After the whole aluminum thing, I've been thinking a lot more about what I put into/on/near my body. One of the things I found was a blog called Green Living Q and A, which covers some thoughts on green living, including discussion of the whole aluminum debate. Some of the things I've learned so far:
- Juice is not that much better than sugar water. I kind of suspected this was true. Apparently consuming high levels of fructose increases the risk of heart disease and Type 2 diabetes. So, I guess I'm going to have to try drinking less of that. Mostly, there days, I'm drinking pop (I know! It's one of my few vices, and everyone gets a few, right?) and Arnold Palmer's, which my Dad is obsessed with.
- PVC is unhealthy for you. Now that I've read this, I remember it, but I'm wondering how the heck I could have forgotten that. Now I feel bad for admiring so much PVC clothing over the years. And it looks like leather is not necessarily a good option either. Other fabrics I shouldn't apparently want include EcoSpun Fabric.
- Christmas lights have chemicals, but there are kinds out there that have less chemicals. The European Union (God bless them!) certify a type of Christmas lights as "RoHA compliant," which just means that they have less chemicals than other lights. (How much is unclear to me.)
- Wall decals are made of vinyl. Which is dangerous (see the PVC comment above.) Great. There goes my easy, Etsy-encouraged decorating idea. Also, vinyl wallpaper and paint are dangerous, so I'm wondering what I am going to be able to use to decorate my walls. I'm in trouble if I'm not allowed posters or framed art. I was thinking of making a display on my ceiling of those Chinese paper lanterns, but not I'm afraid to even research what might be in them, especially given that China does not have such a great record when it comes to lead.
- Heartworm Preventing Medications aren't that different from pesticides. This I can blame on having a rabbit as a young girl as one of my few pets. (My other pets? Insects. No kidding.) I bet Jennifer, animal expert and fellow aluminum shunner, would have something to say about this, so I'm going to have to remember to ask her next chance I get.
Also, I found some new research on aluminum through the blog, including this one detailing how it is related to Alzheimer's. This pdf also talks about aluminum levels in various everyday stuff. I find this one particularly scary, since it appears to be a lot of stuff. It says that it's in pop cans, which I guess means I'm going to prefer bottled pop from now on. They're also in clay cat litter, so I guess if I ever get that cat I was thinking of getting, I'm going to have to be careful of that. There's also this study that details aluminum in tea. One of the people over at Jane Austen Today once discussed herself as a tea snob, and I guess I am in some ways too, but this study is now putting me off of tea.
One of the many things that comes up on this blog a lot is how people are chemically sensitive. It seems like way more people are chemically sensitive than I would have guessed. It also makes me wonder what causes it, because I can't really think of a time I've been overly sensitive to a chemical.
I find this stuff exhausting. Nothing is apparently safe. I hated Walden, but reading this stuff makes me want to pack my bags and go live out in the wilderness.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Mauled
My Dad has this thing were he likes to go and walk around the Mall. As someone who likes walks, this appeals to me. As someone who doesn't like shopping, it's location does not. But I decided I needed to get out today, so I went.
It's been a really long time since I've been to the Mall. I've been living elsewhere and when I am around, I'm usually too busy to even think about something like this. The place hasn't changed much, honestly, but in the bad economy, a lot of stores have closed down. It was kind of sad. There were whole blocks of nothing.
While we were walking about, my Dad noticed a sign advertising new aluminum-free deodorant at the Body Shop. I've mentioned before that I'm on the hunt for aluminum-free products, the first one being deodorant. Jennifer already pointed me to a place that sells some, and I like it so far. It's good to know there are other options out there. The guy was really shocked to see me so enthusiastic about the stuff. Once you've read the research, you will be too, trust me.
I also hit up my favorite store at the Mall: Hot Topic.
I know that a lot of people like to hate on Hot Topic. I can understand that, on the outside, it might look like a terrible thing. But when I was a young girl and discovering my Goth-i-ness, Hot Topic was the only store I could go to for the things that were close to what I wanted for self-expression. When you're only going to be able to buy stuff you save your allowance for and don't have your own car, a place like Hot Topic, which is accessible and relatively cheap, is a Godsend. And really, most of the stores in Malls across America sell the same basic looks, and they always change based on "what's in" in mainstream fashion. If you want something different, Hot Topic is one of the few distinctly differently places.
I also went in to check on one of my friends, who I haven't seen in four years. He's changed so much. He has a beard that reminds me of Daniel's. He's still super hot. (Why did I not date him when I had the chance? He's clearly perfect for me.)
He was giving me the scoop on some mutual friends. Emily graduated. Jack is awesome and amazing, as I already knew since I saw him six weeks ago.
What surprised me was what he said about Ben and Shannon. Ben is my ex-boyfriend who I haven't seen in years either. Not because we had a fight or anything, we just grew apart, and, strangely, not even over our breakup. (We were really good friends in the two years after the breakup.) I knew that Ben and Shannon got married this past December.
What I didn't know was that they had packed up and moved last week for South Carolina. They both got teaching jobs. Ben once told me that I would probably end of teaching at the college level and he would probably teach high school. Now, at the very least, the last part has become completely true. And of course, I would be happy to teach at a college, but I don't know if that's ever going to work out. There are no guarantees in life.
I have mixed feelings about them moving. On one hand, I'm sad there's no chance of me running into them, since I like them so much. On the other hand, Ben had this fatalist thing going on when I was younger about how he would never leave our hometown, and he would live here forever, just like countless generations of his family before him. I'm glad to hear he actually got out of here, even if it's before me.
It's been a really long time since I've been to the Mall. I've been living elsewhere and when I am around, I'm usually too busy to even think about something like this. The place hasn't changed much, honestly, but in the bad economy, a lot of stores have closed down. It was kind of sad. There were whole blocks of nothing.
While we were walking about, my Dad noticed a sign advertising new aluminum-free deodorant at the Body Shop. I've mentioned before that I'm on the hunt for aluminum-free products, the first one being deodorant. Jennifer already pointed me to a place that sells some, and I like it so far. It's good to know there are other options out there. The guy was really shocked to see me so enthusiastic about the stuff. Once you've read the research, you will be too, trust me.
I also hit up my favorite store at the Mall: Hot Topic.
I know that a lot of people like to hate on Hot Topic. I can understand that, on the outside, it might look like a terrible thing. But when I was a young girl and discovering my Goth-i-ness, Hot Topic was the only store I could go to for the things that were close to what I wanted for self-expression. When you're only going to be able to buy stuff you save your allowance for and don't have your own car, a place like Hot Topic, which is accessible and relatively cheap, is a Godsend. And really, most of the stores in Malls across America sell the same basic looks, and they always change based on "what's in" in mainstream fashion. If you want something different, Hot Topic is one of the few distinctly differently places.
I also went in to check on one of my friends, who I haven't seen in four years. He's changed so much. He has a beard that reminds me of Daniel's. He's still super hot. (Why did I not date him when I had the chance? He's clearly perfect for me.)
He was giving me the scoop on some mutual friends. Emily graduated. Jack is awesome and amazing, as I already knew since I saw him six weeks ago.
What surprised me was what he said about Ben and Shannon. Ben is my ex-boyfriend who I haven't seen in years either. Not because we had a fight or anything, we just grew apart, and, strangely, not even over our breakup. (We were really good friends in the two years after the breakup.) I knew that Ben and Shannon got married this past December.
What I didn't know was that they had packed up and moved last week for South Carolina. They both got teaching jobs. Ben once told me that I would probably end of teaching at the college level and he would probably teach high school. Now, at the very least, the last part has become completely true. And of course, I would be happy to teach at a college, but I don't know if that's ever going to work out. There are no guarantees in life.
I have mixed feelings about them moving. On one hand, I'm sad there's no chance of me running into them, since I like them so much. On the other hand, Ben had this fatalist thing going on when I was younger about how he would never leave our hometown, and he would live here forever, just like countless generations of his family before him. I'm glad to hear he actually got out of here, even if it's before me.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Night at Grandma's
It looks like I am going to spend tonight at my Grandma's. It's not that big of a deal, but after all that has happened today, my Grandma threw up right as my Mom (who is also with me here tonight) got her into bed. She was literally sitting on the side of the bed.
I don't really want to spend the night here, since the power has gone back on now at home, but there's not a lot of choice in the matter. I'm just grateful I don't have to go to church tomorrow.
I watched a little of SNL tonight, which featured Taylor Lautner. Like I've said before, I don't like Twilight, but I'm falling further in love with Taylor Lautner. He's so sweet, and I get the feeling that he is at his happiest when performing, as all great actors are. I love that he can't give an interview for beans.
Oh God. Am I emotionally cheating on my current celebrity boyfriend, Vincent?
I'm so sad Lautner is going to GVSU, a school not so far from my school. In my imaginary world, I totally charm Lautner, not by throwing myself at him or by dolling myself up, but through my wit, like Elizabeth Bennet. This is, I know, crazy talk.
I texted my sister, since my Mom told me she likes Lautner. This surprised me, because, well, she hates reading, so there's no way in hell she's read the books. And she never mentioned the movies. It's good to know that we have the same taste in men in at least one way. Usually we totally disagree.
Then I texted Nate, since he thinks Lautner is a moron. He complains that he sounds like an idiot in interviews. I disagree, obviously. I just think he's nervous when he gives interviews, afraid he's going to say something stupid. As someone who has given interviews before, I can tell you it's nerve wracking, especially when the interviewer comes at you with something you didn't expect. And I've said some super stupid things during interviews. It's like a curse I have.
Nate and I talked a little, giggling over stuff. I love him so much. He's a nice boy.
My Mom is falling in and out of sleep as I move around in the apartment doing things. I'm trying to read through that romance novel that I mentioned.
So far, it's been okay. There's been some explaining of Amish culture, which I like. The character keeps talking about how obedient she is, and that drives me nuts. I hate hearing about women who are obedient. Seriously, it's the most famous archetype for women, right behind women who are sluts and leave the narrator/stand-in for author all confused as to what women want.
The other thing this book discusses is the tourist trade associated with the Amish. Josie is into the Amish (she likes to take pictures of them, which I quietly disapprove of.) But I was thinking, maybe if I ever make some money worth talking about, I'll buy her a weekend trip to Pennsylvania to see the Amish. She'd love it. And how expensive could it be, really, since the Amish are notoriously old-timey.
Of course, what I should be doing is watching the end of this season of Doctor Who, but there are other distractions, like my Grandma getting up in the middle of the night. She just threw up again. Christine has been talking about the season finale all day, making vague illusions to what happened. I want to yell at her to stop, because, seriously, it's annoying me.
This is the first time I've ever spent the night at her new place. It's going to be kind of strange to see how it compares to when I was a kid and spent the night at her place.
I don't really want to spend the night here, since the power has gone back on now at home, but there's not a lot of choice in the matter. I'm just grateful I don't have to go to church tomorrow.
I'm so sad Lautner is going to GVSU, a school not so far from my school. In my imaginary world, I totally charm Lautner, not by throwing myself at him or by dolling myself up, but through my wit, like Elizabeth Bennet. This is, I know, crazy talk.
I texted my sister, since my Mom told me she likes Lautner. This surprised me, because, well, she hates reading, so there's no way in hell she's read the books. And she never mentioned the movies. It's good to know that we have the same taste in men in at least one way. Usually we totally disagree.
Then I texted Nate, since he thinks Lautner is a moron. He complains that he sounds like an idiot in interviews. I disagree, obviously. I just think he's nervous when he gives interviews, afraid he's going to say something stupid. As someone who has given interviews before, I can tell you it's nerve wracking, especially when the interviewer comes at you with something you didn't expect. And I've said some super stupid things during interviews. It's like a curse I have.
Nate and I talked a little, giggling over stuff. I love him so much. He's a nice boy.
My Mom is falling in and out of sleep as I move around in the apartment doing things. I'm trying to read through that romance novel that I mentioned.
So far, it's been okay. There's been some explaining of Amish culture, which I like. The character keeps talking about how obedient she is, and that drives me nuts. I hate hearing about women who are obedient. Seriously, it's the most famous archetype for women, right behind women who are sluts and leave the narrator/stand-in for author all confused as to what women want.
The other thing this book discusses is the tourist trade associated with the Amish. Josie is into the Amish (she likes to take pictures of them, which I quietly disapprove of.) But I was thinking, maybe if I ever make some money worth talking about, I'll buy her a weekend trip to Pennsylvania to see the Amish. She'd love it. And how expensive could it be, really, since the Amish are notoriously old-timey.
Of course, what I should be doing is watching the end of this season of Doctor Who, but there are other distractions, like my Grandma getting up in the middle of the night. She just threw up again. Christine has been talking about the season finale all day, making vague illusions to what happened. I want to yell at her to stop, because, seriously, it's annoying me.
This is the first time I've ever spent the night at her new place. It's going to be kind of strange to see how it compares to when I was a kid and spent the night at her place.
Power Down pt. 2
I sat and cut out coupons today. It's the first time I've done so in years, and it was enlightening.
For example, when did they start putting in coupons for condoms? I was tempted to cut that coupon out, but on the off chance one of my parents saw it, I decided not to.
After that, my Dad and I went out for an early dinner. My Dad had been planning some culinary adventure, but without power, he was unable to start.
We talked about plans for my future education. I repeated some of the things I've been saying several times, and my Dad reacted to them as if they were totally new. This is always a little disappointing, because it means he's not listening to me.
We had dinner. Our waiter, Erik, was very cute in a clearly-a-Scandinavian way. I imagined him dressed as a Viking. I imagined the two of us in one of those Viking romance novels. (Only, one without so much misogyny.) He acted shocked when I ordered alcohol and had an id that indicated I was of age.
As we were eating, my Mom called. She had gone over to Elizabeth's house to watch her daughter for Elizabeth. This really annoys me. Like I said before, Elizabeth is cheap when it comes to babysitting, even though we are family friends and she is forever expecting me to just watch her kid. So last night when my Mom asked me to babysit for her, I said no. I said I'd rather watch my Grandma, where I wouldn't be responsible for constantly entertaining her and could get some of my own work done.
So, apparently this means that my Mom has to pick up the slack. Elizabeth knows that my Mom is crazy busy and stressed, since that's all she talks about. Elizabeth takes advantage of us, and my Mom lets her.
Sorry, I didn't mean to digress.
Anyway, my Mom called, asking my Dad and I to bring her food for her and my sister (who decided to drop by Elizabeth's house too...). So we got a salad and some crispy chicken.
I took a moment to check my email at Elizabeth's house, because they actually had power, unlike us.
The my sister mentioned that she had left the front door unlocked. Usually, she's so much smarter than that. Instead of calling us to ask for help, she just left.
We don't live in a really dangerous neighborhood, but every year people in the neighborhood get robbed. It's almost on clockwork. A group of people comes in around two or three at night, opens whatever doors or cars they can, and takes everything out and litters the stuff in front of the house. And then groups drive by and pick through, taking what they want.
For example, when did they start putting in coupons for condoms? I was tempted to cut that coupon out, but on the off chance one of my parents saw it, I decided not to.
After that, my Dad and I went out for an early dinner. My Dad had been planning some culinary adventure, but without power, he was unable to start.
We talked about plans for my future education. I repeated some of the things I've been saying several times, and my Dad reacted to them as if they were totally new. This is always a little disappointing, because it means he's not listening to me.
We had dinner. Our waiter, Erik, was very cute in a clearly-a-Scandinavian way. I imagined him dressed as a Viking. I imagined the two of us in one of those Viking romance novels. (Only, one without so much misogyny.) He acted shocked when I ordered alcohol and had an id that indicated I was of age.
As we were eating, my Mom called. She had gone over to Elizabeth's house to watch her daughter for Elizabeth. This really annoys me. Like I said before, Elizabeth is cheap when it comes to babysitting, even though we are family friends and she is forever expecting me to just watch her kid. So last night when my Mom asked me to babysit for her, I said no. I said I'd rather watch my Grandma, where I wouldn't be responsible for constantly entertaining her and could get some of my own work done.
So, apparently this means that my Mom has to pick up the slack. Elizabeth knows that my Mom is crazy busy and stressed, since that's all she talks about. Elizabeth takes advantage of us, and my Mom lets her.
Sorry, I didn't mean to digress.
Anyway, my Mom called, asking my Dad and I to bring her food for her and my sister (who decided to drop by Elizabeth's house too...). So we got a salad and some crispy chicken.
I took a moment to check my email at Elizabeth's house, because they actually had power, unlike us.
The my sister mentioned that she had left the front door unlocked. Usually, she's so much smarter than that. Instead of calling us to ask for help, she just left.
We don't live in a really dangerous neighborhood, but every year people in the neighborhood get robbed. It's almost on clockwork. A group of people comes in around two or three at night, opens whatever doors or cars they can, and takes everything out and litters the stuff in front of the house. And then groups drive by and pick through, taking what they want.
Friday, June 25, 2010
They Don't Pay Me Enough to Do This
My Mom, among other things, runs her own business. This apparently means that I am required to help out with it. Not my sister or Dad, of course, but me.
Yesterday, I was trying to eat some thin crusted pizza, and my Mom was upset that I wasn't helping her at that moment. I had spent the morning visiting my Grandma and taking care of her. It was 4:30 and I hadn't had anything to eat since 9:30 that morning. It annoys me a little that she was like that, but I decided to treat her with the sort of patience I suspect elementary school teachers use on a particularly bad kid: ignoring her as much as possible.
Once I got done, I did start helping her with stuff. She asked me to stuff envelopes. She has all this stuff she wants me to put in each one, and that's fine, I can do that, but of course I need all the materials. She flew around trying to find all of them. I turned on the tv and watched some nature program about predators on the African Serengeti. I'm glad no one gave me a hard time about what I was watching.
As I was working on that, my Mom's friend Elizabeth came over. I don't really like Elizabeth. There's something off about her that I'm still struggling to put my finger on. I get the distinct impression she wishes she was my Mom, or at least her daughter. She has my Mom's same terrible haircut and runs everything in her life like my Mom does.
One of the other things that irks me about her is that she brought her toddler over. I don't really like kids, but every time that she comes over she almost always brings her toddler over, and it doesn't matter what I am doing, my Mom plops her down in front of me with the directions to "watch her." I hate that because they treat me like I'm at beck and call for unpaid babysitting time. In addition to that, when I actually go over to Elizabeth's house to babysit her kid, I get paid about 2.20 an hour, which for those of you not up on babysitting wages, it's terrible. Normal babysitting is at least seven, honestly, and when you count the impromptu time, I deserve so much more than 2.20 an hour. So when I saw the toddler come into the house, my heart fell. Oh please, I thought, don't make me watch her.
Luckily, my Mom had other tasks for me. I found myself more than happy to do those. I stuffed more envelopes and switched to Doctor Who, which was showing the finale to season three. I love Doctor Who, and my favorite companion (so far!) is Martha, so this cheered my up considerably.
I texted Matt, telling him that it was on (he's a fan too). We haven't talked since last week, on our dinner that was almost certainly a date. He told me he was out but that he'd look into it.
Other friends of my Mom's started coming into the house. There are very few of her friends that I like, and she seems to get closer to one's I particularly dislike. Several of those women came in. One of them asked what I was watching. "Doctor Who," I answered. They were mostly too busy with some stuff they were helping my Mom out with, including making some food. My Dad was baking some kind of Raspberry Crumble Cake, which meant he was going to ask me three or four times if I tried it and what I thought of it. One of the few good things about my Mom's business is that she usually has some food around when people come by, and that always means I'm allowed to have some of it too.
After I finished stuffing envelopes, she had all these prizes she was giving away, so would I please stuff those too? Okay. I began doing that. As I did, Elizabeth's daughter bounced around on our couch's headboard. Elizabeth yelled at her a few times to no avail.
Yesterday, I was trying to eat some thin crusted pizza, and my Mom was upset that I wasn't helping her at that moment. I had spent the morning visiting my Grandma and taking care of her. It was 4:30 and I hadn't had anything to eat since 9:30 that morning. It annoys me a little that she was like that, but I decided to treat her with the sort of patience I suspect elementary school teachers use on a particularly bad kid: ignoring her as much as possible.
Once I got done, I did start helping her with stuff. She asked me to stuff envelopes. She has all this stuff she wants me to put in each one, and that's fine, I can do that, but of course I need all the materials. She flew around trying to find all of them. I turned on the tv and watched some nature program about predators on the African Serengeti. I'm glad no one gave me a hard time about what I was watching.
As I was working on that, my Mom's friend Elizabeth came over. I don't really like Elizabeth. There's something off about her that I'm still struggling to put my finger on. I get the distinct impression she wishes she was my Mom, or at least her daughter. She has my Mom's same terrible haircut and runs everything in her life like my Mom does.
One of the other things that irks me about her is that she brought her toddler over. I don't really like kids, but every time that she comes over she almost always brings her toddler over, and it doesn't matter what I am doing, my Mom plops her down in front of me with the directions to "watch her." I hate that because they treat me like I'm at beck and call for unpaid babysitting time. In addition to that, when I actually go over to Elizabeth's house to babysit her kid, I get paid about 2.20 an hour, which for those of you not up on babysitting wages, it's terrible. Normal babysitting is at least seven, honestly, and when you count the impromptu time, I deserve so much more than 2.20 an hour. So when I saw the toddler come into the house, my heart fell. Oh please, I thought, don't make me watch her.
I texted Matt, telling him that it was on (he's a fan too). We haven't talked since last week, on our dinner that was almost certainly a date. He told me he was out but that he'd look into it.
Other friends of my Mom's started coming into the house. There are very few of her friends that I like, and she seems to get closer to one's I particularly dislike. Several of those women came in. One of them asked what I was watching. "Doctor Who," I answered. They were mostly too busy with some stuff they were helping my Mom out with, including making some food. My Dad was baking some kind of Raspberry Crumble Cake, which meant he was going to ask me three or four times if I tried it and what I thought of it. One of the few good things about my Mom's business is that she usually has some food around when people come by, and that always means I'm allowed to have some of it too.
After I finished stuffing envelopes, she had all these prizes she was giving away, so would I please stuff those too? Okay. I began doing that. As I did, Elizabeth's daughter bounced around on our couch's headboard. Elizabeth yelled at her a few times to no avail.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Dinner with Tori and Lisa
I went out to dinner with Tori and Lisa last night. We had a nice time. We've been thinking of seeing some movies. I already explained last month how I feel about Marmaduke, which is out right now. I told Tori that I didn't want to see The Last Airbender the first weekend it came out because there's a boycott against it for casting white actors in Asian roles. I do want to see Despicable Me, which Lisa, in her never ending hunt for cute things, is totally game for.
Lisa updated us on all the drama going on in her life. I feel bad for her, because most of it sounds like stuff she can't control. Of course, I have, on occasion, way more drama, and most of the time I can't control it either.
Lisa is such a sweet, well intentioned girl. She has the sunniest outlook on life. (For example, Lisa has stuffed animals in the backseat of her car, all buckled into an actually seat. It's pretty adorable and hilarious.) Her brother is going to be shipped off to the army soon. I guess I'll just have to pray for him too, as part of my long list of people I'm praying for (certain family member, Josie, Nick's little brother, Nathan, etc...).
Tori, Lisa and I talked a little out in the parking lot last night. I don't know what it is about our town, but because there's so little to do, it seems like we always end up in a parking lot somewhere.
We might see each other this weekend. If not, we've already seen so much of each other. Ashley's off on vacation right now, so we'll see her again once she comes back.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Souring
On the way home this afternoon from visiting my Grandma, my Mom carried on and on about her busy week and how I need to help her. I don't know why, but I'm already bored to tears listening about her plans for this week, and it's only Tuesday. I just wanted to listen to some dance music and think. Maybe it was my strange dream last night, but I guess I've been irritable and less than patient with everyone today.
Maybe everyone else around me sensed my bad mood, because I've been left alone for the last few hours as I work on some writing and blogging like this.
Maybe everyone else around me sensed my bad mood, because I've been left alone for the last few hours as I work on some writing and blogging like this.
The Jung and the Restless
Clearly, all of you want to hear about my freaky dreams.
This past night I dreamed that I was at a parking lot and there was a huge party going on. Lots of people sitting at various long tables, eating dinner. And I ran into one of those people I have no respect for.
(Why is it that the few times I dream, I almost never see people I like, but those I don't? Or even worse, boys it never worked out with?)
My sister and I were walking together. She was pushing a baby stroller containing a short version of her. Not even a baby version of her, a shrunken version sitting in the seat. And I was floating slightly above the asphalt, watching the shadow of myself, while walking next to her.
Like I said, freaky, right?
Maybe my psychology friends would like to analyze me? Or, better yet, people who have no expertise analyzing it?
This past night I dreamed that I was at a parking lot and there was a huge party going on. Lots of people sitting at various long tables, eating dinner. And I ran into one of those people I have no respect for.
(Why is it that the few times I dream, I almost never see people I like, but those I don't? Or even worse, boys it never worked out with?)
My sister and I were walking together. She was pushing a baby stroller containing a short version of her. Not even a baby version of her, a shrunken version sitting in the seat. And I was floating slightly above the asphalt, watching the shadow of myself, while walking next to her.
Like I said, freaky, right?
Maybe my psychology friends would like to analyze me? Or, better yet, people who have no expertise analyzing it?
Monday, June 21, 2010
Wasting Time Better Through Blogging
I love discovering new blogs. This morning, I happened upon one called Procrastinate Better, which is all about the best movies, online games, and other ways to "waste" your time. If anything, it's a more effective way to waste your time, since then you won't be like me, wasting your time on stuff that wasn't as much fun.
There's a great review up right now of Foyle's War, which I've seen bits and pieces of and is pretty solid. The review is absolutely true, except they miss how entertaining the sidekick is. There's some other delightful stuff already up, like on Stair Porn and hip hop, which I'm going to go use to waste my time on now.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Father's Day
My sister is so much more reliable than I am. After trying several times, like yesterday and during my dinner with Matt, she finally just went out and bought a card and some of my Dad's favorite chocolates. I feel pretty bad about not being helpful about the whole thing, but my sister doesn't seem to mind. I don't know if my Dad got around to opening his present, but we left it out for him.
Later, my Dad and I are going out to dinner. Sister's got studying to do, so she's not coming. I have no idea where my Mom even is right now, but if I had to guess, I'd say she's with my Grandma.
Happy Father's Day everyone!
Later, my Dad and I are going out to dinner. Sister's got studying to do, so she's not coming. I have no idea where my Mom even is right now, but if I had to guess, I'd say she's with my Grandma.
Happy Father's Day everyone!
The Date We Never Had
I went over to Micheal's house. He was packing some stuff to go back to MSU, so I was helping him. As he was looking for something, I happened to notice a Ponyo toy sitting out on a piano. Last week, Michael had mentioned that he had an extra one and that I could have it. I've actually never seen Ponyo, though I want to, since I'm a big fan of The Little Mermaid and Hayao Miuzaki. I went over and squeezed its stuffed tummy. And then I saw a bunch of framed pictures laying on the piano next to it. I picked up the top one. I was Michael's Dad, which slightly less crazy hair, and Michael's Mom, who I've never met. She had crazy wild hair too, which made me wonder how Michael could be born with completely straight hair. They were both smiling with a baby sitting in between them, Michael, I assumed.
The picture after that was similar, but instead of one baby in between, there were two. Michael never mentioned siblings. Had I just somehow missed that detail about him? Maybe something had happened to the other sibling and Michael didn't like talking about it? Maybe it was from a previous marriage, of, based on what the baby looked like, probably his mother? I wanted to ask but I don't think there's any good way of beginning this topic.
I noticed then that there were no pictures on the actual wall of his house, anywhere. It looked like a tornado had sweep through, which had distracted me to the lack of actual pictures on the wall. I wondered if someone had tried to paint the walls recently or if they had moved. It didn't make a lot of sense.
After that, we got into Micheal's car and headed over to a friend's graduation party. The guy had just graduated from engineering at MSU and had found a job in Grand Rapids. Kid was set for life. Would probably be making five figures right out of college. (What was I thinking pursuing English as a degree?) I just graduated myself, but I figured no one actually had graduation parties to celebrate graduating from college. With my Grandma being all sick lately and me not having anything exciting to say about where I was going, it's probably just as well, but now I have missed the opportunity to have one of these parties twice.
I was a little nervous to go there, just because people would see me and be like, "Oh, you must be Micheal's girlfriend," when the truth was I was friends with his girlfriend Lisa. But I didn't feel like it was my place to be picky.
And, indeed, I totally called it, because everyone shook my hand and treated me as Micheal's girlfriend. They asked where we had met. Michael said through Lisa, and that got a few eyebrows.It's actually a lie, the meeting through Lisa thing. We met about six months before Michael and Lisa met. I was sitting on a park bench reading Phillipa Gregory's The Constant Princess and Michael walked by, saw me, sat down, and then tried to pick me up. No kidding. We obviously did not end up dating, but it occurred to me then that if we had, this is probably what it would be like. Again, I was wondering if I was going to regret this hanging out with Michael thing.
It was a normal, though sparely attended, graduation party. The host's mother was very gracious to us (she knew Michael) and I helped myself to a Root Beer and chips and some Chinese noodles. They had this interesting wooden servers that were like huge fork ends. I joked that they were Wolverine servers. A woman standing there asked what I was talking about, and I explained that they looked like the claws of Wolverine the X-Man.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
The Steal
Truth: I don't really like malls. Or shopping. I still have issues with clothes. (Why don't they ever fit right? Why are they all made for the super skinny? Why do I have to dress the same way? Why do stores all sell so much of the same stuff?)
So going to the mall today with some of my friends was sort of a different thing for me. Obviously, I was going so I could chill with them. They're all much bigger shoppers than I am. I don't even remember the last time I was in a mall or out shopping. Last summer probably, but I can't even remember. Oh! Now I know: I went out in May 2009 to help my sister look for a graduation dress. I bought a dress for the Honors College Ball (one I looked amazing in) and bought two other dresses, and my sister didn't get anything, because if there's anything I've learned about shopping, it's the person who's not looking for something who finds exactly what they've been looking for.
First, we went into this store that sells accessories. I started looking through stuff. I found this great top hat decorated with red lace ribbon. Ever since my steampunk convention a few weeks back, I have been on the lookout for cool steampunk wear. I could totally use something like this, even though I already have an (artfully battered) steampunk hat with gray ribbon.
I try not to be an impulse buyer. I try to talk myself out of at least 75 percent of my purchases. I talked myself out of this one.
Meanwhile, Tori and Natasha were inspecting vampire stuff. "What's this?" Tori asked, holding up a journal with a design from the Vampire Diaries.
"The Vampire Diaries," I explained, thinking that was enough.
"True Blood?"
"No, that's a different show."
"Wait, in addition to Twilight and True Blood there's another vampire thing?"
I decided not to mention Buffy or Interview with a Vampire or Anita Blake. Might not go over well.
We walked down to a store that sold body lotions. We walked in. "I have a headache," I said thirty seconds later. Natasha heard me and laughed. It was actually not that bad, but my Mom cannot handle those places at all. She's very headache-sensitive.
We looked through things, and I smelled some of the testers. I kind of hate it when things are described as Midnight Rendezvous or April Showers, because I always think "What does that smell like?" With something like Strawberry Sorbet it's like, sure, it's meant to smell like strawberries. At least if it doesn't smell like whatever, you can still be like "Oh, well, at least they achieved a general fruity thing."
Madison picked up this massive brush and hit me with it and it hurt. I thought about Josie and pervertables. She'd love to hear about this.
We then went into an actual clothing store. While Madison was looking around, I went into the boy's section. I really love guy's clothing, and a year and a half ago, I promised myself I would start wearing stuff I liked, regardless of where it came from (unless it was from a store that sexually abuses its employees. I'm not supporting that.) I'm a big fan of plaid shirts (or plaid anything, really.) This isn't the right weather for it, but I looked through. And then I saw this bag on the ground.
When I went to that convention, I was really sorry I didn't have a better bag (I had just opted to take my handy-dandy goes anywhere black purse). I had wished I had a canvas bag and there one was. Like God had heard me thinking about it and asked my Dad if he had one, and then decided to send me to the mall and a store I about never go into.
I picked it up. It was a decent size, which was what I wanted. It was a messenger bag, like I wanted. It didn't have holes or tears. Good, good...and I looked at the price.
7.99.
It was cheap. A bag like this is a minimum 20, sometimes 30. How the heck...?
Well, obviously, I had to get it. And then, as the clerk was ringing me up, she was like "Oh, it's on sale, plus you get another 20 percent off. 5.49."
5.49? Sold!
I showed it to everyone and they were all impressed. 5.49 for a nice big bag like that?
I'm the kind of person who buys something and then instantly regrets it. I keep expecting it to happen with this bag. I keep opening it expecting a giant spider to come out and chew my arm off. To be fair, it's a little awkwardly designed. If I was making this bag, I'd order different clasps and shoulder strap, but it's really the right look.
Hilariously enough, of all my friends, I was the only person who bought something today. See what I mean? When you're not looking for something, it finds you.
So going to the mall today with some of my friends was sort of a different thing for me. Obviously, I was going so I could chill with them. They're all much bigger shoppers than I am. I don't even remember the last time I was in a mall or out shopping. Last summer probably, but I can't even remember. Oh! Now I know: I went out in May 2009 to help my sister look for a graduation dress. I bought a dress for the Honors College Ball (one I looked amazing in) and bought two other dresses, and my sister didn't get anything, because if there's anything I've learned about shopping, it's the person who's not looking for something who finds exactly what they've been looking for.
First, we went into this store that sells accessories. I started looking through stuff. I found this great top hat decorated with red lace ribbon. Ever since my steampunk convention a few weeks back, I have been on the lookout for cool steampunk wear. I could totally use something like this, even though I already have an (artfully battered) steampunk hat with gray ribbon.
I try not to be an impulse buyer. I try to talk myself out of at least 75 percent of my purchases. I talked myself out of this one.
"The Vampire Diaries," I explained, thinking that was enough.
"True Blood?"
"No, that's a different show."
"Wait, in addition to Twilight and True Blood there's another vampire thing?"
I decided not to mention Buffy or Interview with a Vampire or Anita Blake. Might not go over well.
We walked down to a store that sold body lotions. We walked in. "I have a headache," I said thirty seconds later. Natasha heard me and laughed. It was actually not that bad, but my Mom cannot handle those places at all. She's very headache-sensitive.
We looked through things, and I smelled some of the testers. I kind of hate it when things are described as Midnight Rendezvous or April Showers, because I always think "What does that smell like?" With something like Strawberry Sorbet it's like, sure, it's meant to smell like strawberries. At least if it doesn't smell like whatever, you can still be like "Oh, well, at least they achieved a general fruity thing."
Madison picked up this massive brush and hit me with it and it hurt. I thought about Josie and pervertables. She'd love to hear about this.
We then went into an actual clothing store. While Madison was looking around, I went into the boy's section. I really love guy's clothing, and a year and a half ago, I promised myself I would start wearing stuff I liked, regardless of where it came from (unless it was from a store that sexually abuses its employees. I'm not supporting that.) I'm a big fan of plaid shirts (or plaid anything, really.) This isn't the right weather for it, but I looked through. And then I saw this bag on the ground.
When I went to that convention, I was really sorry I didn't have a better bag (I had just opted to take my handy-dandy goes anywhere black purse). I had wished I had a canvas bag and there one was. Like God had heard me thinking about it and asked my Dad if he had one, and then decided to send me to the mall and a store I about never go into.
I picked it up. It was a decent size, which was what I wanted. It was a messenger bag, like I wanted. It didn't have holes or tears. Good, good...and I looked at the price.
7.99.
It was cheap. A bag like this is a minimum 20, sometimes 30. How the heck...?
Well, obviously, I had to get it. And then, as the clerk was ringing me up, she was like "Oh, it's on sale, plus you get another 20 percent off. 5.49."
5.49? Sold!
I showed it to everyone and they were all impressed. 5.49 for a nice big bag like that?
I'm the kind of person who buys something and then instantly regrets it. I keep expecting it to happen with this bag. I keep opening it expecting a giant spider to come out and chew my arm off. To be fair, it's a little awkwardly designed. If I was making this bag, I'd order different clasps and shoulder strap, but it's really the right look.
Hilariously enough, of all my friends, I was the only person who bought something today. See what I mean? When you're not looking for something, it finds you.
Friday, June 18, 2010
May Forms June Storms
We're having another storm right now. I'm really afraid that the power is going to go out and that I'll have a replay of what happened a few weeks back.
The lights have started to do that scary thing where they dim for a second or two before going on again. And I just wanted to spend the evening reading, writing some poetry and taking a shower. Never mind.
My Dad came in earlier to tell me about how it was all stormy and how we might have to make for low ground.
"It's just a thunderstorm. There's no tornado. Right now, there's not even any lightning."
Dad doesn't like it when someone uses science and logic against him. He's not really good at thinking up arguments on his feet. That's basically what I do, and if there's anything I love to do, it's argue with people.
The lights have started to do that scary thing where they dim for a second or two before going on again. And I just wanted to spend the evening reading, writing some poetry and taking a shower. Never mind.
My Dad came in earlier to tell me about how it was all stormy and how we might have to make for low ground.
"It's just a thunderstorm. There's no tornado. Right now, there's not even any lightning."
Dad doesn't like it when someone uses science and logic against him. He's not really good at thinking up arguments on his feet. That's basically what I do, and if there's anything I love to do, it's argue with people.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Shway Fu
Matt and I had dinner tonight. It was a really good time.
We had this whole long conversation where we made fun of Twilight. Matt's sisters are really into it, so he complained to me that he can't even escape it. This is one of the few times I'm grateful that my sister hates reading, so my family is Twilight free. Except for my merciless teasing on it.
I told him all about my whole Mom being dramatic thing. I also went on a rant about how I don't understand what New Age types are talking about when they say that you need to flow with the energy in shway fu. This got him to laugh at me and said I had created a spoonerism of the right word, feng shui. And, at one point, I told him that me and math went together like oil and the Gulf of Mexico: it's a disaster. That last one made him laugh really hard.
Matt thinks I'm really funny, and I would say that I have my moments of wit, but I'm not that impressive. He had this idea to video tape our conversations and then put clips of them up on YouTube. I'm wondering if anyone would actually be interested in that. I think it's a lot of giggling between us, mostly. And if you've ever listened in on other conversations (which I never do...) than you know that they tend to be fairly boring, if not downright stupid.
We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant we were in because it was so late. There was this moment when I realized that we were the only people there anymore. So we sat in his car and talked. Man, I'm sometimes so embarrassed by my Podunk town sometimes. There's not much to do. Just sit around in the dark night talking.
My sister texted me, asking if I wanted to go get some stuff for Father's Day, and I said yes, thinking we'd be back soon, but it was like the time just disappeared, and poof! she had left without me after giving up. Matt and I spent hours hanging out. Oh well. I also need to get a certain someone a birthday gift, so I was going to that with my sister, but I guess I'll have to try tomorrow.
When I got home, my Mom was all "What do we need to know about Matt?" It made me miss MSU, where I could go out with a boy, and no one would give me a hard time. Any time I hang out with a guy, my Mom has to make it into such a big deal.
We had this whole long conversation where we made fun of Twilight. Matt's sisters are really into it, so he complained to me that he can't even escape it. This is one of the few times I'm grateful that my sister hates reading, so my family is Twilight free. Except for my merciless teasing on it.
I told him all about my whole Mom being dramatic thing. I also went on a rant about how I don't understand what New Age types are talking about when they say that you need to flow with the energy in shway fu. This got him to laugh at me and said I had created a spoonerism of the right word, feng shui. And, at one point, I told him that me and math went together like oil and the Gulf of Mexico: it's a disaster. That last one made him laugh really hard.
Matt thinks I'm really funny, and I would say that I have my moments of wit, but I'm not that impressive. He had this idea to video tape our conversations and then put clips of them up on YouTube. I'm wondering if anyone would actually be interested in that. I think it's a lot of giggling between us, mostly. And if you've ever listened in on other conversations (which I never do...) than you know that they tend to be fairly boring, if not downright stupid.
We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant we were in because it was so late. There was this moment when I realized that we were the only people there anymore. So we sat in his car and talked. Man, I'm sometimes so embarrassed by my Podunk town sometimes. There's not much to do. Just sit around in the dark night talking.
My sister texted me, asking if I wanted to go get some stuff for Father's Day, and I said yes, thinking we'd be back soon, but it was like the time just disappeared, and poof! she had left without me after giving up. Matt and I spent hours hanging out. Oh well. I also need to get a certain someone a birthday gift, so I was going to that with my sister, but I guess I'll have to try tomorrow.
When I got home, my Mom was all "What do we need to know about Matt?" It made me miss MSU, where I could go out with a boy, and no one would give me a hard time. Any time I hang out with a guy, my Mom has to make it into such a big deal.
Dramatic
I was just talking to my Mom, and I asked her if she expected help from me on something.
She said "I don't expect anything from anyone anymore. That's how one of my friend lives her life, and it's the right way to."
A while back, my Mom said that I was "overly dramatic" about things. Seriously? Please. I'm dramatic but you're not?
I am dramatic, but I think a big part of it is that people are so into hiding their feelings all the time that it's just a comparison thing. What I am is more open about what I'm feeling, no matter how ridiculous it looks to others. If anything, I'm just not afraid of ridicule.
She said "I don't expect anything from anyone anymore. That's how one of my friend lives her life, and it's the right way to."
A while back, my Mom said that I was "overly dramatic" about things. Seriously? Please. I'm dramatic but you're not?
I am dramatic, but I think a big part of it is that people are so into hiding their feelings all the time that it's just a comparison thing. What I am is more open about what I'm feeling, no matter how ridiculous it looks to others. If anything, I'm just not afraid of ridicule.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Anger and Artwork
Another day of babysitting.
This time, the little girl got really upset when her Mom decided to leave. I've babysat for this family before, and yesterday she was fine, so I don't know what got her so upset, but she went ballistic in that impotent way that most children get. I found myself thinking about the things my Mom would say to me when I was this way as a child: "I'll give you something to cry about." (Or my Grandma: "I hit you so hard, your teeth go marching out of your mouth!")
I'm a big fan of using psychology to deal with children. I don't know much, but I've been consulting with Josie, and will continue to do so as this job continues as how best to deal with children. My sense right now is that you shouldn't reward any bad behavior with any kind of attention, positive or negative. So, the little girl sat in front of the door, screaming and crying for her Mom, and I let her. I sat nearby reading a book, on the off chance that she did something destructive or ran out the door into the street so that I'd be close at hand.
It was tough to concentrate on my book, but I managed through three chapters sitting there. One of their pet cats came by and meowed at me. She, on the other hand, would eventually get tired and just lay there, in front of the door. Then she'd get enough energy back and start hollering again.
I was glad that her Grandma, also in the house, is deaf. Lucky thing. It takes me a few minutes to get use to the screaming before I tune it out.
The last time she had one of these fits in front of me, last year, she ran into her room and screamed in the same way, with the screaming becoming shorter and with longer gaps of silence in between. She screamed herself so badly that when I finally went in there to check on her, she had fallen asleep. I was hoping this would happen this time, though I was wary of her sleeping in front of the door. This little girl doesn't have regularly scheduled naps, but I feel like she should. I suspect her parents are just not around enough to enforce them, and babysitters like myself probably don't like to start fights.
After reading three chapters, I moved to the couch. She could see me sitting there watching her, so maybe making her think I was even less interested would help. I read through a whole another chapter and I was starting a fifth when she finally got up, went to her room, and brought out a toy, and we started playing. Like nothing was wrong.
That took about forty-five minutes.
We played with this dress up doll that was basically an updated version of paper dolls, only the clothes and doll had magnets so they'd stick better. Then we played with her cats, which I like. I get the feeling I am already their buddy because they follow me into rooms and come up to me looking to be petted. The little girl got out one of those toys that is just a strip of cloth with a bell on the end. She would run from room to room and the cats would chase her.
One of the things the Mom left me to do with her was to help her set up a toy that required some artistic patience. She asked me if was arty. I just told her no, instead of the longer answer of "I'm creative. No one who makes arty would dare say they were arty. It's a demonized word by anyone who does it past eleven." Also, I feel like it's not my job to be your kid's art teacher.
This time, the little girl got really upset when her Mom decided to leave. I've babysat for this family before, and yesterday she was fine, so I don't know what got her so upset, but she went ballistic in that impotent way that most children get. I found myself thinking about the things my Mom would say to me when I was this way as a child: "I'll give you something to cry about." (Or my Grandma: "I hit you so hard, your teeth go marching out of your mouth!")
I'm a big fan of using psychology to deal with children. I don't know much, but I've been consulting with Josie, and will continue to do so as this job continues as how best to deal with children. My sense right now is that you shouldn't reward any bad behavior with any kind of attention, positive or negative. So, the little girl sat in front of the door, screaming and crying for her Mom, and I let her. I sat nearby reading a book, on the off chance that she did something destructive or ran out the door into the street so that I'd be close at hand.
It was tough to concentrate on my book, but I managed through three chapters sitting there. One of their pet cats came by and meowed at me. She, on the other hand, would eventually get tired and just lay there, in front of the door. Then she'd get enough energy back and start hollering again.
I was glad that her Grandma, also in the house, is deaf. Lucky thing. It takes me a few minutes to get use to the screaming before I tune it out.
The last time she had one of these fits in front of me, last year, she ran into her room and screamed in the same way, with the screaming becoming shorter and with longer gaps of silence in between. She screamed herself so badly that when I finally went in there to check on her, she had fallen asleep. I was hoping this would happen this time, though I was wary of her sleeping in front of the door. This little girl doesn't have regularly scheduled naps, but I feel like she should. I suspect her parents are just not around enough to enforce them, and babysitters like myself probably don't like to start fights.
After reading three chapters, I moved to the couch. She could see me sitting there watching her, so maybe making her think I was even less interested would help. I read through a whole another chapter and I was starting a fifth when she finally got up, went to her room, and brought out a toy, and we started playing. Like nothing was wrong.
That took about forty-five minutes.
We played with this dress up doll that was basically an updated version of paper dolls, only the clothes and doll had magnets so they'd stick better. Then we played with her cats, which I like. I get the feeling I am already their buddy because they follow me into rooms and come up to me looking to be petted. The little girl got out one of those toys that is just a strip of cloth with a bell on the end. She would run from room to room and the cats would chase her.
One of the things the Mom left me to do with her was to help her set up a toy that required some artistic patience. She asked me if was arty. I just told her no, instead of the longer answer of "I'm creative. No one who makes arty would dare say they were arty. It's a demonized word by anyone who does it past eleven." Also, I feel like it's not my job to be your kid's art teacher.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Coloring and Cooking
I had a babysitting gig today.
I was just watching one little girl, and I played with her the entire time. She had this set of blocks that were meant to be stacked on top of each other to make various towers. She mostly played with that and I watched. She's a big fan of me watching her play with things, either that or making up games that are designed to make her win. It's obviously boring from my point of view. I found myself fantasizing about going home and reading this article I was working on last night.
We also went round to one of her friend's house, where they were painting rocks. She painted a rock for herself (making it green and blue) and her other friends had made various rocks, one clearly painted with a butterfly on top.
We also played with her brother's train set. (Same basic deal. Watch her make the trains go or let her boss me around.) We were also able to build some elaborate tracks for the trains to navigate on.
One of my favorite things to do when babysitting is coloring because it keeps kids in their seats (less likely to hurt themselves) and they're actually making something. Coloring in actual coloring books is sort of exotic to me, because when I was a kid I never used them. I knew what they were, I saw other kids like them. But the coloring books never had pictures of my house or my friends in outfits I designed for them or anything like that, and I always preferred blank paper to coloring books. Now, of course, there's something nicely mindless about coloring books. I just sat there and colored pictures of rabbits and Hello Kitty and other things. She started off coloring and then made some pictures of her own, mostly focusing on making hearts. She made me a picture, which consisted of my name, the word love and what was explained to me as a cupcake.
Making lunch was the least fun part. I told her that she could go play, but she wanted to hang around the kitchen. Because I was making her mac and cheese, this made me a little wary, because I would rather she be out in the living room playing with her dolls than be around boiling water. One of the many annoying things I notice about babysitting is that kids basically expect you to do anything you want the moment they say it. I'm certain I was a pain in the ass to my Mom, but I also remember being told no a lot. Or something like "I can't just wave my magic wand and make that happen," in answer to something physically impossible.
Their stove was also really slow at boiling things, which just sort of added to the problem, because she kept asking when it was going to be. I told her that she was welcome to go play with her toys in the meantime, but no, she wanted to sit there and watch me. Finally, the water started boiling after ten minutes, and once I got it to boil, making the rest of the mac and cheese wasn't too hard. I'm not much of a cook, and I don't make food often (my Dad insists on making me everything at home. Every time I enter the kitchen, he comes in behind me and asks me four times each if I want something. No, I just want to look through the mail.) and I'm always wary of using equipment that I'm unfamiliar with.
The Dad set out the mac and cheese, but not the pots or pans or even a microwavable bowl. Their kitchen is a mess and sort of hard to navigate, since things are placed in cupboards that would be better in a different cupboard right next to them. Plus, very few of their bowls were labeled, and the ones that were indicated that they weren't to be put in the microwave.
I was just watching one little girl, and I played with her the entire time. She had this set of blocks that were meant to be stacked on top of each other to make various towers. She mostly played with that and I watched. She's a big fan of me watching her play with things, either that or making up games that are designed to make her win. It's obviously boring from my point of view. I found myself fantasizing about going home and reading this article I was working on last night.
We also went round to one of her friend's house, where they were painting rocks. She painted a rock for herself (making it green and blue) and her other friends had made various rocks, one clearly painted with a butterfly on top.
We also played with her brother's train set. (Same basic deal. Watch her make the trains go or let her boss me around.) We were also able to build some elaborate tracks for the trains to navigate on.
One of my favorite things to do when babysitting is coloring because it keeps kids in their seats (less likely to hurt themselves) and they're actually making something. Coloring in actual coloring books is sort of exotic to me, because when I was a kid I never used them. I knew what they were, I saw other kids like them. But the coloring books never had pictures of my house or my friends in outfits I designed for them or anything like that, and I always preferred blank paper to coloring books. Now, of course, there's something nicely mindless about coloring books. I just sat there and colored pictures of rabbits and Hello Kitty and other things. She started off coloring and then made some pictures of her own, mostly focusing on making hearts. She made me a picture, which consisted of my name, the word love and what was explained to me as a cupcake.
Making lunch was the least fun part. I told her that she could go play, but she wanted to hang around the kitchen. Because I was making her mac and cheese, this made me a little wary, because I would rather she be out in the living room playing with her dolls than be around boiling water. One of the many annoying things I notice about babysitting is that kids basically expect you to do anything you want the moment they say it. I'm certain I was a pain in the ass to my Mom, but I also remember being told no a lot. Or something like "I can't just wave my magic wand and make that happen," in answer to something physically impossible.
Their stove was also really slow at boiling things, which just sort of added to the problem, because she kept asking when it was going to be. I told her that she was welcome to go play with her toys in the meantime, but no, she wanted to sit there and watch me. Finally, the water started boiling after ten minutes, and once I got it to boil, making the rest of the mac and cheese wasn't too hard. I'm not much of a cook, and I don't make food often (my Dad insists on making me everything at home. Every time I enter the kitchen, he comes in behind me and asks me four times each if I want something. No, I just want to look through the mail.) and I'm always wary of using equipment that I'm unfamiliar with.
The Dad set out the mac and cheese, but not the pots or pans or even a microwavable bowl. Their kitchen is a mess and sort of hard to navigate, since things are placed in cupboards that would be better in a different cupboard right next to them. Plus, very few of their bowls were labeled, and the ones that were indicated that they weren't to be put in the microwave.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Women's Writing Book Shopping
The Enchanted April About four women who don't know each other but rent a villa together. I'm wondering how much of this book will be like all these modern works with four female characters interacting with each other (The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Sex and the City, etc.)
Belinda It's a feminist book that makes fun of the upper crust of England. That's really all I needed to hear.
Captivity and Restoration The authoress chronicles her time being captured by Native Americans. This could be used in a both a historical or literary interpretation.
The Circular Staircase Another Kindle-only one that I'm going to have to try to scout out elsewhere. I'm interested in this one because it's plot is similar to The Turn of the Screw. I'd like to write a comparison of them.
The Upas Tree One of the many things I look for with books is the possibility to write about them academically, and this book, about a (almost certainly white) man who experiences the magic of an African tree. Probably an easy book to consider race under.
Wuthering Heights Saw a film version of it, thought it was trash-licious. Want to read, again, because I'm a feminist.
Ruth Hall About a woman who loses her husband and is forced to write to support herself.
Night and Day I've read A Room of One's Own a couple of times now. I like what she says, but I've never been impressed by her writing. Maybe trying another book will change my mind? Also, look at the cover of the book on the link. That is the most ridiculous cover I've ever seen for a Woolf book. Someone had no idea what they were doing when they designed that.
The Slyph I had no idea that the Duchess of Devonshire was also a writer. I'm curious now to see how good of a writer she was.
Curse you Amazon, curse you Internet for making it so easy for me to see that yes, there are even more books out there that I want to read. Because God knows I don't have a huge pile in my room right now.
Out with Friends, pt. 2
One of the other things about being out with friends was that it allowed me to get some updates on people.
Ashley, for example, is looking for a job. One of the old boarding schools she used to work with is looking to hire people in an mentor like capacity. I'm not going to lie, I'd really like to get a job like that. I've always wanted to go to a boarding school (which probably fed into my love of living at school), but working at one is the next best thing. There's no way I qualify for this job, or at least not the way Ashley does. Ashley spent time as a mentor at her university, and I decided not to do that. So, to prevent myself from being jealous, I'm remembering all the stupid stuff mentors had to do and all the crappy mentors we had.
Tori is taking summer classes. She's thinking of getting a master's in history, working at a community college, and then using that money to put herself through a Ph.D. I didn't mention that really, you shouldn't have to pay for a master's or a Ph.D, but then I remembered how I really don't know anything.
Tori also changed her major from biology to history. I know that she'll be amazing in history, but I realized last night that almost all of my friends have changed their major at one point or another. Was this something I was suppose to do too? I guess not, since the idea of giving up English breaks my heart.
We also chatted about the World Cup and about the recent debacle over the baseball commissioner not calling the perfect game for the Tigers. I actually held my own on a sports conversation! I guess hanging out all the time with Danny and Paul really made a difference. I actually know what I'm talking about now. I'm really proud of myself. I've grown.
At the end of the night, we went driving through town. It was so dark, and as we drove past fields and through the woods, it was so quiet and beautiful looking. I love night. Everything felt blissful and calm and safe last night.
When I got home, I showered and then realized that I was actually tired. I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, so being tired before one in the morning made me think that maybe I could just sleep normally. And I did.
Last night was one of our best nights out, strangely enough. Over the years, we've had some disagreements and other things, but we didn't fight or anything. Maybe we've changed since high school, but maybe we're changing back towards each other, not away from each other they way I thought we were. I heard someone say a few days ago that friends recklessly hurt each other and then awkwardly forgive each other. Maybe we're getting better at that last part.
Ashley, for example, is looking for a job. One of the old boarding schools she used to work with is looking to hire people in an mentor like capacity. I'm not going to lie, I'd really like to get a job like that. I've always wanted to go to a boarding school (which probably fed into my love of living at school), but working at one is the next best thing. There's no way I qualify for this job, or at least not the way Ashley does. Ashley spent time as a mentor at her university, and I decided not to do that. So, to prevent myself from being jealous, I'm remembering all the stupid stuff mentors had to do and all the crappy mentors we had.
Tori is taking summer classes. She's thinking of getting a master's in history, working at a community college, and then using that money to put herself through a Ph.D. I didn't mention that really, you shouldn't have to pay for a master's or a Ph.D, but then I remembered how I really don't know anything.
Tori also changed her major from biology to history. I know that she'll be amazing in history, but I realized last night that almost all of my friends have changed their major at one point or another. Was this something I was suppose to do too? I guess not, since the idea of giving up English breaks my heart.
We also chatted about the World Cup and about the recent debacle over the baseball commissioner not calling the perfect game for the Tigers. I actually held my own on a sports conversation! I guess hanging out all the time with Danny and Paul really made a difference. I actually know what I'm talking about now. I'm really proud of myself. I've grown.
At the end of the night, we went driving through town. It was so dark, and as we drove past fields and through the woods, it was so quiet and beautiful looking. I love night. Everything felt blissful and calm and safe last night.
When I got home, I showered and then realized that I was actually tired. I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, so being tired before one in the morning made me think that maybe I could just sleep normally. And I did.
Last night was one of our best nights out, strangely enough. Over the years, we've had some disagreements and other things, but we didn't fight or anything. Maybe we've changed since high school, but maybe we're changing back towards each other, not away from each other they way I thought we were. I heard someone say a few days ago that friends recklessly hurt each other and then awkwardly forgive each other. Maybe we're getting better at that last part.
Out With Friends
I went out last night with some of my friends. We first went over to one of the local coffee shops for treats and conversation.
One of the things that's always a bit of a problem is volume. Tori and Ashley are particularly loud. (You know things are bad when I think people are loud.) There were a few brief moments where this looked like it was going to be a problem, but it was mostly okay.
I was surprised by Tori and Ashley. Ashley usually does not like being told that she is wrong (she's picked fights with me over very little) but Tori basically schooled her in Islam last night and Ashley didn't react as badly as she usually does. Ashley's in anthropology, and anthropology has a bad reputation for being racist, misogynistic, homophobic, etc., and even though Ashley doesn't go for the racism and homophobia, I have heard her say some pretty misogynistic things on occasion. This time, she said some pretty awful things about Muslims, and I sometimes wonder how it is that we grew up in the same community. We knew a lot of the same people, including a lot of Muslims (we live in an area where there is a high population of "Middle Easteners") and yet Ashley has a totally different (i.e. mostly negative) point of view about them. But Ashley didn't do as she always does (repeat herself until you give up), so maybe that's a sign that she's changing?
I talked mostly to Michael, Lisa's boyfriend. He's a really nice guy, but I always feel like he's hitting on me.
This brings up one of the many problems I have. Apparently, I am too nice to guys. Josie says that I make people feel way too good about themselves and Dan has commented before that I am easy to talk to. Josie believes that a lot of guys think that I'm interested in them because of the way I behave around them. There are a lot of guys I'm interested in, but never, it seems, the ones who are interested in me.
The other problem is that I'm not sure how to strike a middle ground between being nice and being nasty. I know how to tell someone off (some of my readers have seen me do it), but I (apparently) don't know how to be normal around people, not overly nice and not mean.
So, with Michael things are always a little weird, because well, Lisa's right there. And I'm honestly not interested in him, and not just because of Lisa. I met Michael before Lisa did, and I decided against him. And I really don't want to make Lisa unhappy. She's been very nice to me over our seven years of friendship, and it feels silly to throw that away, especially over a boy.
Later, we walked over to a store to do a little shopping. While walking there, some one was playing "Boom Boom Pow" and I danced in the parking lot to it. (You can all blame Gary for getting me into that song. Boy is a much better dancer than he looks.)
We went to look through cards, which is something that is super foreign to me these days. In my family, we're not allowed to buy cards, because my Mom makes them. So I haven't been in a card rack in almost a decade. I mostly made terrible suggestions to Ashley, like saying she should get a Grandfather-themed Father's Day card for her Dad.
Lisa is a cute whore, and she got really excited when she saw cards that were from Hoops and Yoyo. Am I totally out of the loop here? I've never even heard of Hoops and Yoyo before, though their website has so much sound stuff on it. Lisa was giggling and carrying on about how cute they were, especially this one slug character. I honestly don't ever worry about buying Lisa a present. If it's even a little bit cute, she'd probably love it.
One of the things that's always a bit of a problem is volume. Tori and Ashley are particularly loud. (You know things are bad when I think people are loud.) There were a few brief moments where this looked like it was going to be a problem, but it was mostly okay.
I was surprised by Tori and Ashley. Ashley usually does not like being told that she is wrong (she's picked fights with me over very little) but Tori basically schooled her in Islam last night and Ashley didn't react as badly as she usually does. Ashley's in anthropology, and anthropology has a bad reputation for being racist, misogynistic, homophobic, etc., and even though Ashley doesn't go for the racism and homophobia, I have heard her say some pretty misogynistic things on occasion. This time, she said some pretty awful things about Muslims, and I sometimes wonder how it is that we grew up in the same community. We knew a lot of the same people, including a lot of Muslims (we live in an area where there is a high population of "Middle Easteners") and yet Ashley has a totally different (i.e. mostly negative) point of view about them. But Ashley didn't do as she always does (repeat herself until you give up), so maybe that's a sign that she's changing?
I talked mostly to Michael, Lisa's boyfriend. He's a really nice guy, but I always feel like he's hitting on me.
This brings up one of the many problems I have. Apparently, I am too nice to guys. Josie says that I make people feel way too good about themselves and Dan has commented before that I am easy to talk to. Josie believes that a lot of guys think that I'm interested in them because of the way I behave around them. There are a lot of guys I'm interested in, but never, it seems, the ones who are interested in me.
The other problem is that I'm not sure how to strike a middle ground between being nice and being nasty. I know how to tell someone off (some of my readers have seen me do it), but I (apparently) don't know how to be normal around people, not overly nice and not mean.
So, with Michael things are always a little weird, because well, Lisa's right there. And I'm honestly not interested in him, and not just because of Lisa. I met Michael before Lisa did, and I decided against him. And I really don't want to make Lisa unhappy. She's been very nice to me over our seven years of friendship, and it feels silly to throw that away, especially over a boy.
Later, we walked over to a store to do a little shopping. While walking there, some one was playing "Boom Boom Pow" and I danced in the parking lot to it. (You can all blame Gary for getting me into that song. Boy is a much better dancer than he looks.)
We went to look through cards, which is something that is super foreign to me these days. In my family, we're not allowed to buy cards, because my Mom makes them. So I haven't been in a card rack in almost a decade. I mostly made terrible suggestions to Ashley, like saying she should get a Grandfather-themed Father's Day card for her Dad.
Lisa is a cute whore, and she got really excited when she saw cards that were from Hoops and Yoyo. Am I totally out of the loop here? I've never even heard of Hoops and Yoyo before, though their website has so much sound stuff on it. Lisa was giggling and carrying on about how cute they were, especially this one slug character. I honestly don't ever worry about buying Lisa a present. If it's even a little bit cute, she'd probably love it.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Movies Tonight
My sister and I went to go rent some movies for tonight. (That's right, that's how old school we are. We still rent videos from a store.)As always, the young sales clerk flirted with us.
I always have such a hard time picking out movies. Should I be brave and try something new or go with something I've already seen but like? I was thinking of going with Shakespeare in Love, which I know I like, or In the Name of the Rose, which I'm always hearing good things about. And then I went with a rom-com that's based on a Shakespeare play, which I know is not the same thing, but it will hopefully give me the feel-goods.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sylvia Plath, I'm Revisiting that Poem I Wrote
As my last post would probably indicate, I have been poeming it up over the last few days. I've been reading poems, and now I have turned to writing more.
I just pulled out this old poem I wrote my freshman year when I broke up with a certain someone. I wrote this angry little poem about it. A teacher (who later became my thesis adviser!) said she liked it. Josie loved it.
And now I've rewritten it.
It's better now, though not perfect, and as you all know my writing must always be perfect.
But I'm going to be brave and submit it anyway.
Wish me luck, yeah?
I just pulled out this old poem I wrote my freshman year when I broke up with a certain someone. I wrote this angry little poem about it. A teacher (who later became my thesis adviser!) said she liked it. Josie loved it.
And now I've rewritten it.
It's better now, though not perfect, and as you all know my writing must always be perfect.
But I'm going to be brave and submit it anyway.
Wish me luck, yeah?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Thirteen Ways of Looking
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Five Sisters: The Langhornes of Virginia
Once again, I have found myself pining for a book I find online. This time it's Five Sisters: The Langhornes of Virginia. I already have so many books that I keep promising myself I'm going to read and never do. As you readers know, I am a massive history nerd and my powers of resistance are low. Out of all the interests one can have, I guess I should be grateful that one of them involves me developing my brain.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Doctor's Again
In keeping with his recent theme of telling me what to do, my father felt the need to get me up today. I had gotten up early and gone out for a walk with Jennifer, and then went back to bed. I was planning on going down to see my Grandma and take her to the doctor's. I was annoyed that my father felt the need to wake me up because I know what the plan was and was going to get myself up. Also, I set my alarm, because, you know, I planned ahead.
When we got to see my Grandma, he was a pain in the ass. We found her outside her room, working at her beloved puzzle. We had to make sure she went to the bathroom and change her clothing and then get her into the car and then drive to the Doctor's office. With a normal person, this would be easy, but my Grandma is stubborn, can't move well, is slow, and needs lots of help. Because she wasn't in her room and takes ten minutes to waddle to what for most people would be a two minute trip, I was trying to be conscientious of time and not waste any of it. I asked my Dad to walk back to the room and get something.
"Don't tell me what to do," he said.
I almost burst at him right there. I'm so sick of listening to him, I'm so sick of hearing him. Every time I do anything in front of him, he takes it as an opportunity to tell me what to do. And not in a helpful way. In a patronizing, annoying, nosy, rude way. I'm so sick of listening to him. I'm so sick of him being completely unhelpful and then having the gall to make it about me telling him what to to do. He hasn't done anything to help Grandma since she came back from rehab, and he was more concerned with whether or not he was going to go get something a two minute walk away to conserve time and prevent an old lady from getting winded. God. I can't believe him.
I texted my Mom, telling her that how much I hated dealing with her "asshole husband."
Luckily, he made himself scarce. That's what he does when he doesn't want to do something at home: he disappears. He figures someone else will do it, and sadly, that's often the case. So I did everything myself.
My Grandma was being particularly stubborn. She weighs at least twice what I do, so I can't make her do things. She first gave me a hard time about the bathroom. Then about going to the doctor, whining the entire time about it. Then she wouldn't change into proper clothes.
Finally we got her ready. And then we drove to the Doctor's.
My Grandma has this thing where she will look at things as we drive past and make the same couple of comments. Usually, she notes how small the windows on people's houses are and how big the trees are.
For some reason, my father decided to talk to her about where we were going, asking her if she knew the way. Friday, she didn't even recognize her own daughter, so this was a stupid, and, as far as he was concerned, a rhetoric question. My Grandma always said she didn't know where we were going, as she always answers. After my father said something about it the third time, I was really annoyed about it, because it seems like a vicious way of causing her undue stress. She gets upset when these things happen. If it's necessary to ask her a question like that, sure. But if you already (apparently) know the answer and continue to badger her, then you're just being a jerk.
I'm so embarrassed by what a terrible human being my father is.
When we got to see my Grandma, he was a pain in the ass. We found her outside her room, working at her beloved puzzle. We had to make sure she went to the bathroom and change her clothing and then get her into the car and then drive to the Doctor's office. With a normal person, this would be easy, but my Grandma is stubborn, can't move well, is slow, and needs lots of help. Because she wasn't in her room and takes ten minutes to waddle to what for most people would be a two minute trip, I was trying to be conscientious of time and not waste any of it. I asked my Dad to walk back to the room and get something.
"Don't tell me what to do," he said.
I almost burst at him right there. I'm so sick of listening to him, I'm so sick of hearing him. Every time I do anything in front of him, he takes it as an opportunity to tell me what to do. And not in a helpful way. In a patronizing, annoying, nosy, rude way. I'm so sick of listening to him. I'm so sick of him being completely unhelpful and then having the gall to make it about me telling him what to to do. He hasn't done anything to help Grandma since she came back from rehab, and he was more concerned with whether or not he was going to go get something a two minute walk away to conserve time and prevent an old lady from getting winded. God. I can't believe him.
I texted my Mom, telling her that how much I hated dealing with her "asshole husband."
Luckily, he made himself scarce. That's what he does when he doesn't want to do something at home: he disappears. He figures someone else will do it, and sadly, that's often the case. So I did everything myself.
My Grandma was being particularly stubborn. She weighs at least twice what I do, so I can't make her do things. She first gave me a hard time about the bathroom. Then about going to the doctor, whining the entire time about it. Then she wouldn't change into proper clothes.
Finally we got her ready. And then we drove to the Doctor's.
My Grandma has this thing where she will look at things as we drive past and make the same couple of comments. Usually, she notes how small the windows on people's houses are and how big the trees are.
For some reason, my father decided to talk to her about where we were going, asking her if she knew the way. Friday, she didn't even recognize her own daughter, so this was a stupid, and, as far as he was concerned, a rhetoric question. My Grandma always said she didn't know where we were going, as she always answers. After my father said something about it the third time, I was really annoyed about it, because it seems like a vicious way of causing her undue stress. She gets upset when these things happen. If it's necessary to ask her a question like that, sure. But if you already (apparently) know the answer and continue to badger her, then you're just being a jerk.
I'm so embarrassed by what a terrible human being my father is.
Power Down
The power went out earlier today. Luckily, it was still mostly light outside. I had a long list of things I wanted to do, but most of them involved a computer, so I sat down and began doing some reading. I read two essays, finished the introduction for the book, and then went over a third essay's notes. (I read that last essay a few months back, so I really don't think it's necessary to re-read it.) I have a whole list of things now that I want to look up or think about or write about now. Some of them are actually very exciting. But I'll save that for later.
Without power, I had to sit in the rooms with large windows and work by them. My father felt the need to sit in the first room I choose, reading a book, probably a biography. (All old people, it seems, like biographies. Which would be fine if they had better taste in people to be interested in.) Then he would make all sorts of noise that I found very distracting. So I moved to the kitchen, also with a large enough window I could sit and work by.
But of course that meant my father had to come in and make tons of noise there to. I moved back to the first room. He came into the first room, so I'm back in the kitchen. Then he's back in the kitchen, trying to fix something.
This is one of the many things that irritates my about him. He's so rude. You'll clearly be doing something, like talking on the phone, and he always, no matter what, manages to want to distract you, by talking to you.
Finally, I got all the reading I wanted done. I went upstairs. I considered calling Dan. He would probably have a lot to say about us being without power and maybe I could make amends for the insensitive things I said the last time I spoke to him.
Then I looked outside. We had lost power, presumably, because it was raining. But the raining stopped about twenty minutes after the power went out. So I decide to go out.
I always try not to leave a lot of time to talk to my dad. I quickly say that I am going out for a walk, and then he feels the need to tell me where I should walk.
This is another thing that makes me crazy. He is always telling me what to do like I'm four. I'm twenty-two, I'm fine, thanks, go away now. I can't do anything in his line of sight without him telling me how to do it. I wish I could say that I'm the only one who does this, but I've heard his officemates complain of the same thing.
People do not like being told what to do. Generally, it's a bad idea. If someone asks for advice or your thoughts on the matter, than by all means, be honest, but otherwise, no, no one cares.
His current job is ending soon, which means he will once again have nothing to do but hang around the house and hover over every little thing I do. God, living here makes me wish I was back at MSU living alone in my room. It was so pleasant. I got to be around whoever, and then when I needed time alone, I went to be alone.
When I came back from my walk, the power was thankfully on, and I was able to work on my various projects in relative peace.
But then when I went downstairs to get some crackers, he felt the need to tell me where I could eat them.
Without power, I had to sit in the rooms with large windows and work by them. My father felt the need to sit in the first room I choose, reading a book, probably a biography. (All old people, it seems, like biographies. Which would be fine if they had better taste in people to be interested in.) Then he would make all sorts of noise that I found very distracting. So I moved to the kitchen, also with a large enough window I could sit and work by.
But of course that meant my father had to come in and make tons of noise there to. I moved back to the first room. He came into the first room, so I'm back in the kitchen. Then he's back in the kitchen, trying to fix something.
This is one of the many things that irritates my about him. He's so rude. You'll clearly be doing something, like talking on the phone, and he always, no matter what, manages to want to distract you, by talking to you.
Finally, I got all the reading I wanted done. I went upstairs. I considered calling Dan. He would probably have a lot to say about us being without power and maybe I could make amends for the insensitive things I said the last time I spoke to him.
Then I looked outside. We had lost power, presumably, because it was raining. But the raining stopped about twenty minutes after the power went out. So I decide to go out.
I always try not to leave a lot of time to talk to my dad. I quickly say that I am going out for a walk, and then he feels the need to tell me where I should walk.
This is another thing that makes me crazy. He is always telling me what to do like I'm four. I'm twenty-two, I'm fine, thanks, go away now. I can't do anything in his line of sight without him telling me how to do it. I wish I could say that I'm the only one who does this, but I've heard his officemates complain of the same thing.
People do not like being told what to do. Generally, it's a bad idea. If someone asks for advice or your thoughts on the matter, than by all means, be honest, but otherwise, no, no one cares.
His current job is ending soon, which means he will once again have nothing to do but hang around the house and hover over every little thing I do. God, living here makes me wish I was back at MSU living alone in my room. It was so pleasant. I got to be around whoever, and then when I needed time alone, I went to be alone.
When I came back from my walk, the power was thankfully on, and I was able to work on my various projects in relative peace.
But then when I went downstairs to get some crackers, he felt the need to tell me where I could eat them.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Pierced Ears
My sister just asked my Mom if she could get her ears pierced. "Sure," my Mom said.
Ack. I hate pierced ears. Humans have enough holes in their head without putting any there on purpose.
So then we had a discussion of it. My sister wants my Mom to come.
Then my Grandma pipped in that the ear is "very, very important. You don't fool around with it."
Which led to a conversation about how big my Grandma's ear lobes are.
Oh, spare me.
If we were having this conversation at school, there would be a whole imaginative thing involving piercings that somehow led to some epic battle against Godzilla and then there would be one Your Mom joke and then some references to kinky sexuality.
Obviously, I miss school.
Ack. I hate pierced ears. Humans have enough holes in their head without putting any there on purpose.
So then we had a discussion of it. My sister wants my Mom to come.
Then my Grandma pipped in that the ear is "very, very important. You don't fool around with it."
Which led to a conversation about how big my Grandma's ear lobes are.
Oh, spare me.
If we were having this conversation at school, there would be a whole imaginative thing involving piercings that somehow led to some epic battle against Godzilla and then there would be one Your Mom joke and then some references to kinky sexuality.
Obviously, I miss school.
Vincent D'Onofrio, Celebrity Boyfriend
One of the many things I occasionally tell people (jokingly) is that I have a celebrity boyfriend. As a teenager, I dated Robert Sean Leonard, then James Marsters and David Duchovny at the same time. (Shhh...they still don't know I was two timing them!) Two years ago, I was dating David Tennant. Then I had a torrid with Vik Sahay. Last summer I dated Lee Pace and then Devon Gummersall. And then I swore to myself I was going to stop joking about this subject and not have anymore imaginary celebrity boyfriends, because people never took it as I was hoping them to: as a parody of crazy girls who actually think they have celebrity boyfriends but have never even been near a D-lister.
Whenever I promise myself something like this, I always manage to break it. No matter how hard I try.
This time, I made a joke about my celebrity boyfriend being Vincent D'Onofrio.
I know, I know: he's almost thirty years older than me. And he's married. Most of my straight female friends would complain that he's not even hot. Nate in particular would be horrified, since he hates that flavor of Law and Order. But I still love him. I probably shouldn't have made any jokes about him, but I so frequently can't help myself.
I think I just have a thing for smart men, and he plays a smart man, so of course I'm going to be attracted to that. Obviously, if you've seen my ex-boyfriends, it's clear I could give a damn about physical appearance and don't. So maybe it's not all that bad that I'm lusting after this. Could be wasting my time with idiots.
Whenever I promise myself something like this, I always manage to break it. No matter how hard I try.
This time, I made a joke about my celebrity boyfriend being Vincent D'Onofrio.
I know, I know: he's almost thirty years older than me. And he's married. Most of my straight female friends would complain that he's not even hot. Nate in particular would be horrified, since he hates that flavor of Law and Order. But I still love him. I probably shouldn't have made any jokes about him, but I so frequently can't help myself.I think I just have a thing for smart men, and he plays a smart man, so of course I'm going to be attracted to that. Obviously, if you've seen my ex-boyfriends, it's clear I could give a damn about physical appearance and don't. So maybe it's not all that bad that I'm lusting after this. Could be wasting my time with idiots.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Step Back: I'm Using Science
A couple of days ago, Jennifer and I got onto a conversation on aluminum. Basically, there is a lot of scientific evidence (though not clear proof) that aluminum increases your likelihood of developing Alzheimer's disease. This was totally news to me. (Read a pdf review of the research that's been done on the subject.)
The biggest problem with all of this is that aluminum is in a ton of products, most of which people use on a regular basis and don't think much about like toothpaste, deodorant, and makeup.
So, in an attempt to understand this issue better, I did a little scouting online. I was mostly looking at the things I like to buy that might have this stuff in it. The only thing I found? Sun screen from Sephora. Sun screen is suppose to help you not get sun burned and develop skin cancer, not make plaques grow in your brain. This kind contains Aluminum hydroxide, which is less dangerous than other kinds, like organic forms, which are more easily absorbed. I found other products here and there with aluminum in them, though none with something like Aluminum citrate.
But I did find that apparently no one likes to list their ingredients right on the page where they're selling. This angers me a lot. I feel like it shouldn't be that hard for them to type them up. I'm this close to boycotting the companies that won't list ingredients (which is a far longer list than companies I found who always listed them.)
What's most sad is that a lot of companies that are very much in the business of selling beauty products seemed to have the hardest time listing things. Department stores that sell mostly clothes often wouldn't list, but companies who are happy to carry on about how their stuff smell like Cucumber Melon or A Day at the Beach were pretty disappointing about listing whether or not their stuff had iron oxides. Consumers have a right not know what they're purchasing.
The biggest problem with all of this is that aluminum is in a ton of products, most of which people use on a regular basis and don't think much about like toothpaste, deodorant, and makeup.
So, in an attempt to understand this issue better, I did a little scouting online. I was mostly looking at the things I like to buy that might have this stuff in it. The only thing I found? Sun screen from Sephora. Sun screen is suppose to help you not get sun burned and develop skin cancer, not make plaques grow in your brain. This kind contains Aluminum hydroxide, which is less dangerous than other kinds, like organic forms, which are more easily absorbed. I found other products here and there with aluminum in them, though none with something like Aluminum citrate.
But I did find that apparently no one likes to list their ingredients right on the page where they're selling. This angers me a lot. I feel like it shouldn't be that hard for them to type them up. I'm this close to boycotting the companies that won't list ingredients (which is a far longer list than companies I found who always listed them.)
What's most sad is that a lot of companies that are very much in the business of selling beauty products seemed to have the hardest time listing things. Department stores that sell mostly clothes often wouldn't list, but companies who are happy to carry on about how their stuff smell like Cucumber Melon or A Day at the Beach were pretty disappointing about listing whether or not their stuff had iron oxides. Consumers have a right not know what they're purchasing.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Techno Logic
Really? I thought. I mean, I like most techno, but my Mom is not really the type. Also, she's really old.
But after thinking about it for a while, it does make some sense. My Mom really likes Earth, Wind and Fire, and funk in general, and techno has lots of funk influences. So I guess it does make sense, though I suspect it's the sort of thing I could tell people and they would be surprised. Kind of like my Dad's love of My Sweet Sixteen. It doesn't make sense, until you remember how much he likes to hate on ungrateful children. Which is probably related to at least one of the many reasons we don't get on.
Embarrassed and Frustrated
Today has been way more frustrating than I planned on it being.
One of the many things that managed to grate on me was about this charity dinner my Mom wanted us to go to. A girl my sister knows from high school was diagnosed with cancer a few years back, and they occasionally hold events to raise money to take care of her.
I really didn't want to go, but I decided to play nice about it. The reason I don't want to go was that I really hated my high school. Not even everyone, but a large portion of people. I'm really glad that whole part of my life is over. Despite my Mom always encouraging me to go back and talk to people, I generally don't want to. There are a few people who I don't talk to anymore that I wouldn't mind running into or hanging out with, and a small group I still text or have fun with, but I'm generally separated from those people. And glad to be. I didn't want to go to this dinner because I would inevitably run into a least one person I couldn't stand and would rather not see.
I'm especially sensitive right now because I feel like, despite working so hard in college, I have nothing to show for it. I have no employment as of right now. I could make excuses about the economy and about my family situation, but they're just excuses. And in any case, I'm sick of people's judgment on the subject.
But I was still planning on going. So, I started picking out my outfit. I was planning on wearing a nice purple blouse with my black professional pants. And then I couldn't find the pants.
I searched all over the house. Nothing. This is one of the many reasons I hate living here. I don't want to use the washing machine because my Mom has flooded the house with it no less than six times. The ones at school are far more reliable and no one would blame me if it exploded. So my Dad does the laundry and then clothes go missing because, despite labeling my clothes, he puts them elsewhere, in other closets, in the living room, hoarding them in the laudry room, and as I discovered today, storing them in the basement. I wore those pants about a month ago at the Honors College event for graduates, so I know they have to be somewhere.
I'm increasingly worried that I left them at school. As I mentioned yesterday, I have only recently started going through certain boxes, but I'm starting to wonder if a box got misplaces. I am missing part of my beloved music collection (including Outkast's Speakerboxxx/The Love Below), two anthologies of feminist theory I was working on, God's War, and now these pants. In the rush to get out of Lansing, I can't remember if these items were all in the same box or not, but I'm getting worried.
If I lost that stuff, I'll be heartbroken. The pants can be replaced, eventually, though the way my body is, it'll be hard to find a pair of pants that looked that good on me. But I don't even remember all of the music I had in there (though it was probably around 20 CDs). Sometimes I have CDs that are rare/signed by artists, and I'll probably never be able to recoup that loss. And those books were expensive; two of them were around 800 pages.
So I'm really upset right now. I decided that I wouldn't go if I couldn't find those pants, because in addition to being judged by the appearance that I haven't done anything in the last five years, I really couldn't stand people looking at me and thinking about how ugly and/or unkempt I am. I'm further embarrassed and frustrated by my concern for a) my appearance and b) what people think of me. These people were almost all assholes, if not incredibly dense, so just finding them thinking at all would be impressive.
One of the many things that managed to grate on me was about this charity dinner my Mom wanted us to go to. A girl my sister knows from high school was diagnosed with cancer a few years back, and they occasionally hold events to raise money to take care of her.
I really didn't want to go, but I decided to play nice about it. The reason I don't want to go was that I really hated my high school. Not even everyone, but a large portion of people. I'm really glad that whole part of my life is over. Despite my Mom always encouraging me to go back and talk to people, I generally don't want to. There are a few people who I don't talk to anymore that I wouldn't mind running into or hanging out with, and a small group I still text or have fun with, but I'm generally separated from those people. And glad to be. I didn't want to go to this dinner because I would inevitably run into a least one person I couldn't stand and would rather not see.
I'm especially sensitive right now because I feel like, despite working so hard in college, I have nothing to show for it. I have no employment as of right now. I could make excuses about the economy and about my family situation, but they're just excuses. And in any case, I'm sick of people's judgment on the subject.
But I was still planning on going. So, I started picking out my outfit. I was planning on wearing a nice purple blouse with my black professional pants. And then I couldn't find the pants.
I searched all over the house. Nothing. This is one of the many reasons I hate living here. I don't want to use the washing machine because my Mom has flooded the house with it no less than six times. The ones at school are far more reliable and no one would blame me if it exploded. So my Dad does the laundry and then clothes go missing because, despite labeling my clothes, he puts them elsewhere, in other closets, in the living room, hoarding them in the laudry room, and as I discovered today, storing them in the basement. I wore those pants about a month ago at the Honors College event for graduates, so I know they have to be somewhere.
I'm increasingly worried that I left them at school. As I mentioned yesterday, I have only recently started going through certain boxes, but I'm starting to wonder if a box got misplaces. I am missing part of my beloved music collection (including Outkast's Speakerboxxx/The Love Below), two anthologies of feminist theory I was working on, God's War, and now these pants. In the rush to get out of Lansing, I can't remember if these items were all in the same box or not, but I'm getting worried.
If I lost that stuff, I'll be heartbroken. The pants can be replaced, eventually, though the way my body is, it'll be hard to find a pair of pants that looked that good on me. But I don't even remember all of the music I had in there (though it was probably around 20 CDs). Sometimes I have CDs that are rare/signed by artists, and I'll probably never be able to recoup that loss. And those books were expensive; two of them were around 800 pages.
So I'm really upset right now. I decided that I wouldn't go if I couldn't find those pants, because in addition to being judged by the appearance that I haven't done anything in the last five years, I really couldn't stand people looking at me and thinking about how ugly and/or unkempt I am. I'm further embarrassed and frustrated by my concern for a) my appearance and b) what people think of me. These people were almost all assholes, if not incredibly dense, so just finding them thinking at all would be impressive.
Tesla, You're Making Problems for Me
Today, a certain friend sent me a link to this. It's a nifty looking device, no?
Because of the overtures this friend has been sending me now for over two months, I believe this person is trying to send the message they want me to use this on them, which is certainly a temptation.
Last night, I was considering if I would be okay allowing a man to worship me, but not be involved with in beyond fulfilling each other's fetish. (I, obviously, like worship, he, in this theoretical I was constructing, is a foot fetishists and likes to massage feet.) No romantic attachment, or at least no traditional romantic attachment. I think, with the right young man, I'd be game.
The problem is finding a young man like that. And affording a device like the one above.
Because of the overtures this friend has been sending me now for over two months, I believe this person is trying to send the message they want me to use this on them, which is certainly a temptation.
Last night, I was considering if I would be okay allowing a man to worship me, but not be involved with in beyond fulfilling each other's fetish. (I, obviously, like worship, he, in this theoretical I was constructing, is a foot fetishists and likes to massage feet.) No romantic attachment, or at least no traditional romantic attachment. I think, with the right young man, I'd be game.
The problem is finding a young man like that. And affording a device like the one above.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Miscellaneous Thoughts
So, this is a terrible thing to admit, but I accidentally threw a box of my stuff from school downstairs and didn't remember that I had yet to go through it. So, I'm looking through it now and it's making me think all sorts of miscellaneous thoughts.
One of the first things I found was my set of flashcards for the GRE. My Dad thinks I should retake it, and he does have a point, my scores were only above average, not extraordinary. I just really hated studying for it and taking it, because it's designed so that there's no way to win. It just makes you feel like your brain is fried.
I also found a ton of that girly spa stuff. I'm starting to hide it from my sister, in an attempt to use it (sparingly, unlike what she does) on myself.
One of the first things I found was my set of flashcards for the GRE. My Dad thinks I should retake it, and he does have a point, my scores were only above average, not extraordinary. I just really hated studying for it and taking it, because it's designed so that there's no way to win. It just makes you feel like your brain is fried.
I also found a ton of that girly spa stuff. I'm starting to hide it from my sister, in an attempt to use it (sparingly, unlike what she does) on myself.
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