Giving Thanks

As I celebrated Christmas with my family, I began to think about all of the traditions associated with Christmas. My mother asked me to sing a song for my family, which I did, and had a multitude of songs to choose from. Mom's house was covered in beautiful decorations, the tree, the lights, the wreath. We had a lovely dinner (and dessert!) and opened a few presents and then to bed until Christmas morn.

Christmas day played out much like Christmas Eve. More presents, huge breakfast, followed by general laziness by all. This was repeated at my father's house later in the evening.

The Christmas season got me to thinking about other holidays. Easter, Halloween, birthdays, Fourth of July. They are all surrounded by so many traditions and rituals. We sing, we eat, we get together with people we love. And then I thought, what about Thanksgiving?

What about Thanksgiving? It is the day we celebrate the bully behavior of the first American settlers for kicking off the natives so we could live here. We do get together with our families and we do eat, but what the hell else is there?

Take Halloween for example. Halloween is ALWAYS on October 31. Thanksgiving doesn't even have a set day, just an understood rule that its on some Thursday in November. Some people spend the entire year developing a costume to wear on Halloween; do we really get that dressed up for Thanksgiving?

And what about the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? IT IS A PARADE DEVOTED TO ANOTHER HOLIDAY. Don't try and tell me that that parade is about Thanksgiving, it is clearly all about Christmas.

At least Easter gets a mascot. Does Thanksgiving have a mascot? The turkey? We EAT turkey on Thanksgiving. Do we eat rabbit on Easter? Or pumpkins on Halloween? NO.

What Thanksgiving songs are there? There is a song exclusively devoted to birthdays, what about that Thursday in November?

I understand that Thanksgiving is a good holiday, and one that should be celebrated, I just think it kind of got the short end of the holiday stick. All it really has are large ugly birds and Publix commercials. Time to step it up, Thanksgiving. Take back the parade!!! Sing some songs! Get a mascot that we don't devour! I would be thankful for that.

seamus hackworth?

James,

I couldn't send you a message on facebook, so assuming that you (for some reason) still read my blog, would you please message me on facebook or something? I want to talk to you. Or more like apologize.

Girl who was a huge bitch last time we spoke,

Bonnie

Oh and hey everyone else. I will update more soon, I have so many ideas. After Christmas, I don't work again until January 2, so expect something great!

Faux Poor

As Leah pointed out what should have been obvious to me, I am posting the piece I wrote for Kyle on here. Enjoy and watch for more!

Fashion: Faux Poor

If you're a student at UGA or a resident of Athens, you're familiar with the designer products a majority of students are privileged enough to wear. You could be thinking of anything; if it can be made "designer," someone in Brumby will have it. Whether it be the now mass-produced fleece jacket to match your mass-produced bookbag, those shorts with the lines that are supposed to streamline your legs (they don't), to computers to keychains, to the luxury vehicle that even your dad can't afford, brand names unfortunately abound in the Classic City. It can be really difficult for a student not so privileged to feel adequate enough when their sunglasses don't have two tiny white words printed on the lens. So what does a young person do when they can't afford to fit in, say... in Terry? I have one name for you:

Lamar Dodd.

Welcome to the Mecca of the faux poor, the destitute destination for all of the University. How often have you seen someone downtown and thought to yourself, "I wonder if that person is homeless?" and it turns out they're just a pottery major? I know I have, and I've developed a keen eye for the style of the art student. Rich or poor, hobo chic is the way to dress down at the art school. And the look of the art student is oh so easy to emulate. Allow me to suggest some ways that you, yes YOU, can become your own Chuck Close, a modern day Van Gogh (ear chopping not required, though the dried blood would look pretty beggarly):

#1 - Hygiene.

DO. NOT. BATHE. Seriously. This is the foundation of looking (and smelling) like an art student. And if you absolutely have to shower, do not wash your hair. Speaking of hair, you should probably cut it into something choppy, and bangs are a must. Both of those techniques provide a good base for the greasy look you are trying to achieve. The dirtier you are, the poorer you look. The poorer you look, the less understood you feel; and the less understood you are, the better your art is.

#2 - Clothing.

Know those terrible jeans your mom made you wear in like middle school? Dig them out and wear them everyday for the remainder of the semester. Pretty much anything without a collar and with an ironic logo is acceptable for the top, but rips, tears and stains definitely say, "I sleep in a box." Also, any art supply you can get on the clothing is excellent, even if you don't paint, draw, etc. Rub a charcoaled hand across your shirt and go!

#3 - Accessories.

Scarves. And nothing else. Lots and lots of scarves. Don't have one? Ask Dr. Zuraw if you can borrow one of hers.

Oh, and get a couple of tattoos.

#4 - Cigarettes.

Ok, this may not exactly fall into the "poor" aspect, as cigarettes cost money, but you have to smoke. Preferably American Spirits or Parliaments. It may as well be a requirement to become an art major, like a superinflated ego.

These are just a few suggestions, and if you're actually poor, you'll have no problem fitting in and making friends.

Until the smelly kid next to you pulls out his MacBook and starts taking notes. Because remember, these art kids are not actually poor: Their torn up, "vintage" style probably costs as much, if not more than those logo-ed co-ed clothes. And believe me, American Spirits are NOT cheap. The trick, however, is to appear poverty-stricken and if you actually are broke, the art kids will never know the difference. So all you poor kids who feel that you can’t fit in anywhere on North Campus, make the trek down to Lamar Dodd, light up one of your expensive cigarettes and feel welcome.

Can’t draw?

Don’t worry, neither can they.

the goat

Hello everyone!

School this semester is INTENSE and I apologize for my lack of writing.

However, a friend of mine has started a satirical blog for UGA and has recruited me to write for him! Stop by and read my first article and let me know what you think!


thegoat-uga.blogspot.com

to bang or not to bang?

TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY?!

I'm getting a haircut on Sunday* and I cannot decide what I want to do!!! I've had an on/off relationship with bangs for about two years now and I think I want them back, but I cannot decide. I need your help. Sooo....

No bangs? Or.....

Bangs?

*City Salon is hosting a cut-a-thon on Sunday from 12-5pm. All haircuts are 20$ and all proceeds go to Project Safe. No appointments, just a first come, first served basis. GREAT DEAL.

its been a while

Hello all five people that read my blog.

I apologize for the absence and my own laziness. As previously stated, having a boyfriend is a lot of work (which I plan to write an entire, lengthy blog about) and now that school has started back, I'm taking four classes and working 18 hours a week, I have very little time. BUT, in an effort to put my life in some sort of order, I want to get my blog going again. I love having it as a creative outlet, and as just a place to share all the things I find interesting about my young life. And Leah, don't worry, I have a long list of things that need to be blogged about, so it will be sometime before you're bored.

However, today's blog will be short. I should be working on a paper right now that is due on Friday. I'm just proud of myself that its not Thursday night at 9pm when I start it. Anyway, I want to share with all of you a website that I find amusing. Amusing is not even an adequate word to describe this website, honestly.

We all think there is something strange or weird about our family. It could be the uncle you have that wears short shorts, or perhaps your grandma has more cats than grandchildren. Either way, chances are good that you have taken a photograph (or five) with said weird relative. Enter the greatest collection of photographs to behold...

awkwardfamilyphotos.com

I will say, as the website has gained popularity, the photos have waned in quality. And by that I mean there are fewer pictures of adults in Whinnie The Pooh costumes, so you may have to go back and look through several pages to find the truly awkward ones.

But trust me, it is totally worth it.

Maybe I'll upload that one of Dad in a union suit from Christmas morning 1987...

I spilled a bottle of water...

A while ago, I posted about a website called "fmylife.com" and about how funny it is.  

Here, my friends, is its less funny, but still amusing, almost dry, little sister, mylifeisaverage.com.

Happy Monday, everyone.

The Picture of Dorian Gray Hair Cover-up

Hello all.  I know it has been too long since I last posted. By way of excuse, I am taking two summer classes, working and have recently started dating someone.  Like actually dating them.  Like I have a boyfriend.  But I digress.  

Last month, I was reading the June issue of Vogue, and was enjoying the issue as I usually do.  Then I came across the article "Fat Chances", an article that has the sub-headline of "will body perfection one day be possible...a new world way beyond lipo".  The article goes on to detail how women these days along with wanting to look thin, also want to look young: "Ten years ago, the women who came to see me just wanted to look thinner...now they want their body to look younger, too".  (May I add here that this is coming from the magazine that at some point last year had what they called the Body Issue, which celebrated many different types of bodies.  yeah.  seriously.)  The article has sections titled "The Fat Blasters: Lipo Plus", "Fat-Dissolving Injections", "The Tighteners" (which in my opinion sounds like the title of a horror film), and "Cellulite: The Eternal Scourge".  

I think at this point, I put the magazine down and thought about never opening another issue of Vogue again. 

As a young woman, with virtually no gray hair or wrinkles or other "age" markers, I haven't really thought about what it will be like to look older.  I have thought about what it will be like for my hair to go gray, and have pretty well decided that I will never dye my hair and just let it age naturally.  I read a quote by Ann Curry a few years ago that I tried to find, but could not, so I will paraphrase, but it was something like "I hope that one day my wrinkles will show how much I laughed and lived".  It was something much more poetic than that.  My point is that I am going to live a full life and laugh a lot and probably cry a lot and yeah, my face is going to show that.  Yes, I use moisturizer and eye cream and wear huge sunglasses until dusk, but I'm not that worried about getting wrinkles. 

Now, apparently, I need to start worrying about what age my BODY looks.  

If you've read any of my previous writing, you know that I get a little worked up over body image issues.  However, I've only focused on the problems that YOUNG women face, children, teenagers and women my age.  I guess I sort of assumed that women matured out of the whole "caring about what the world thinks of you" thing.  I assumed wrong.  It is not enough anymore to think that you aren't thin or pretty enough, now you need to think that you're not young enough. That maybe your stomach isn't that flat anymore or your hips are a little bit wider (the author of the article mentions the "curve of her lower back".  I had no idea that was a problem area.  oops).  

What in the hell is so wrong with looking your age?  

When we are younger, we want to look older.  When we are older, we want to look younger.  I get that.  But going to extreme measures, using something called "the tighteners" to look 25 again?  

In the same issue of Vogue, there is an interview with Cameron Diaz, in which she says, "I'm not 25 years old anymore, nor do I want to be.  I wouldn't even want to go back to being 30.  That journey-I've done it already".  HOW CAN YOU HAVE THAT IN THE SAME ISSUE AS SOMETHING ABOUT HATING YOUR AGING BODY?!  Nice work, editing.  

There is a lot that is screwed up about the way Americans treat women, the way this culture expects women to look like, so my next statement is most likely unnecessary, but what happened to age=wisdom?  What happened to the respect that comes with living, with experience, with knowing more about the world through LIFE?  Or is that still there, we just expect our women to live always in the shadow of impending liposuction?  We can only respect an elderly woman if she appears to be 30?  

I really hate that this new way of self-loathing has been brought to my attention.  Now I know that for ever long I live, there will always be a new way to hate my body. 

 I better go wrap myself in sea kelp now and age away in an infrared sauna.  

HOTlanta

I have often wondered why Southerners tend to be more creative than people from other parts of the country.  I honestly believe it is because they are so hot for so much of their life.  Maybe the heat makes your brain more imaginative, or maybe it just melts down your inhibitions, allowing creativity to flow as freely as the sweet tea.  Or maybe this whole time I've been mistaking insanity for imagination.  

It is interesting to me how it appears that we in the south don't deal well with weather.  If it rains, we freak out.  If it snows, just stay in your home, leaving will only result in confusion. It seems we are only content when it is 73 degrees and sunny.  

But the heat, the heat is a completely different animal.  From April until October, the south puts on us a great big snuggie and doesn't take it off until Thanksgiving.  You can't sit still without sweating.  People say that life in the south is so slow, we do everything so slow.  Let them live in Georgia in July and see how fast they do things.  This heat makes me want to lie completely still on a giant block of ice.  This heat makes me want to chop off all my hair and throw away anything with sleeves.  And it's not even the hottest it will get yet.  It is only the beginning of June.  Soon, the only refuge we will get is the hours after the earth has finally cooled from the hot afternoon, right before the sun comes up.  Those few hours are the coolest, when most of us should be asleep, before the south has a chance to heat up again.  

When people say "the south will rise again", maybe they just mean the temperature.  

batons and self loathing

I guess it's never too early to start hating your body.

get in shape, girl

Camp Lesbian

On Monday, Chelsea and I drove 5.5 hours to visit the glamorous  Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, for a few reasons: 

#1  We both wanted to go to the beach.

#2  It is relatively close.

#3  My aunt Jill and her partner, Mischelle live there.

#4  Please see reason #1. 

The drive was very easy and we arrived Monday afternoon to my aunt's house, greeted by Jill and her fifteen dogs.  I mean, four dogs, including one pug puppy with a name that I cannot remember that sounds like a Middle Eastern country.  We ate a quick lunch and asked where the nearest beach would be with the least amount of people.  Jill directed us to Lichfield or something like that, which appeared to be a sort of haven for rich white people who lack creativity in their need to name their beach houses.  We walked out on the sand, breathed in the sea air and found a spot to lay in the overcast sun.  I immediately went in the water, feeling the waves crash around me.  It felt so good.  I went to lay in the sun, shamed into keeping on my shorts by the buff old ladies running on the beach and ogled the one young man on the beach instead.  After a few hours, we went back to Jill's to change and go eat dinner, being led to the most expensive Chinese buffet ever by my "adopted" "cousin" (apparently my aunt's penchant for taking in stray dogs is only rivaled by her need to rescue teens in distress).  Chelsea and I drank $12 worth of water, found some kick ass koozies and went back to the house, exhausted.  The rest of the evening is mostly a blur, something about Miller High Life, a woman named Annette who wants to be like me when she grows up, and Trivial Pursuit.  Bed.

We got up at some point and went to the beach before it could rain.  We agreed to apply sunscreen once an hour, on the hour.  We thought we succeeded, but soon found that we did not, and that we were both burned.  That aside, it was one of the most enjoyable days at the beach I have ever experienced.  The sun was shining, it was not too hot, the ocean was blue and lovely.  Those damn old ladies and their hot legs did make an appearance, but other than that, it was a great day at the beach.  Until we left and realized how burned we were.  We went back to the house and showered and went in search of food.  We wanted a local pizza place, so Mischelle directed us to Mama Bella's, which we were told was next to The Hot Dog Queen.  She was not joking, there is a place called The Hot Dog Queen.  We went to Mama Bella's and met the nicest woman ever, who gave us free drinks as she hand made our pizza.  Quella pizza era migliore pizza.  It was so good.  We all watched Hotel for Dogs and soon went to bed.  

We got up early on Wednesday, as we were leaving that afternoon and wanted to have a full day.  We did, however, wish to remain fully clothed to avoid any further sun damage.  Mischelle suggested we go to a pier in Garden City.  Piers always make me think of the 1940s for some reason, despite the number of people in ill fitting swim suits.  We took pictures of a pelican and then stared at the ocean for close to an hour (and when I say "ocean", I mean people in the water and when I say "people" I mean boys and when I say "boys" I mean males who look much older from far away but once you get close to them you realize they are probably still in highschool).  We bought more kick ass koozies and I finally got a hot dog.  We made our way back to the house, packed, kissed all the dogs good-bye, posed for party boat pictures and started home.  

I'm pretty sure if there is something you can think of that could go wrong while you're on a long drive, that thing happened to us on the way home.  First, we were caught in a scene from Twister which resulted in us pulled off on the side of the road cramming kit-kats down our throats to distract from the monsoon.  THEN, we were happened upon Columbia, South Carolina at 5pm which is apparently South Carolina time for "let's all get into pretty bad wrecks".  We saw at least three wrecks + what had to have been rush hour traffic.  It took us half an hour to go like two miles.  THEN, we started hearing this weird flapping sound.  We pulled off the road and saw that a piece of Chelsea's car had come unhinged.  We deemed the piece unimportant and kept driving.  It took us over SIX HOURS to get back to Athens, and when we did, it was a relief.  

Overall, it was a great time.  It was very chill, very relaxing, which is exactly what we both wanted.  I had a pretty brutal spring semester and am taking two summer classes that start next week, so this was a very welcome break from school, work and Athens.  But I am glad to be home, glad my sunburn is healing, glad that I have the knowledge that Camp Lesbian is only 5.5-6 hours away.  

fml

Summer is here and I have been surprised to find how much time it takes to do absoultely close to nothing. One of my many distractions, besides craigslist and library books, is this absolutely hliarious website. I mean, it probably isn't as funny as if I had just composed some brilliant blog about how I had dinner with/taught English (and maybe a little French too hehe) to a Czech guy last night, but close.

fml

all of my beeswax

I am not very trendy.  I am usually one of the last people to know or try something.

I'll give you a moment to silently disagree with that.

I STILL don't have a digital camera and I think was the last person on earth to play guitar hero.  

HOWEVER

If there is one thing I'm hip to, it is lip product.  

When I was in the second grade, my family moved to Conyers, Georgia where my dad worked as the operations manager at Underground Atlanta.  At the mall, there was a store The Nature Store or something like that.  There, they sold a little known product called Burt's Bees.  

Even at a young age, I was a lip balm connoisseur.  I had tried them all, Chaptstick, Lip Smackers, SoftLips.  They all paled in comparison to this minty balm that came in the yellow tin.  My father brought some home one day to me and I have never looked back.  I very rarely strayed, always having a little tin of minty delight in my pocket.  

Then, we moved back to Danielsville.  And I lost my beloved Nature Store or whatever it was called, along with my lip balm.  

BUT ALAS, my mother, being the herbalist that she is, discovered my sweet nectar at Phoenix, a store that used to be downtown on Pulaski but has since moved to Epps Bridge.  There, they sold my beloved balm.  My friends began trying it, complaining that it would sting their lips, but eventually loving the way it made their lips feel.  I soon had half of Danielsville using my beloved product.  

You all know how the rest of this story goes.  Burt's Bees is now a booming business, selling not just the lip balm, but glosses, lipsticks, and all kinds of bath products.  They also have a variety of lip balms, the original, honey and pomegranate, all of which I enjoy (warning: DO NOT try the LifeGuard kind OR the clove.  grossgrossgross).  Now, when I see Burt's Bees selling at Target and WalMart, I sigh, and think about how I singlehandedly made that company flourish.  

Ok, not really.  But I have purchased goodness knows how many dollars worth of Burt's products, and will continue to do so.  Thanks, Burt!  And thanks, bees!

number one draft picks and me

Hey all.  My finals are over!  Hoorah!  I had plans to go out with my friends and partypartyparty tonight, but my throat started hurting the night before last and has not stopped AND I have to be at work at 8am tomorrow, so I didn't want to risk getting sicker by going out and grinding on strangers.  I'll do that Saturday.  

Today, I would like to tell the charming stories of my interactions with the NFL's number one draft pick this season (or whatever they call this time frame), the one, the only, Matthew Stafford.  My affair with Matthew Stafford began many years ago, on a cold, January day.  Young Stafford was in my orientation group at the University of Georgia.  We were both young, nervous.  Actually, that is not true. I was 20 years old and there with my dad, he was like 17 and there making money breathing.  Our eyes met.  That probably isn't true either.  The only reason I even remember that he was in my orientation group, along with several other football players, is that a rep from the athletic department kept checking on them.  Every few minutes, "Do you need anything?  Are you ok?"  I remember commenting to my dad about how annoying it was.  If only I had known what would become of Matthew and me.  

I will begin with my third most close interaction with the young athlete.  I was standing in Park Hall, waiting to enter my classroom.  I saw the quarterback sitting on a bench across from me, reading a paper.  Probably looking for mentionings of his own name.  Jerk.  Anyway, as I was staring at him, a class let out nearby, and students started filing into the hallway.  Soon, two bros walked past, talking.  

One says, "Hey Matt!" 

nothingnothingnothingnothing

The man didn't even look up from his newspaper to acknowledge this young, admiring fan.  

I almost laughed aloud and said to the one guy, "Dude, you are TOTALLY not friends with Matthew Stafford!!"

But that would have been rude.

My most intimate encounter with the star (now making over like $70million) was when he came into MY bookstore to sell back some books.  Normally, when I see athletes come in, I get annoyed before they even open their mouths or bookbags.  While there have been some exceptions (Mohamed Massaqua is one of the nicest men I've ever met.  Same with Craig Lumpkin), they usually complain about not getting money back for books they did not buy (or read) in the first place. 

But not Matthew.

No, Matthew Stafford put his books in a neat pile on the counter and patiently waited as I told him how much they were worth.  One of the books was a hard back, desk-type dictionary.  In shrink wrap.  He tried to sell it back, and it was not worth anything.  I gave him his money and he started to leave, without the dictionary.  

I said, "Do you want this?"

His response?

"No, I won't use it."

No, Matthew, you wouldn't, and it looks like you never will.  

I should have made him sign it.     

brb

After finals are done!

xoxo

what happened to childhood

When I was ten, I was probably playing in a pile of dirt or in a creek.  

what is the world coming to 

mad world

I hope not to sensationalize this more than it already has been, but these three people were friends of my father.  As he put it, "I've lost people before, but never three at one time."  I do this to in some way contribute, to recognize what has been done and what has been lost.  May their friends and families be comforted.  

talk like an egyptian

"It was impossible to converse with her without being immediately captivated by her.  Her voice was velvety, her conversation stimulating, her powers of persuasion matchless; her presence, an event."

I know, I know, you all are thinking that the above quote is about me.  

Sorry to disappoint, but it is not.  It is about one of the most mysterious women of all time: Cleopatra.  

I have long had an interest (obsession) with all things Egyptian, ever since I was a little girl and my mother got us a set of hieroglyphic stamps.  I even dressed as Cleopatra for a school event long ago: 

Yep, I was really damn cute.  Please notice the strategically placed cat.  

I stumbled across this article in the New York Times about the tomb of Cleopatra, or what they think is the tomb of Cleopatra.  READ IT.

Remember, clever women are dangerous women. 

  

omg school omg

Please see title.

party with some rockstars

I was recently introduced to the wonders of Craigslist.  Chelsea showed me the "missed connections" section, which was hilarious, and we hoped that we would one day be listed on there (cute brunette, Baxter Street Bookstore).

I soon ventured further from "missed connections" to view the other sections about people.  Let me say here that there is a lot of junk on craigslist, a lot of whack people and some vulgar stuff and some RAUNCHY pictures.  That being said, I soon found my way over to "men seeking women".  'Cause, you never know.

I came upon a post that said something about "2 weird guys playing show".  I was intrigued.  I read it, and laughed the whole time.  It was two members of a band that would be in Athens on Wednesday night.  They were looking for two friends to go on a double date with.  They reminded me a lot of a good number of my friends, at least their sense of humor did.  And they were cute.  I responded to their post, saying that I wasn't sure about the date business, but they seemed like a lot of fun, so I would try and go to their show.  

They didn't respond until Wednesday afternoon, and told me I needed to go to the show, and bring my friends.  I responded to them with my phone number and told them they could stay at my house if they needed to.  I also tried to get Chelsea to go with me to see them, and she said it was a bad idea.  Which is honestly probably the more responsible attitude, but my thinking was, this will either be the best night of my life OR I will end up in a ditch somewhere, wearing someone else's underwear. I'm not sure the two are mutually exclusive.  But she refused.  

I had my doubts, but I finished the paper that was due on Thursday and thought, what the hell, I'm young, I'm single, I've had a long week, I'M GOING FOR IT.

I got to Go Bar and I was the only one there.  

Except the band.

All SEVEN of them.  

Including Danny and Marcello, the boys I had been texting.  We sat around talking for a while, I desperately tried to get more people to the show (thanks, Nicholas for showing up!) and they played a little while later.  

AND THEY WERE SO CUTE.  

After the show and after they had packed up, I took them to the Grill for coffee and we sat outside the bar, waiting for Chelsea to show up for the double date to begin.  Once she got there, we took the rest of the band to my apartment to go to bed, and we four went to Waffle House.  They are from San Francisco, so Waffle House was new to them.  Then we took them on a ghost tour of campus.  We went back to my apartment and played Apples to Apples before passing out around 4am.  

Thursday morning, I got up around 11:30, showered and went downstairs.  One person was reading, one was playing the acoustic guitar and one was doing yoga.  Did I mention that these are like the coolest, chillest people I've ever met?  And nicest?  So nice.  Their music is really dark and heavy and strange, but they are like..there are no words to describe how REAL they are.  Half of them are teachers.  And all but one are vegetarians.  

Naturally, we went to the Grit for lunch (and they would not shut up about Fred Schneider and Michael Stipe).  We enjoyed lunch together and then they were on the road to Atlanta.  

The moral of this story, kids, is that you can find some great friends via Craigslist.  I do caution: if you choose this path, PROCEED WITH CAUTION. I had a good feeling about these guys, and I ended up being right and meeting 7 awesome new people. However, not everyone on craigslist, on the internet is so friendly.  Let me also say this: DON'T BE AFRAID TO MAKE A MOVE.  I have spent most of my life not taking chances, doing everything right. This was a bold move and I'm so glad I made it.  They were so fun.  

New Thrill Parade.  Look them up.  

this isn't goodbye

I have three papers due this week and a test.  

I'll be back on Friday.  

Kisses.  

wtf spring fashions

I am not in a good mood.  

The first thing I would like to complain about is this military-inspired jacket that I keep seeing.  I first saw it on the Sartorialist in March:

I then saw it in Vogue, or Harper's Bazaar.  THEN I SAW IT AGAIN:

OMG I HATE IT SO MUCH.  And why do you have to wear it with black leather pants?  Hmmm???

Secondly, I haaaattteee the way J.Crew rolls up their pant legs.  HATE IT.  I hate the way it looks.  

So imagine my anger when I open The Sartorialist today and see THIS:

WHY OH WHY

*Disclaimer: none of these photos belong to me.  Please don't sue me, Mr. Sartorialist or Mr. Crew.

dye-ing for spring

Those are the pictures I tried to include when I first wrote this.  Please excuse my lazy placement.  

I just wrote for three hours straight.  Ok, maybe not three hours, but from 2-4:30, I was scrivo scrivo scrivo.  We started Rembrandt in northern and we had a test in ancient, so my little kid hands are sleepy.  

Sunday night, me and a few friends gathered at Chelsea's for a pre-Easter dinner.  May I interject here that I had THREE dinner invitations for Sunday night. THREE.  I don't get three invitations anywhere in a week.  Three in one night.  My powers of tricking people into liking me are working...

It was what appeared to be an egg themed evening.  Chelsea made quiche (my recipe, which became mine when David gave it to me) and we then dyed eggs for Easter.  BUT FIRST we had like the best salad I have ever eaten.  Or at least the most aesthetically pleasing salad.  

Chelsea made the leafy parts and Ajyra brought the strawberries, walnuts and feta.  

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm so good

We then ate the quiche, which is always tasty.  Then we dyed eggs!  Which I don't know that I have ever done, but it was a lot of fun.  Behold the glowing eggs of Easter!

That is some bowl Chelsea had, which appropriately served as a nest for our pastel eggs.  

After we dyed the eggs, we ate the pie I made for dessert.  It was like the oreo dirt cups you probably made as a child, with chocolate pudding and gummy worms and oreos.  At some point, my family started making a pie variation, which I'm sure is common, but I couldn't find the recipe anywhere online.  I made it based on the vague directions my mother gave me of "it really isn't that hard to figure out-milk, pudding, cool whip and cream cheese".  I poured all of that goodness into an oreo pie crust and topped it with cookie crumbles and gummy worms.  

It was so damn good.  Good enough that Ajyra broke her no chocolate for Lent vow ("Don't tell anyone.  Palm Sunday is close enough, right?  Ugh, Bonnie, I wish you had made it in styrofoam cups instead").  

It was a fun night, almost warm, but not cold.

Right before the April snow flurries. 

reCYCLED not reUSED

omg I have fifteen things I should be doing AT THIS VERY MOMENT so this will be brief.  

From what I have heard, most toilet paper is made from virgin trees (that doesn't mean trees that haven't been germinated. pervert.)  Trees that could otherwise be growing, providing shade for a forest and habitat for critters, are being used to make toilet paper.  Think about that for a second.

think think think think

Something you use for a very short amount of time and is then discarded (I'm assuming) is made from trees.  A renewable resource, yes, but the time it takes TO RENEW them is considerably longer than the time it takes to cut them down.  

Now, there are better options for people, like myself, who care about cutting down trees to make toilet paper.

RECYCLED TOILET PAPER!

I was very hesitant at first.  My immediate thought was "omg gross they're using toilet paper people have already used to make new toilet paper??" which I knew of course was not the case, but a funny thought none the less.  It is made from recycled paper goods, just like any recycled paper you might buy.  I bought some probably over a year ago and did not buy it again, as it was not a very good product.  

Now that everyone is on the "green" band wagon (either because they have realized we're killing the planet very quickly or it is an excellent way to make money), companies have started to I guess put more time and energy into developing recycled toilet paper that is usable. 

Scott has an excellent version that is almost exactly like their regular product.  It is a little less soft, but not so much that I would stop using it.  It is made from at least 45% recycled materials. 

Publix also has a version from their GreenWise line.  It too is a very good product.  It is made from 100% recycled materials and also uses a chlorine free whitening process. 

From my understanding, Marcal makes all of their toilet paper from at least a certain percentage of recycled materials.  Several companies will put on the packaging if they make their product from recycled materials or not, and usually give a percentage number.  

This is a very small way that you can help the environment.  It isn't drastic, it won't cost you money (in fact, I believe most of these products are cheaper than many other brands of toilet paper) and it won't change your quality of life.  It will just help to make the world a better, healthier place. 

my name is not susan

If I had to pick for myself a feminist concentration, it would probably be body image issues.  Mostly probably because that is something that I personally have dealt with/am dealing with/will probably continue dealing with for the rest of my life.    

Body image issues are only a small fraction of the complex and difficult problems women face today.  Something that I fortunately have never been faced with is violence.  I don't really understand the violence against women thing.  My guess is that women are seen as the "weaker sex" and can therefore be taken advantage of?  Or maybe it is a form of control.  

And it isn't just physical violence that women face.  There is emotional abuse, sexual abuse and what I'd like to discuss here, verbal abuse (and many many more).  

I watched a video on feministing.com, an anti-violence commercial, that I would like you all to watch.  It is only a minute long, so here, watch it.

I understand that a lot of girls my in my age bracket like to use words like "slut" and "whore" and "bitch" as terms of sort of...endearment.  I know I do.  And I don't mean them as "hey, you, you who sleeps around a whole lot, you want to study with me later?" Those words have just become phrases that we throw around.

Maybe we should think more about what we are saying.

I hope that none of you are actually actively dealing with verbal abuse.  The closest I have come to this name calling is drunk idiots calling me "baby" or "sweetheart".  But seriously, lets please think a little more about how we speak to one another.  

I'll use this as an opportunity to invite everyone to participate with Take Back the Night.  It is a way to make people more aware of violence against women and in general.  Next Thursday, April 9, there will be events all day at the Tate center, starting around 10am.  At around 7:30pm, we will march from the Tate center to city hall, where there will be a candle light vigil.  It really is a neat experience, very moving and empowering.  

If you're uncomfortable with marching through the streets of Athens, there will also be Dance Back the Night, Tuesday, April 7.  It will be at Cine and it starts at 7pm and ends at 2am.  Various bands will be playing from 7-midnight and then a DJ will come on.  They are asking for a donation of at least $3, and all proceeds benefit The Cottage (formerly the Sexual Assault Center of Northeast Georgia).  It should be a lot of fun, and I know I'm really excited for it.

I know a lot of what I post is comical or silly or me ranting about cereal, but this is something I take very seriously, something that is very dear to me.  Even if you just read this and maybe change the way you speak to women (and I too am going to reevaluate my speech) or maybe talk to a friend about this, it would mean so much to me.  

AND IT WOULD SO MUCH MORE IF YOU CAME AND DANCED AND/OR MARCHED!!!

gonna make you (not) sweat til you bleed

I sweat.  A lot.  I think it runs in my family and it is totally gross and uncomfortable.  

I think it also has something to do with living in the south, where in the summer, you sweat standing still.  Well, summer, fall and spring.  And parts of December.  

Anyway, I have tried several various deodorants to limit my sweat output.  Out of high school, a friend recommended I try Certain Dri. 

 

This stuff actually works really well.  The only thing about it is that you have to put it on at night, before you go to bed.  And you can't put it on after showering or shaving.  So you can't shower before bed.  BUT it does all but stop underarm sweat (which I began to wonder if that was unhealthy or not) and after I stopped using it, for a long time, I still sweated less.  

But of course, like stupid acne, the sweating came back.  I guess the excessive sweating phenomenon is sweeping the country, because starting some time last year, several major deodorant brands came out with their own "prescription strength" products.  I myself have only tried the Dove version.  Behold:

What I like about this deodorant is that it smells great, like regular deodorant.  However, this one is a little bit tricksy.

The directions say to apply the deodorant at night, before bed, like the Certain Dri.  

AH HA!

I have some friends who also tried this, and they discovered that if you put it on in the morning, like regular deodorant (or whenever you put on your deodorant), it works so much better than applying it at night.  I recently ran out of this and have been using regular anti-perspirant/deodorant and I have not been sweating excessively.  

There you have it, friends.  My secret to smelling great and being confident when raising my hand.  At least until this stops working and I start pouring sweat again.  In like, May.  

a dream, a freaky freaky dream

I had a dream last night that was very strange and upsetting.

I often have very odd dreams involving the people around me, some that manifest in real life in similar yet altered ways.  I'm hoping that if anything happens with this one, it is nothing like the dream. 

I dreamt that I was in bed, when a man came in my room (a stranger to me, but in my dream, I knew him well), sat next to my bed, and told me that my neighbor, Matt, had died.  I started crying, I was very upset, and what happened after that is hazy.  However, the next few parts, are very clear.

-REMEMBER, THIS IS ALL STILL PART OF MY DREAM-

Parker, my brother, told me that Andrew, Matt's roommate, had also died.  He was with his girlfriend (which is weird, because she is in Athens this weekend) in her car and they were in an accident.  I was upset, crying, thinking if I could keep the puppy he just adopted.  

THEN

I walked outside, and there they both were, Matt and Andrew, standing on the porch.  I was elated, until I realized that they were ghosts.  They looked completely normal, just like they do in real life.  I kept asking what was going on, and they assured me that they were dead, but would be sticking around for a while. I kept thinking "boy, that apartment is going to get crowded when new people move in".  Then Andrew asked me to go somewhere with him.

He got in A car (his car in the dream, not his car in real life) and we started driving.  I asked where we were going.  His first response was "Atlanta", which was a little daunting, a dead guy driving through Atlanta?  But we ended up just going to a grocery store, a Harris Teeter, which is funny, you know, 'cause that chain is "dead".  I kept asking if this was all a joke, if he were actually still alive.  He tried showing me that he could put his hand through me, but that didn't work, so he asked me to try and find his pulse, to prove that he didn't have one.  Before I could, we were all of the sudden at some like water park/river/obstacle course.  He made me lead him through it.  I think I was walking along some concrete barrier and snakes kept appearing on it, but slithering out of my way as soon as I got close ( I don't know what the hell that means).  Once we accomplished that, we were at some singles-type party, but there were adults there of all ages, races, etc.  There were quite a few midgets there too, some that were twins.  We went inside the building and all of the sudden, Andrew disappeared.  I soon found his cell phone in my bag, which had somehow taken pictures of text messages on my phone (wtf).  Eventually, I wondered around long enough (without asking anyone "have any of you seen a dead guy?  About 6'4"?)  Then we ended up back in his car and drove back to the apartment.  I asked him something like "What happens now?"  His response?  "I'll be around."

-CUT TO REAL LIFE-

Today is Andrew's birthday. 

I have to stop eating so much sugar. 

 

and all that jazz

I have nothing of note to say, really.  

I went to Thai Spoon last night with Chelsea and Charles.  It was oh so good this time.  Vanessa called during dinner to tell me that she started reading my blog and really enjoys it (thanks, Vanessa!)  I then went to Borders to listen to bluegrass and look for the newest issue of Paste, D.C. Matt recommended.  He told he it had a CD in it like the last issue I bought.  I went and looked through all the copies they had, not one had a CD.  I even asked the cashier, thinking maybe they would give them out as people bought them.  She did not know anything about the magazine.  I was also this whole time trying to avoid eye contact with the guitarist from one of Wyatt's bands, hoping he would not recognize me or my "why the hell are you playing the guitar like that" face.  I bought the latest In Style (only because I felt bad for asking the cashier a question and then just leaving-I cannot tell you how many guilt purchases I have made) and went to Barnes and Noble, where I bought my first issue of Paste, with a CD. 

I got there and looked through their copies, NO CD.  Wtf.  Finally, as I should have done 30 minutes previously, I read through the section with the music sampler.  

It includes a code to download the sampler online.

Oops.  

I also ended up buying a book called Flapper.  That whole era of the wild girl whathaveyou really intrigues me.  

I also skipped my afternoon classes today.  Because it was raining.  

I will probably skip Italian tomorrow too.  Because it will be raining.  And Professoressa drives me insane.  

BUT TOMORROW NIGHT I AM GOING DANCING AGAIN AND I SO CANNOT WAIT RAIN OR MOONSHINE.  

Have a good day.

voltage running through her skin

I had like THE best weekend ever.  

Ajyra's roommate Maddie had her birthday party at Go Bar on Saturday night and....

IT HAD A THEME.

I am a sucker for any function that is themed, and this one did not disappoint.  The theme was a video, "Electric Feel" by MGMT, which if you have never heard the song, please oh please listen to it NOW.  Along with that, you could incorporate themes from the movie Hook.  So...

I wore a feathered headdress and painted a big strip of blue and pink across my eyes.  I wore a plaid shirt, black pants and silver heels.  And motorcycle gloves.  

I am a badass.

It took about an hour for the party to really get started, but once it did, oh man, it was intense.  I danced like I have never danced before.  The music, the people, everything was just so perfect and fun.  

Electric. 

this makes me want to eat a cheeseburger

No seriously, this is one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen.

http://ca.askmen.com/top_10/dating/top-10-subtle-ways-to-tell-her-shes-getting-fat_10.html

color me angry

I know it has been a while since I last posted, I apologize.  I can't help it if I'm totally popular and have been busy every night this week.  Well, really just Wednesday and last night, Monday and Tuesday were spent doing homework and right now I am in bed, as I have been since around 7pm.  So I'm really not popular, just busy.  I did spend last weekend in Atlanta, Wednesday I spent with some old friends and one marginally attractive new friend and last night I had a fun night with my Chelsea and my neighbors.  But let me tell you why I'm angry.

First let say that the last time I posted, I asked for suggestions on my best post.  You know who responded?  ONE person.  And thank you, Leah, for your ever diligent willingness to give me feedback, I cannot tell you how appreciative I am.  And to the rest of you who read it and have been reading this, thanks a lot.  Sarcastically.  

On Tuesday, I awoke to discover that my kitchen sink was not working.  Water was not draining, which I believe was caused by a large amount of greasy food put down the sink.  You can guess who did that.  Anyway, I tried and tried to get it fixed and could not on my own.  I called my landlady on Wednesday and she didn't really say it would be fixed, just thanks for telling her there was a problem.  Dammit.  Thursday between classes, when the sink was still clogged, I had cereal for lunch.  Not knowing when I would eat dinner, I decided to have a second bowl of cereal before my next class.  There were two bottles of milk in the fridge, one was mine, which was good and one was Parker's that was very much expired.  I was not paying attention and I grabbed the first one I saw and poured it over my heaping bowl of cereal.  When I was putting the milk back, I noticed that I got it from the front of the shelf, not the back.  I had poured rancid milk over my cereal.  Not being able to put the waste down the sink like I normally would have done, I walked out my front door and poured the cereal next to the bushes next to the porch railing.  I guess that is kind of trashy, but I didn't think much of it.  As I was leaving for my class, the plumber showed up and when I got home, it was fixed.  

I have been so tired all day.  I went to Italian and then work and FINALLY, I got to come home.  Neighbor Andrew's girlfriend Ashley came up from Savannah for the weekend, and she brought her cute little dog, Marla.  Also in dog news, Matt and Andrew adopted the cutest little puppy and brought him home today.  He is some sort of pit bull mix (we think) and has blue eyes!  Oh so cute.  I didn't play much with them when I got home, but hope to soon.  Anyway, the anger.  

Neighbor Matt sends me a text that says "You have now made two dogs sick with your cheerios.  You might consider doing something about that".  

Expletive.   Expletive.  Expletive.  

My response was, "Maybe you should prevent the dogs from eating them".  Maybe a little immature, but it really pissed me off.  

He said something about having to then micromanage the dogs even more than they already are having to.

  Ok.

#1  YOU JUST BROUGHT HOME A MONTH OLD PUPPY YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO LOOK AFTER IT.  That made me furious.  Sure, I put food outside.  But I think any fool knows that DOGS TRY AND EAT THINGS THEY FIND ON THE GROUND.  Cheerios are probably the LAST thing he should be worried about.   

#2  I wonder if the excitement of being a new environment could, I don't know, make a dog feel ill?

#3  How in the hell are cheerios going to make a dog sick?  THEY EAT OTHER DOGS POOP.  WASTE.  I don't think some oats will make them sick.  

#4  The boys have had that dog a few hours and are already blaming someone else for the behavior of their dog?  

Like I said, I have been super tired all day and consequently have been in a bad mood, all day.  I have not wanted to talk to other people, look at other people.  And I certainly don't want to be blamed for a puppy's upset stomach.  

Grr. Argh.  

simply the best

Hello my friends that follow my blog, and any strangers that follow it as well.  I've been thinking a lot lately about how one day I really want to write a book, and I've done a good job so far of documenting my life, so I have plenty of material.  I do feel that I need to increase my blog readership A. because I'm kind of vain and want people to tell me how funny and I am and B. because it would only help my book-writing situation.  

What I am asking of you, then, is to tell me which of my postings you think is the best.  I'm going to post it as a note on facebook.  If you recall, the last time I did that, I got a HUGE response. Granted, it was about the election and EVERYONE has a damn opinion about politics, and fewer people have an opinion about my life; however, I think if I post it on facebook, more people will see it, more people will read this, one day I'll be Carrie Bradshaw etc etc.  SO, if you could, please comment here which post you liked the most.  I would really appreciate it.  

PS I'm going to hotlanta this weekend with Chelsea to spend some time with our friend-turned-grown up Kendra.  I hope we will do something worth mentioning here.  We usually do something ridiculous OR we just sit around and do nothing.  I'll let you know what happens.  

take me to the river

I have a 1 1/2 year old black lab puppy.  I use the word "have" loosely.  I acquired her, but she now lives with my mother after a heated custody battle.  However, it is in the best interest of said puppy that she live in a large house with people who can constantly pay attention to her instead of with a college student.  This is my Dagny, just under a year ago: 

I made a deal with my mother that yesterday, I could have Dagny for the day.  I picked her up and we set off.  

First, we took a stroll through the intramural trails.  She seemed to quite enjoy that, but I had to keep her on her leash, which I don't think she appreciated.  

After the trails, we came home and took a nap.  Nothing says leisure like a nap right before lunch. 

We got up, ate lunch, let Neighbor Matt put his glasses on Dagny and exclaim how smart she was, and headed to one of our favorite spots.  The river.  I'm not really sure what river it is, it is on the east side, less than half a mile from where I used to live.  There is a handy walking trail right next to the water and it is quite lovely.  I used to take her there often when she lived with me, and we had a lot of fun there together.  As soon as we get to a certain point, far enough away from the road, I let her off her leash to run and jump in the river as she likes.  There is one spot that I really like, where a tree has fallen out over the water.  I like to go there and sit while she swims.  Near the tree, there is a large rock, in the middle of the river.  A large portion of it is above the water and ever since the first time I saw that rock, I wanted to conquer it.  I knew today would be the day.

In my thin cotton sundress (really not appropriate attire for traipsing through the woods and/or a river),  I first stepped in and sat on the tree.  I then swung my legs over the trunk and cautiously felt the rocks beneath my bare feet.  It took a while to get through the water that way, finding good footing before each step.  I walked over rocks and sand and algae and finally, I made it to my rock.  I immediately lay down on the rock, stretching my whole body out.  It felt so exhilarating.  There I was, just me and my dog, on top of the rushing water, basking in the spring sun.  Granted, there was a bridge visible from where we were basking, and I was worried that my reflective-pale skin would blind the drivers, or that they would think I was a corpse washed upon the rocks.  With a dog.  Anyway, it was a beautiful moment.  It felt so good to just be there, in nature.  I didn't want to leave.  

But I soon realized that I was in the direct sunlight, not wearing all that much and my poor pale skin was probably roasting.  And it was, I have a strange looking sunburn on my chest, arms and legs.  

Exhausted from our play together, Dagny and I drove back to Danielsville.  We parted ways and I was so happy to have spent the day with such a beautiful and loving animal.   

are you that singer girl?

What a crazy last couple of days it has been.  Friday morning I had an Italian test, and after that, it was non-stop party.  And by "party" I mean doing whatever I want instead of studying.  Which, come to think of it, is kind of what I do all the time.  Oops.  

Friday night, I went out with my friends Charles and Chelsea.  We had dinner at Clocked.  Oh. My. Gosh.  I have not had a cheeseburger that good since...I don't know when.  We then went to Flicker, where they had no popcorn and the chairs were uncomfortable, but all of that was made up for by some very cute boys playing some fun songs. 

Saturday, I did very little.  I rented a bunch of movies, ate cheesecake and then watched lots of Seinfeld.  I then went to Neighbor Matt's to play Apples to Apples and we then went to see Watchmen.  Now, I am probably the least nerdy out of this circle of my friends, and I'm not saying that as some sort of superlative, just stating an attribute.  That being said, I LOVED THAT MOVIE.  It was beautiful.  Visually.  It was very violent and there were some kind of awkward/I'mnotsureiftheyweresupposedtobethiswaybut comical love scenes.  Overall, a good film.  Daylight savings time hit and I didn't end up going to bed until after 4am.  

Woke up Sunday at almost 1pm.  Yikes.  I got up, did some cleaning.  Mom asked if I wanted to go to her house for pot roast.  Um...yes!  It was sooooo good.  Like so so so good.  I can't even describe it.  

Today, though, I had to work.  At our sister store, Off Campus.  Which I always feel tense in, like everything I'm doing is wrong.  Oh well, work today is done and I only have tomorrow and then the rest of the week off.  

Is it just me, or does anyone else really hate those pictures on Facebook with all the cartoon characters with labels like "the smart one" and "the rebel"?  I get irritated every time I log on and see a new one.  Thankfully, no one has tagged me in one yet.  I would have to be labeled as "the bitchy one" after they did.  

If I wasn't labeled that already.  

are the bangs shorter?

I only have seven minutes to make my Wednesday deadline....

I got a lovely haircut today.  I went with the bang look again.  I tried taking pictures, but I mostly look weird or bald.  But I am happy with it.  Finally, bangs done by a professional.  Not in a bathroom and not with craft scissors.  Le sigh.

Also, I just returned from seeing The Reader.  One of the most beautiful and heart-wrenching films I have seen.  Simply beautiful.  Maybe I will one day get sick on someone's staircase and then have a summer affair with them until they run off to join the Nazi party and I don't find out about it until I'm in law school but my lover won't admit that they cannot read or write...but that is not likely to happen.  Like I would get into law school.  

the woods are lovely, dark and deep

OF COURSE I have to post about the March snowstorm of 2009.  First day of March and what do we get?  Several inches of snow.  My heart was all a flutter when the rain started turning into snow, with the prospect of the light dusting we usually get if it snows.  

And it just kept snowing.

I live kind of in front of the intramural trails, and they are lovely any time of year, but one day as I was walking them I thought, "If it ever snows, this is the first place I am coming".  I bundled up (as best I could...I quickly realized I'm really not prepared for this kind of weather) and headed to the woods.  It was breathtaking.  What is it about snow that makes everything beautiful?  

Those are just a couple of my (poor quality) pictures I took.  All of them are on Facebook, if you're interested.  I'm about to go to Danielsville to spend the day with my family, and will probably take more there.  

Oh and to mention food....

We had now power between 4pm and sometime before 5am this morning.  I had a peanut butter sandwich and some cheese its for dinner last night.  Yep.  Was not happy about that.  BUT, I had that meal while playing Apples to Apples with my neighbors.  By candle light.  : ]

stumble & bramble

As you may recall, I purchased for myself a lovely ring for Valentine's Day.  Also for V day I decided to splurge on some hair care.  I bought for myself some bumble and bumble shampoo, conditioner and styling creme.  

And I hate it.  

It makes my hair feel sticky and gross.  It looks pretty good, but it feels awful.  I much prefer my $3 bottle of anythingotherthanthis.  

My reason for posting, however, is to see if anyone wants to buy this stuff off of me.  I know, I know, I just spent three sentences describing how much I hate it.  But let me say this-bumble and bumble is a great product.  Just not for me.  Why am I trying to sell it instead of giving it away?  This stuff is expensive.  For me, anyway. $20 a bottle.  SO....

shampoo $10

conditioner $10

styling creme $10

Or make me a better offer.  The bottles are like 7/8 full and there is probably a year's worth of styling creme left in that tiny bottle.  If you want more information on these particular products, you can visit bumbleandbumble.com

 How tacky is this?  Very.  Somebody buy this stuff before I'm forced to shave my legs with it.  

barf

Ok, I couldn't let this slip past.  I want anyone who reads my blog to read this article. Just like that ad I mentioned earlier today, this sort of thing really pisses me off.  Not the article, the article is well done, but the subject of the article.  Contests?  To see who can be the skinniest?  Who can eat the least?   

Grrr.  

The very first girl mentioned is 15.  FIFTEEN.  Dammit, these girls keep getting younger and younger.  You know, I had to work for several years to not hate myself because I wasn't tall and skinny and it was so hard.  It took a lot of work.  But all I can think about is my little sister.  I don't want her to feel that this is acceptable, I don't want her to ever think that she needs to torture her body to be beautiful.  It breaks my heart to think that someone I love might feel this way, and it scares me to read articles like this because it could totally happen.  Please, if you suspect that someone you know is suffering from this, talk to them.  And please don't continue or support a dialogue that reinforces this behavior.  

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/04/02/fashion/sundaystyles/02BREAK.html?_r=1&scp=2&sq=anorexia&st=cse

PS I just noticed that this article was written in 2006.  I'd like to see some statistics for 2009.  

wtf prevage?

I was flipping through the March issue of In Style yesterday when I came upon an ad for Prevage "total transforming anti-aging moisturizer".  I've seen ads for this brand of product before, but nothing like this.  I'm sorry, I looked for a picture of the ad but couldn't find one to put on here, so I will describe it to you.  

IT IS A PICTURE OF A MANNEQUIN.  

At first, I thought it was a nude woman.  BUT NO, it is a mannequin.  

Ok, I almost went on a tirade at work yesterday, but wanted to keep my composure in front of customers.  But let me just say that THIS PISSES ME OFF.  

First, ads had pictures of ideal women trying to sell a product.  Then, ads had ideal women with lots of makeup on to try and sell a product.  THEN, ads had ideal women with lots of makeup and hair and computer enhancements made  trying to sell a product.  The point of all of this?  "Buy this product and you can look like me! (i.e. ideal)".  What is the problem with this method of advertising?

THESE ARE NOT ACTUAL WOMEN.  

Ok, maybe they used to be, but today, the images we see are a construct of feminine looking body parts pasted together to look convincingly like one, complete PACKAGE.  This is a problem because women and girls see these images, purported as ideal, and want to look like them.  However, they cannot look like them because it is not an image of a real woman, it is a fabrication.  And that really, really makes me angry.  

So imagine my anger when I open to an ad WITH A FAKE WOMAN.  Prevage has bypassed the airbrushing and photoshopping in favor of a mannequin.  Why is this a problem?  Because this is not a real woman.  You cannot look like her.  Your skin will never be as smooth as that of a mannequin.  But prevage will get you pretty damn close.    

Aside from giving women yet another reason to hate their real bodies, this is just poor advertising.  Yes, the skin of a mannequin is SMOOTH, but it is also HARD.  I guess they were going for the firming aspect, but no one wants hard, plastic skin.  Does anyone want to actually look like a mannequin?  Well, I can think of one person:

But I digress.  

I don't feel as though I have fully articulated my anger and disgust.  Just know that I am hella mad about this ad and ones like it.  And please do not buy this product.  You don't want to look like posh spice, do you?  

 

is this your lunch?

I was sick like all last week.  Gross.  I didn't go grocery shopping last week since my eating was kind of sporadic.  Thursday rolled around and I really didn't have any food to eat for lunch.  I had some pop tarts.  I only really like s'mores pop tarts, but I won't eat them unless I have a diet coke too.  

They taste better that way.  

But I didn't have any diet coke in my apartment.  I decided that I would run to the gas station near my house to get a can of coke for lunch.  While walking to my car, I saw an empty doritos bag.  Cooler ranch, my favorite.  I then decided that my perfect lunch would include s'mores pop tarts, cooler ranch doritos and a diet coke.  I then headed to my destination.  

Ok, let me say here that last Thursday was like super windy.  My hair was blowing all over the place.  AND I was recovering from my weird cold thing; so I probably didn't look my BEST, but I didn't think I looked bad.  Ok, back to the story.

I went in to the gas station, got my diet coke and chips, and went to the cashier.  

Hello, how are you, fine thanks, blah blah

He then says to me, "Are you sick?"

Wtf, dude?  Did he not realize that by saying those words to me, he said to me "YOU LOOK AWFUL!"  

I just kind of laughed and said something stupid like "Yeah, I've been sick for about a week now..."

"Oh yeah, everyone is sick now...cough...fever..."

"Yep."

pause...and I think I am done with awkward conversation....

"Is this your lunch?"

DAMMIT!  How did he know??  Was it the sweat pants?  Or the mussed hair?  I felt more defeated than anything-was my purpose so clear to him?  I could sense the judgement in his voice...so I quickly had to come up with a response...

"Oh, no, just a quick snack between classes."

"Oh, of course.  I hope you feel better before the weekend."

(I think it is cute that he hoped I felt better before the weekend-anyone wearing sweat pants in the middle of the day that is suspected of having doritos and coke for lunch probably does not have a big weekend planned.  Jerk.)

what white teeth you have

Sorry this is late, guys.  I had a crazy busy day yesterday.  

After I graduated high school, I kind of became obsessed with having white teeth.  Ok maybe not obsessed as I did not stem my cola consumption nor did I increase the number of times I brushed my teeth, but I did only buy whitening toothpaste, and soon moved on to white strips.  I have only used the kind that you put on your teeth for 30 minutes for like 2 weeks, I've used the Crest kind and the Target brand version of the same product.  Both were easy to use and had good results.  Since then, I've done a pretty good job of keeping up with keeping my teeth white. 

I have also found a toothpaste that I LOVE.  I read a review of it in Bust magazine and had to try it and I love love love it.  

Elgydium, French toothpaste.  The only problem is I cannot find it anywhere in a store, so I had to order it from drugstore.com.  Totally worth it.  Smile!

I believe I can fly

I was trying to figure out a format for my blog and I had narrowed it down to this: 

Mondays-food related

Fridays-products I liked

But what to do about Wednesday?  I consulted my friend Leah after she mentioned my blog, and she really likes it when I talk about things I don't like.  Another blog I like is feministing.com and they have what they call "Friday Feminist F$@* You", so I could have "WTF Wednesday".  As I couldn't really think of something I really hated today (except being sick-ish still) and I didn't think Leah would approve of my use of the phrase "WTF", I decided to blog about something else.

I grew up in a very small town with very small people.  Many of them had been in Danielsville most of their life and they were content with what they had.  The thought of this terrified me.  It wasn't until late highschool/college that I realized that I do not have to live that way.  Thank goodness.  I plan on exploring the world around me and all that it has to offer, and developing many talents.  Today, world, I share with you my life goals that I have come up with thus far.  

#1 Speak the following languages fluently: 

-Italian

-French

-Spanish

#2 Visit all seven continents (yes, including Antarctica)

#3 Own a great piece of art

#4 Create something beautiful

#5 Learn to play the piano

#6 Learn to play the violin

#7 Learn to sail

#8 Own horses and know how to ride

#9 Take a drawing class

#10 Take a painting class

#11 Go skydiving 

That is really all I have come up with so far.  Some of them will be much easier to achieve.  I'm on my way to speaking Italian, which will make learning Spanish easy, and I have a (vague) background in French.  I've been to one continent, so that's a good start.  All of the "learn to"s may have to wait until I have a real job with real money so I can take real classes.  I can take a drawing class while I'm still in school.  Someday I can do all of these things, and much more.  It will be fun.  

get down with the sickness

Every person around me is sick.  Someone's throat hurts, someone's nose is runny.  Everyone is ailing.  Including me.  It began last Thursday with an innocent lil cough, which quickly turned into a big cough.  I felt better Saturday, and then felt fever-ish Saturday night (maybe because it was Valentine's Day...) and lay in bed sick all day Sunday.  While I was laying in bed sick all day Sunday, I was constantly drinking something.  Water, orange juice, water, tea, water.  All day.  Which did have a positive effect, it liquified all of the snot in my body.  All of it.  Which is now pouring out of my body at a fairly constant rate.  Enough even to warrant the use of a handkerchief today, which made me feel first kind of distinguished because I was using a handkerchief and then made me feel disgusting because I was basically wallowing in my snot all day.  

I had thought that every Monday I would blog what I ate that day, as that got a lot of response the last time I did it.  So here is what I ingested today:

water

tea

water

tea

juice

water

water

water

water 

crackers

tea

water

Ok, that is kind of exaggerating.  I did have tuna for lunch.  But I am pretty sure I had more liquid today than solid.  I am so tired of constantly blowing my nose, I wish this would stop.  

Is this gross, y'all?  Sorry if it is.  Love you, mean it.  

witchy woman

One day, I was sitting in Italian, talking with another girl in my class.  As I was talking to her, she was staring quite intently at my face and as soon as I stopped talking, she breathed, "You have like perfect skin.  What do you use?"

I explained to her that my skin did not clear up until I was about 22 and that it took a strong cocktail of proactive and birth control to get to this point.  

Now that my skin has stopped revolting, I am able to use products that I like.  I love Aveeno and Khiels.  One of my favorite products, though, is something that I came across last fall and had not heard of before and I LOVE IT.  

I bought this at a little boutique in Comer, Georgia (which has since moved to Ila, Georgia), but Earthfare also carries a couple of their products.  This witch hazel is so...refreshing.  I don't know how else to describe it.  Everyone should try it.  Earthfare doesn't have the lavender, but they do have the rose petal, which is also very nice.  What better way to boost the economy than to support small business and have great looking (and feeling!) skin?  Go get some.

lesson learned

One of my neighbors is very sick.  No, not the one who refused to go to Applebee's with me.  The other Matt that lives next door.  He has been in and out of the hospital since sometime late last semester.  He is now in ICU and is not expected to live much longer.  His condition is the result of an infection after a surgery, which then led to the failure of several body systems.  His options have come down to a decision on if he wants to die in hospice care or with his family.  

It is a very sad situation.  However, I didn't know him very well, so I can really only offer support to my other neighbor Matt who is pretty upset.  Therein lies the lesson to be learned.  I have lived next door to this man since September of 2008 and know almost nothing about him.  All I know is that he cooks well and plays the piano beautifully.  He would often cook things and bring them to Parker and me, and sometimes, I could hear him playing the piano if my apartment was quiet. And he has a little chihuahua named Dylan.  That is really all I know about this young man who now lays dying.  What effort on my part would it have taken to stop and chat more when I would find him sitting outside?  Why didn't I invite him over for dinner?  Why don't I take the time to know the people around me?  

Cliche as this all may sound, this situation has been a real kind of shock for me.  Not necessarily about the dire circumstances of this man's health, but more of my own reclusiveness, if that's even applicable.  I didn't take the time to get to know the person living ten feet away from me, and now the chances of me getting to know him are almost zero.  May I in the future be more friendly and reach out to those close to me.  I can only pray now that his pain will be little and that his family will find comfort.  

male monday

That is supposed to be pronounced "mall-ay", as in bad.  Not male.  Monday did not directly involve any males.

What a suck day.  My back has been KILLING me for almost a week now and today was no exception.  I went to Italian, which was fine.  After that, I went to eat my lunch before my ecology lab.  I make myself eat tuna for lunch on Mondays, 'cause you know, it's good for you, but I always feel kind of like a jerk for eating it in a public setting.  I personally have grown not to HATE the smell of tuna like I used to, but I'm sure others do not feel the same way.  Eating tuna on the second floor of the SLC at one of the study tables just feels so mean.  I looked for a seat in the Jittery Joe's section, nothing.  I then looked for a study room, that would trap in the smell.  Nothing, just a bunch of jerks who were in the rooms alone.  So I sat and ate my pungent lunch across from a young man studying.  Le sigh. 

Then, I spent the next two hours at a water treatment plant.  I was in WASTE for TWO HOURS.   Granted, I did spend oh....one hour and 53 minutes fantasizing about my ecology TA, but we were still surrounded by crap.  Ick.

-Brief respite from suck day between lab and work when I came home and took a nap-

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I got some heat sticky things for my back and large amounts of processed sugar and went to work.  Which wasn't all that bad.  All I could think about though was how bad I wanted to go to Applebee's after work for dinner.

Let me say something here.  I really don't like Applebee's, or places like unto it.  However, due to the joys of advertising, I saw a commercial for some steak deal they were having and just had to go and eat steak.  It looked so good.  So I asked my neighbor if he would go with me, as he is out of my 4 friends the one who is not a vegetarian.   We made kind of a standing date to go, whenever both of us had the time or the money.  

I texted him earlier in the day and asked if he would want to go. He said maybe, and I saw him after lab and he said he would let me know.  I sent him another text around 7pm all but begging him to go with me, as it had been a bad day and all I wanted was cow.  His response?

I already made dinner plans.

Wtf?  I thought WE made dinner plans.  It made me irrationally angry.  So here I sit, hungry and in pain, with a long list of things to get done.  I think I'm just going to order some pizza and watch The Mummy instead of doing any of it.  Blech.  

Could be an organ donor the way I give up my heart

I hate Valentine's Day.  Like, I really hate it.  I have for quite some time.  Like, my senior year of high school, my friends and I developed this "Anti-Valentine Warrior" thing and made signs and everything.  Some may say that as a feminist, I shouldn't be worried about something as silly as a holiday like this, that being single is totally cool and I should not let this DAY OF REMINDER get me down.  But ohhh it does.  I tend to get sad and boo-hoo and gorge myself for pretty much a week.  I would like to say that as I have aged, that I have (hopefully) gotten more mature.

I have not.  

Instead, I have taken to purchasing for myself gifts.  As there is no "man in my life" to buy me things (isn't that what a man is for?), I just buy things on my own.   This Valentine's Day, I bought myself this pretty little something.

I bought it from skinnystyle.com and I cannot wait to get it in the mail.  

You should all listen to Andre 3000's Happy Valentine's Day.  It adequately sums up my feelings about February 14.  

my nail beds suck

First of all, I am never mentioning my diet coke consumption ever again.  

Sunday morning, my older brother/roommate got super drunk and decided that he needed to talk to me for several hours about his ex-girlfriend, the moon, the Joker, magic, the Joker and drugs.  Once I kicked him out of my room, I finished drying my hair and had to leave the apartment before I broke something of his in a fit of rage.  As I couldn't get in touch with my family to see if there were home, I decided to pass my time at Target.  Sam wanted some pants for his birthday, I wanted to look at throw pillows and lip gloss, etc etc.  I got Sammy's pants (only after very detailed instructions from him as I realized I know nothing about how to shop for men's clothing) and wandered around the store after prying from my hands several scarves, bags and sandals.  I then thought that maybe some new hair accessories would brighten my day.  

I walked to the hair accessory aisle and saw what appeared to be a family.  A man, a woman, and what looked like three 8-9 year old girls.  I was looking around, trying my best to ignore them, when I saw that the group of young girls were all crowded around those hand held mirrors.  I then heard the following exchange: 

"Ohmygosh, look at my eyebrows.  I totally have a unibrow."

"No, will you look at my skin?  Ugh."

Just to be clear, this was coming from the LITTLE GIRLS, not the adults.  I have a very hard time keeping my thoughts to myself, because even if I am silent, my facial expressions have a tendency to rat me out.  By this time, I had fully turned my whole body to face this group of girls and was staring at them, mouth agape.  The girls did not see me, and neither did the adults, and I turned quickly on my heel and walked away.  

Now, if any of you have ever even mentioned anything remotely concerning women and body image issues, you have probably heard my 30 minute tirade about the subject.  I HAVE A BIG PROBLEM WITH IT.  I so wish we could live in a world where EVERY PERSON, male or female, could believe that they were beautiful.  I have listened to countless friends talk about how they wish they could change this or that about their bodies, but most of my friends are adults.  

THESE WERE CHILDREN.

Not teens, not even tweens, these were little girls, who should not need to worry about their looks past the point of have I brushed my hair in the last week and am I wearing shoes.  It makes me so sad to hear people my own age berate themselves, but little girls?  If we start hating ourselves at nine, what's next?