.
The last few weeks of work had been quiet. I trained my replacements for three weeks and was then paid for another month to be "on call" for any questions or snags they hit. They hit many, as will happen when you lay someone off and give their full time responsibilities to someone that already held a full time position with the company. The replacements ended up being a replacement (the office manager) and I think she's a little overwhelmed. She must have gotten the hang of something because I had gotten one email in the last two weeks asking a question.
Today, I don't have to check my work email many, many times to make sure I am resolving any questions; I don't have to suffer through a call from my supervisor where she rants and raves about how stupid everyone is; I don't have to care about SEO, ad zones or the next sprint. I just don't have to care about that website any more or ever visit it again. It's all a rather large load off my chest and mind and I feel free, it's easier to breathe and I get to forget all kinds of ad trafficking information, freeing up some brain space for new, more suitable information.
My new path includes unemployment followed by college and part time work, wedding planning and my wedding, more college and who knows what else. I'm just excited to not have to give away any energy to the drain of excitable coworkers and work that, while I was good at it, didn't really suit me.
It feels kind of terrifying and really exciting. I fancy knowing myself pretty well, and I know that if I don't set up some kind of schedule for myself, I will be waking up at 11 am and spending hours online looking up useless things. As much as I'm trying to relax a little, I know how much I have to do and that I'm quite prone to wandering off for hours.
Today I am being a little bit lax, enjoying the freedom and the looming hours that can be filled with countless projects. So far I have read 176 pages of a book Jess loaned me, I have managed to brush my teeth, brush my hair and put some clean clothes on. All before 11 am.
The last few weeks of work had been quiet. I trained my replacements for three weeks and was then paid for another month to be "on call" for any questions or snags they hit. They hit many, as will happen when you lay someone off and give their full time responsibilities to someone that already held a full time position with the company. The replacements ended up being a replacement (the office manager) and I think she's a little overwhelmed. She must have gotten the hang of something because I had gotten one email in the last two weeks asking a question.
Today, I don't have to check my work email many, many times to make sure I am resolving any questions; I don't have to suffer through a call from my supervisor where she rants and raves about how stupid everyone is; I don't have to care about SEO, ad zones or the next sprint. I just don't have to care about that website any more or ever visit it again. It's all a rather large load off my chest and mind and I feel free, it's easier to breathe and I get to forget all kinds of ad trafficking information, freeing up some brain space for new, more suitable information.
My new path includes unemployment followed by college and part time work, wedding planning and my wedding, more college and who knows what else. I'm just excited to not have to give away any energy to the drain of excitable coworkers and work that, while I was good at it, didn't really suit me.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Punching a Woman
If there were ever a time to punch a woman, this is it. I'm just wondering if Joe Biden has the balls to smack Sarah Palin down, just as he should in their debate.
I am a feminist. But I will not vote for a woman who has no interest in furthering women as a whole, just one woman, herself. She is Dick Cheney with a vagina and she's a whole lot meaner.
I think that McCain was partially brilliant and partially stupid for choosing Palin. The brilliant part is that she is the pit bull with lipstick (per her quip last night "what's the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull? Lipstick.") and it's going to be tricky for any man to be as vicious as he needs to be to kick her ass. He's going to be accused of being sexist. The stupid part is that McCain has chosen a woman who is, so far, unrelenting, sarcastic, accusatory and an out and out liar. The AP reported a few of the stretched truths and outright lies that were told so far at the Republican convention.
Sarah Palin also spoke about her daughter, the pregnant, teenage one. She first asked that the media leave her out of the press because this is a private family matter and that family members should be off limits. Palin had no problem talking about her son though. He's enlisted and off to Iraq, so she knows what it's like to have a son serving in the war that is "a task from God".
Another note on her daughter. In statements about her daughter's pregnancy, Sarah Palin stated that she "wanted to give her daughter the choice". Funny that because Palin is so anti-abortion, that the only exception that she would grant was a doctors note saying that the mother's life would end if the pregnancy continued. I keep hearing about people who call themselves "pro-life" exercising their reproductive rights, stating that it's different for them. Given Palin's panache for beating people down and getting what she wants, she will kick Roe v. Wade into oblivion if given a chance.
I pray for you Joe Biden. I pray that you have the wit and fortitude to see past Sarah Palin's female sheep's clothing and conquer the sarcastic, uncooperative, hard ass, evangelical wolf that she truly is. She will pull no punches, she will kick you where the sun don't shine. I expect you to do the same if you want to get that VP job.
I am a feminist. But I will not vote for a woman who has no interest in furthering women as a whole, just one woman, herself. She is Dick Cheney with a vagina and she's a whole lot meaner.
I think that McCain was partially brilliant and partially stupid for choosing Palin. The brilliant part is that she is the pit bull with lipstick (per her quip last night "what's the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull? Lipstick.") and it's going to be tricky for any man to be as vicious as he needs to be to kick her ass. He's going to be accused of being sexist. The stupid part is that McCain has chosen a woman who is, so far, unrelenting, sarcastic, accusatory and an out and out liar. The AP reported a few of the stretched truths and outright lies that were told so far at the Republican convention.
Sarah Palin also spoke about her daughter, the pregnant, teenage one. She first asked that the media leave her out of the press because this is a private family matter and that family members should be off limits. Palin had no problem talking about her son though. He's enlisted and off to Iraq, so she knows what it's like to have a son serving in the war that is "a task from God".
Another note on her daughter. In statements about her daughter's pregnancy, Sarah Palin stated that she "wanted to give her daughter the choice". Funny that because Palin is so anti-abortion, that the only exception that she would grant was a doctors note saying that the mother's life would end if the pregnancy continued. I keep hearing about people who call themselves "pro-life" exercising their reproductive rights, stating that it's different for them. Given Palin's panache for beating people down and getting what she wants, she will kick Roe v. Wade into oblivion if given a chance.
I pray for you Joe Biden. I pray that you have the wit and fortitude to see past Sarah Palin's female sheep's clothing and conquer the sarcastic, uncooperative, hard ass, evangelical wolf that she truly is. She will pull no punches, she will kick you where the sun don't shine. I expect you to do the same if you want to get that VP job.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Juno
I've been meaning to comment on the movie Juno since it came out what, over a year ago now? Today is the day so here it is.
I got pregnant at 17, had my son at 18 (on my 18th birthday to be exact) and gave him up for adoption. I was really lucky because my rockin' OB/GYN recommended an adoption agency that allowed a controlled amount of contact between the birth mom and the adoptive family. I met weekly with a case worker who helped me go through the process of picking out a family to whom I would hand over my first born. Throughout the years following, the adoptive parents and I swapped letters and pictures so we were able to keep tabs on every one's progress. It was cool. And weird. And cool. My son and I met a few years ago and I'm loving the relationship that he and I are building.
Since Juno has come out, this story seems to enter conversation more easily. Juno made it a little easier for people to hear it. I never really had a problem talking openly about being a pregnant teen or how weird it was to have 23 people in the waiting room when he was born or swapping letters with the adoptive family, but sometimes people had a hard time hearing it. Juno made it a little easier because it was considered a "light" movie about a serious matter.
In one of the conversations about the movie, the woman I was talking to had a clear distaste of the film. She thought it was too light and glossed over the seriousness of teen pregnancy. She thought it would encourage kids to have sex because the movie just wasn't telling the whole horror story of the terrible awfulness of teen pregnancy. To her it was a light, fluffy movie that was light and fluffy about the wrong subject. She didn't like how the character of Juno was so casual, even jokey about the whole thing. Treating it as if it wasn't that big of a deal. The movie didn't make that part up, being pregnant at 17 wasn't a big deal to me either. It was pretty serious but it wasn't a big deal.
This is the thing that people don't understand. Being 17 and pregnant, isn't that big of a deal when you are actually 17 and pregnant. The mind of a teenager cannot even begin to wrap around the whole enchilada of the reality of child bearing. There is a lack of maturity and worldliness that no matter who you are at 17, comes with the limitations of being 17.
I completely freaked out when my doctor told me I was pregnant. All I could think about was my life being over. I had no idea what I was going to do or how I was going to tell my mother. Which I didn't, by the way, I made the doctor tell her. But after I found out and told the people I was most afraid to tell, I started to calm down and I realized that everything was going to be fine. I knew that I was going to give my baby up for adoption, that it would be hard and weird but not impossible and certainly not the end of my life. I was smart enough to know that I couldn't handle raising a kid. Not because my 17 year old brain could grasp the hugeness of parenthood, mostly because I had things I wanted to do and I knew raising a child would keep me from doing them. My brain just kind of stayed in this happy-go-lucky place and I had a great time being pregnant, hanging out with my friends and being the center of attention.
It's only as I've gotten older and have both a relationship with my son and a large stash of photos and letters documenting his aging process that I start to get my head around what I actually did. I remember adults telling me, while I was pregnant and in the few years following, how incredibly brave they thought I was. How selfless and strong I was to have gone through both a pregnancy and giving a child up for adoption as such a young age. At the time I heard these comments, I shrugged them off. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, because at the time it wasn't. The older I get, however, the bigger of a deal it seems. "Wow!" I think to myself now, "I really did that?!?" and I get all impressed with how smart I was when I was 17. Then, I actually remember being 17 and it wasn't about being smart and selfless, it was about being 17.
I see pregnant teens here and there, mostly on Maury Povich and the like. I hear about the girls at Gloucester High and I wonder where those people are who poo poo movies like Juno for making teenage pregnancy look easy and fun. Are they out there trying to tell these girls that children don't unconditionally love you because you gave birth to them? Are they trying to get some reasonable sex education or contraception in the high schools? Are they working to stop vilifying abortion? I sure as hell hope so. We need less kids trying to raise babies with such a limited experience of the world. Teaching them differently would be the mature, adult thing to do.
I got pregnant at 17, had my son at 18 (on my 18th birthday to be exact) and gave him up for adoption. I was really lucky because my rockin' OB/GYN recommended an adoption agency that allowed a controlled amount of contact between the birth mom and the adoptive family. I met weekly with a case worker who helped me go through the process of picking out a family to whom I would hand over my first born. Throughout the years following, the adoptive parents and I swapped letters and pictures so we were able to keep tabs on every one's progress. It was cool. And weird. And cool. My son and I met a few years ago and I'm loving the relationship that he and I are building.
Since Juno has come out, this story seems to enter conversation more easily. Juno made it a little easier for people to hear it. I never really had a problem talking openly about being a pregnant teen or how weird it was to have 23 people in the waiting room when he was born or swapping letters with the adoptive family, but sometimes people had a hard time hearing it. Juno made it a little easier because it was considered a "light" movie about a serious matter.
In one of the conversations about the movie, the woman I was talking to had a clear distaste of the film. She thought it was too light and glossed over the seriousness of teen pregnancy. She thought it would encourage kids to have sex because the movie just wasn't telling the whole horror story of the terrible awfulness of teen pregnancy. To her it was a light, fluffy movie that was light and fluffy about the wrong subject. She didn't like how the character of Juno was so casual, even jokey about the whole thing. Treating it as if it wasn't that big of a deal. The movie didn't make that part up, being pregnant at 17 wasn't a big deal to me either. It was pretty serious but it wasn't a big deal.
This is the thing that people don't understand. Being 17 and pregnant, isn't that big of a deal when you are actually 17 and pregnant. The mind of a teenager cannot even begin to wrap around the whole enchilada of the reality of child bearing. There is a lack of maturity and worldliness that no matter who you are at 17, comes with the limitations of being 17.
I completely freaked out when my doctor told me I was pregnant. All I could think about was my life being over. I had no idea what I was going to do or how I was going to tell my mother. Which I didn't, by the way, I made the doctor tell her. But after I found out and told the people I was most afraid to tell, I started to calm down and I realized that everything was going to be fine. I knew that I was going to give my baby up for adoption, that it would be hard and weird but not impossible and certainly not the end of my life. I was smart enough to know that I couldn't handle raising a kid. Not because my 17 year old brain could grasp the hugeness of parenthood, mostly because I had things I wanted to do and I knew raising a child would keep me from doing them. My brain just kind of stayed in this happy-go-lucky place and I had a great time being pregnant, hanging out with my friends and being the center of attention.
It's only as I've gotten older and have both a relationship with my son and a large stash of photos and letters documenting his aging process that I start to get my head around what I actually did. I remember adults telling me, while I was pregnant and in the few years following, how incredibly brave they thought I was. How selfless and strong I was to have gone through both a pregnancy and giving a child up for adoption as such a young age. At the time I heard these comments, I shrugged them off. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, because at the time it wasn't. The older I get, however, the bigger of a deal it seems. "Wow!" I think to myself now, "I really did that?!?" and I get all impressed with how smart I was when I was 17. Then, I actually remember being 17 and it wasn't about being smart and selfless, it was about being 17.
I see pregnant teens here and there, mostly on Maury Povich and the like. I hear about the girls at Gloucester High and I wonder where those people are who poo poo movies like Juno for making teenage pregnancy look easy and fun. Are they out there trying to tell these girls that children don't unconditionally love you because you gave birth to them? Are they trying to get some reasonable sex education or contraception in the high schools? Are they working to stop vilifying abortion? I sure as hell hope so. We need less kids trying to raise babies with such a limited experience of the world. Teaching them differently would be the mature, adult thing to do.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Good Reads and missing Flea
On Monday, I got an email from Tinny asking me to join her as a friend on the Good Reads site. Every here and again I will get a friend or family member asking me to join them on some social networking site and I always say no. Not cause I'm a jerk but because I don't want to expend energy on keeping up with it. My days seem short enough and I rarely, if ever, go to bed wishing I would have spent more time online. I prefer to keep in touch via email and phone calls and I find many of the social networking sites to be a very insincere way of communicating. I have a My Space account and I check in on it about once every month or so. I have thought of deleting my account on many occasions, but I do like to spend 15 minutes every now and then catching up on what my more distant friends on My Space are doing (as I only have my actual friends of mine as "Friends"). A little catch up, and then I'm off to go play outside.
Upon receiving the Good Reads invite from Tinny, my inner whiner started to crank up. "Jesus" it wheezed "another one of these stupid sties that will suck up my time and I will never check my profile and how can I possibly fit this kind of crap into my day? I have dishes to do and financial aid to find so I can go to school, I don't have time for this shit."
As a gesture of good will (and because I love Tinny) I went to the website to at least look at what it was about. It's a website where you build a personal book list. You list stuff you've read, stuff you want to read, and give little mini reviews. It will recommend similar books and when you get some friends, you share books and thoughts about books. Well, being an avid reader, the kind that would blow off going out with friends to finish a good book, I loved this site!! I don't know what the hell happened, but it triggered this excitement and kid like need to blow off everything and read fiction all the time. I started to compile my list of well loved books and write little reviews and the next thing I knew, it was two hours later and I have a huge pile of books on my virtual "already read" shelf. That was two hours I was supposed to spend creating a training manual for the kids who are going to be taking over my job, but it was so much more fun to talk about books!
I pine for the days where I had time to read for hours on end. I could probably find some more of that time if I stopped talking to people, completely ceased housekeeping (or hired a cleaning lady, something that I long to afford) stopped working and blew off planning my wedding. Plus, I'm so busy trying to know so many things that I have relegated myself to reading lots of nonfiction in the four or five minutes before going to sleep at night. Needless to say these days it takes a long time to read anything and I end up feeling kind of gypped. I want the cake of my nerdy bookworm life and to eat the joy of my currently life too.
While I was madly filling out review after review of delicious book after book on my new Good Reads profile, I started to miss Flea. Flea is the bass player for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. For those of you who have known me since high school, you will remember a time where I was entirely obsessed with the RHCP and was pretty sure they were writing entire albums just for me (specifically Blood Sugar Sex Magick). Every interview in every magazine I could get my mittens on was like gospel to me. At one point or another, each individual band member became my personal messiah. One interview featured a photo spread showing Flea lying on his back with a copy of "Jitterbug Perfume" next to him and he talked about how he loved that book and why. I had just read this wonderful novel myself and took it to be a sign that he and I were forever bonded.
Over the years, as I have replaced rock star obsessions with neato discoveries of me, the obsession with Flea and the RHCP has faded into laughable memory. Then came Fleamail. While on tour touting the By The Way album, Flea checked in with fans via the band website with his Fleamail. Day after day he would talk about the cool stuff he got to see and experience while on tour and he would always talk about what he was reading. I have found so many of the books he read and liked to be books I read and liked. He had such a great way of talking about books that I found myself obsessed again. I couldn't wait to get another recommendation from him. I read and loved every book he wrote about.
That was many years ago. He has since made a new album and on that tour was busy being in love with his wife and new baby. Gone were his book recommendations in his Fleamail. In their place were beautiful tidbits about hiking in the forest with his baby strapped onto his back or his tribute to Patti Smith or his devotion to Ornette Coleman. I can't blame him, I'm in love with Goat and when we have a baby (eventually) I won't read much either; I love Tom Waits and write about him all the time and will be writing about wedding plans and going to college for the first time at the age of 36. I understand that life comes in waves and each one you catch is a different part of the ride. On my current wave I'll get my book fix from the friends I make on Good Reads.
I just miss Fleamail.
Upon receiving the Good Reads invite from Tinny, my inner whiner started to crank up. "Jesus" it wheezed "another one of these stupid sties that will suck up my time and I will never check my profile and how can I possibly fit this kind of crap into my day? I have dishes to do and financial aid to find so I can go to school, I don't have time for this shit."
As a gesture of good will (and because I love Tinny) I went to the website to at least look at what it was about. It's a website where you build a personal book list. You list stuff you've read, stuff you want to read, and give little mini reviews. It will recommend similar books and when you get some friends, you share books and thoughts about books. Well, being an avid reader, the kind that would blow off going out with friends to finish a good book, I loved this site!! I don't know what the hell happened, but it triggered this excitement and kid like need to blow off everything and read fiction all the time. I started to compile my list of well loved books and write little reviews and the next thing I knew, it was two hours later and I have a huge pile of books on my virtual "already read" shelf. That was two hours I was supposed to spend creating a training manual for the kids who are going to be taking over my job, but it was so much more fun to talk about books!
I pine for the days where I had time to read for hours on end. I could probably find some more of that time if I stopped talking to people, completely ceased housekeeping (or hired a cleaning lady, something that I long to afford) stopped working and blew off planning my wedding. Plus, I'm so busy trying to know so many things that I have relegated myself to reading lots of nonfiction in the four or five minutes before going to sleep at night. Needless to say these days it takes a long time to read anything and I end up feeling kind of gypped. I want the cake of my nerdy bookworm life and to eat the joy of my currently life too.
While I was madly filling out review after review of delicious book after book on my new Good Reads profile, I started to miss Flea. Flea is the bass player for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. For those of you who have known me since high school, you will remember a time where I was entirely obsessed with the RHCP and was pretty sure they were writing entire albums just for me (specifically Blood Sugar Sex Magick). Every interview in every magazine I could get my mittens on was like gospel to me. At one point or another, each individual band member became my personal messiah. One interview featured a photo spread showing Flea lying on his back with a copy of "Jitterbug Perfume" next to him and he talked about how he loved that book and why. I had just read this wonderful novel myself and took it to be a sign that he and I were forever bonded.
Over the years, as I have replaced rock star obsessions with neato discoveries of me, the obsession with Flea and the RHCP has faded into laughable memory. Then came Fleamail. While on tour touting the By The Way album, Flea checked in with fans via the band website with his Fleamail. Day after day he would talk about the cool stuff he got to see and experience while on tour and he would always talk about what he was reading. I have found so many of the books he read and liked to be books I read and liked. He had such a great way of talking about books that I found myself obsessed again. I couldn't wait to get another recommendation from him. I read and loved every book he wrote about.
That was many years ago. He has since made a new album and on that tour was busy being in love with his wife and new baby. Gone were his book recommendations in his Fleamail. In their place were beautiful tidbits about hiking in the forest with his baby strapped onto his back or his tribute to Patti Smith or his devotion to Ornette Coleman. I can't blame him, I'm in love with Goat and when we have a baby (eventually) I won't read much either; I love Tom Waits and write about him all the time and will be writing about wedding plans and going to college for the first time at the age of 36. I understand that life comes in waves and each one you catch is a different part of the ride. On my current wave I'll get my book fix from the friends I make on Good Reads.
I just miss Fleamail.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Addendum to CANning
Addendum to being CANned.
I just had a good chat with my ad director and the poor woman had to know about me being let go for two weeks before it happened. When you work as closely as she and I have worked over the last two years, it has to be tough to know that your counterpart is being let go. No wonder she acted weird for the last few weeks. It sounded like she was waiting for me to contact her first after the meeting, she didn't want me to feel pushed. She's off my brown list.
So I'm a little less bitter, but just as freaked out.
I just had a good chat with my ad director and the poor woman had to know about me being let go for two weeks before it happened. When you work as closely as she and I have worked over the last two years, it has to be tough to know that your counterpart is being let go. No wonder she acted weird for the last few weeks. It sounded like she was waiting for me to contact her first after the meeting, she didn't want me to feel pushed. She's off my brown list.
So I'm a little less bitter, but just as freaked out.