Back Fat

When I was in college - thinking I was journalism bound (Cs in my Intro class proved to convince me otherwise) I applied for an editorial position at the newspaper I eventually became a copy editor for. Phew! Did you get through that sentence? Anyways - my sample piece for the editorial application was about the women on campus not wearing the correct size of pants. Of anything, really. I didn't know that editorials had to be based on some sort of research so what I turned in was basically a large, hilariously ranting blog entry. I didn't even know what a blog was at that point. Wrong audience is what I'm saying. I wish I had it on this computer but I don't know where it went. All I remember for it is the phrase "Cascading back fat" and that everyone I showed it to thought it was really funny and really spot on because holy jesus people! Pull your two sizes too small jeans up and OVER the love handles, don't just pinch them out creating the well described muffin top!

Fast forward 6 years later and I'm at work la di da, doing my thing when Maris texts me "You would not BELIEVE the back fat spilling out of the girl's shirt in front of me."

I have to admit (because I am now older and gentler) my first thought was "oh come ON maris, it can't be that bad, stop being so judgmental!" I did. I had that thought. And I went about my busy food service, bakery ways. And then a few minutes later, that crafty maris sends me a picture text. I think my mouth actually hit the counter. I think the entire room heard my intake of breath. I'm pretty sure I started laughing immediately and not more than twenty seconds later went running to the back to show my co worker because ladies and gentlemen this is no ordinary back fat scenario.



My first response was "It's like a BREAST is attached to her back!" my next response "WHY DOESN'T SOMEONE TELL HER NEVER TO WEAR THAT SHIRT EVER AGAIN!"

I have been called insensitive and judgmental, yes. But sometimes you just have to laugh at the ridiculousness of life, the human body, and lumps of fat that resemble boobs on someone elses back. Otherwise, is life really worth living?

Granola Eating Hippy

Kamel has netflix. And with his subscription he gets the netflix streaming online thingy where you can watch movies and television shows that aren't the latest and greatest without waiting for them to arrive in the mail. You can also manage your account, etc. I routinely use his log in name to watch back episodes of 30 rock, random documentaries and Margaret Cho stand up... and then "accidentally" add movies and television shows to his queue. But that's beside the point. In the last month I have watched two documentaries that have drastically turned me into a tree hugging (i don't really like to touch nature), tie die wearing (lie), Birkenstock loving (not really, that's claire... and maris's boyfriend), wool sock knitting (me knit? Please), granola eating (Mmm...) hippy.

When I was in college everyone thought because I came from Seattle I was a full on member of greenpeace and peta and all CRAZY liberal (loving the gays, baby killing, etc). This was surprising to me because a) Isn't EVERYONE like that?! and b) I wasn't extreme in any way. I wasn't going to disrupt traffic to save a whale, is what I'm saying. And I'm still not going to. But here is what I have changed my tune about: I want to try and avoid having my future babies in a hospital if I can (meaning no drugs, no suctions, and no flat on my back deliveries), and I am no longer eating meat if I don't know exactly where it has come from.

A few weeks ago I watched the Business Of Being Born and I was expecting to make fun of it. I mean it has Ricki Lake in the credits for crying out loud. How silly is that? But then it turned out to be really balanced and to make a lot of sense as to why natural birth, home birth, and/or birthing centers work for some people, and in some cases are healthier ways of having babies. I believe in doctors, in check ups, in science and technology, but I also believe in trusting and listening to my body, in experiencing life in a spiritual way, and in doing what makes sense for you, the individual. Nothing drives me crazier than people who want to preach about what EVERYONE should be doing and the choices EVERYONE should be making. I'm never going to scream in your face that you should be eating organic, or riding your bike to work. But I do think everyone should be better educated so the choices they make are rooted somewhere besides "that's how everyone does it". Anyways, I never thought I would ever say I want anything but a sterile, ordinary labor/delivery experience. But I do. Also - if you could check back with me in ten years to see how that one worked out, that would be great. Seeing as I have no pregnancy in my immediate future.

The other documentary that had me writhing with anxiety over the ammonia additives being blended into 80% of the hamburger sold in the United States = Food Inc. (Which is actually nominated for an oscar this year. Hooray!) Bottom line is: Food is important. It keeps us alive, it can make us sick, it can kill us. Anyone sitting through a food handlers permit class knows this and rolls there eyes. It's not just about "Do not place your hands on ready to eat food!", it's about how our society is generating mass amounts of meat, poultry, and corn and how making food part of our industrialized society is hurting the individual. You'll have to watch it to get all the nitty gritty - and let me tell you this is not one of those graphic slaughterhouse movies. Lord knows I wouldn't go ten feet towards one. Bleck. And again, this is a personal choice. I don't mind paying more for animal products, I don't mind eating them less (actually - health wise we should all be eating less meat), and I will never ever be a vegetarian because I believe humans are supposed to eat meat, but I want to know where mine comes from, and I don't want it to come from a huge factory. I wrote a blog a few years ago about watching this guy at one of those walk up-mall type mexican places make my food. And how he was angrily and violently throwing my chicken and lettuce together and how I KNEW he didn't want to be there and I KNEW he hated his job, but um... excuse me, that's my food you are hating on, and could you at least be nice to it? And that's exactly how I feel about my choice to pay attention to where my meat products come from. I don't want to eat stuff that's treated badly.

And could this post get any more touchy feely? Gross. It's Superbowl Sunday! Now off to eat my weight in nachos.

Vomit

When I stop caring about a trend I always think the trend has died and then I am surprised when it's still around. What? I don't effect the ebb and flow of cosmic fads?! Shocking.

Anyhoo - I am editing this guys paper for a class at SU (and getting paid to do so waahooo!) and I enjoy multitasking while working so I was poking around at the internet and thought hey! I haven't read postsecret in AGES are people still doing that?? And lo and behold they are. I was of course shocked. I have two of that guys books but I'm kind of over it. Secrets on a postcard - it's been done, no? And really, there isn't much to say about that except when I saw this secret:


and I wanted to hurl.

Ok here is the best case scenario where I look like a jackass. Deserved = past tense so let's say this relationship didn't work out for said writer. Ok. Still pukey. Then let's say the other person died. Tragic. I like it. Pain makes good art. But what? You're going to spend an entire writing career writing about your failed (either tragically or normally) relationship over and over again? Vomit. Also - who just up and decides to become a writer. That burden is BESTOWED upon you, my friend. It's generally not really a choice. Even if you ignore it, the writing just kind of eeks out of you.

So yes. Bleck. Sappy crap. I knew there was a reason I stopped reading that site.

The Frailty of Man

Kamel as been bitching about a really really bad sore throat for .... mmm ... at least 5 days now? Possibly more, but let's be honest at a certain point I just tune him out, ok? So yesterday when he was still complaining and the advil wasn't working I say "I bet you have strep throat. Go look in the mirror at the back of your throat and if it looks like cottage cheese you'll know."

How is it that all the women I know have some sort of medical knowledge? This has to be passed down from the midwife traidtion. Or when doctors were so scarce they couldn't be counted on for anything but the nearly dead. My other rhetorical question is how do men not know any of this shit? For reals. Without a mother or a wife or a sister (and aside from the obvious birthing, feeding, and general caring for before the age where you're tall enough to reach for food) men would shrivel up and die before they're thirty.

Back to my story: Kamel comes back from the bathroom proclaiming his throat generally pink and creepy looking, like something you'd see on Grey's Anatomy. I am skeptical but then I put his complaints back under the category of "Whining" and move on. I tell him he should call the doctor and maybe he can get a perscription for these little pearl capsules that numb you so you can swallow and eat again. So he calls and the fine (ass hole-y) people at kaiser tell him even if he has strep, it can go away on it's own and they don't want to over medicate him and the only thing he would get is a prescription for IB Profen so stay home and stop complaining. He later confesses to me that right before he called the Dr. he had the irrational fear it might be throat cancer, which in turn reminds me so much of my father I have to laugh and call him crazy on repeat. When I tell claire this portion of the story she reminds me that I am always thinking I am pregnant or have aids so really I have no room to point fingers. Touche, roomate, touche.

But then this morning I guess poor bunny Kamel wakes up with searing throat pain so he immediately calls the kaiser of doom and gets an appointment for 10am. I text him and remind him to ask for the numbing pills. I guess when the lady with the flashlight finally looked into his throat she made a face that said "HOLY SHIT!" and said "woah that is very severe. You must be in incredible pain." This is where I don't feel bad because 1) apparently boys* don't know where the back of their throats are 2) if he was in severe pain, which he says he was, why didn't he demand to see a dr.? And why did the medical people badger him into not coming in? This seems ridiculous to me. and finally 3) He should have just gone when i told him to go yesterday. So this is my I told you so moment.

He is now armed with numbing spray, antibiotics to take three times a day, and a pending prescription for vicodin if he so chooses. That's some intense strep. He also was told not to go to work until wednesday because he is "highly contagious" or "radioactive" as he put it. This is where the distance between San Francisco and Seattle works in my favor.

And i actually do feel bad because sore throats suck. And even now I'm swallowing and it reminds me of when I've had them and I wince simply from the memory.

*Also, yes, I know I'm totally generalizing. But seriously - I have a wealth of general everyday medical knowledge passed down to me from my exceptionally smart mother and these. Do boys simply not absorb this knowledge? Do they tune it out? Do mothers bestow this only upon daughters? What's the sitch?

Also - another story: One time when I was 14 my dad told me that I could still go swimming when I had my period without a pad or a tampon because the pressure of the water would keep the period from leaking out. I was adamantly against this so called "truth" he was speaking and of course ran and told my mom. Where do boys get this stuff? I mean it's funny, but eventually somebody has to tell them the facts of life. No?

Obama-rama

I debated writing about this because I generally like to keep things fluffy - even when I'm serious it's often with a wink and a nod. But I find myself more and more annoyed with the constant chatter about how little Obama has done in his first year as president. There are a lot of people all over the news, in polls, in the grocery store, wherever - that are constantly discussing how little our president has accomplished. Where is the man from the campaign? Mr. "I'm gonna fix the world" Mr. "I ran on a campaign of hope and nothing else"! Blahblahblah. Ok seriously? No politician does everything they say on the campaign trial, none of the people running for president are privy to all the security/military goings on that the current president is. They can talk about their platforms and their views and their goals and then we the people vote based on who we think has the best chance of actually reaching those goals which probably have something to do with our own political/social/(god forbid)religious vision. Does that make sense? It's a lot of hoping and crossing fingers that the people picked the best person. It's never a for sure thing and no leader is ever going to be perfect or 100% efficient.

Here's the deal with Obama:
1) He is not a dictator. He cannot run into the white house, wave a magic wand, and poof his will be done.

2) He was handed a shitty economy and a war. A war he most likely didn't have all the intel on until he became president. So yes, he wants to pull out of Iraq, that's where he stands, but I'm going to trust that dude has more information than me on Afghanistan, etc. And that he probably doesn't even want to be in this conflict - based on what I know of his platform, etc - so I am actually (This time, for the moment) going to trust that maybe he knows something I don't. And I do actually think that he's not so much of a shithead to want to kill thousands of people (soldiers and civilians getting in the way of an IED and the like) for his own personal gain.

3) If you didn't know this already, let me inform you - Obama is a Constitutionalists. He actually takes great stock in the way our country runs and he doesn't want to fuck with it. He is methodical and careful in his decisions. He may strive to be dynamic but he's going to do it within the parameters of our governing system. Our system doesn't act swiftly.

4) Healthcare is a large fish to fry. Fish may even be too small of a word for my metaphor is what I'm saying. If it doesn't work, it's a first step to bettering the quality of life for many American's. It also raised the quality of debate in this country (to quote West Wing). It got everyone talking about what they need from healthcare, from our government, who is screwing us over with healthcare, etc etc.

I'm on the moderate end of liberal and I don't think anyone is above criticism, but seriously? We're raking this guy over the coals after a year in office when the economy is on the slow mend, we haven't started any new wars (Afghanistan? My opinion is we should have been there in the first place), and the world loves us more than ever with Obama in office. So people have criticized him for not doing enough... what did George Dubya do to improve my life in any way? I'll take complaints over inactivity over robbing me of my personal liberties any day.

Kindle Dilemma

To Kindle or not to Kindle? That is the eternal question. I was very stoked about getting one for christmas, esp after seeing maris's and how neat it all seemed. And it's still neat and I will be using it, but not right now. Here is what I think the Kindle is good (great) for: Long plane rides - lots of books in a tiny carrier, travel in general (lots of books in a tiny carrier, hello pool side- just don't get it wet), and the future. Yes. The future. The unfeeling cold, metallic future!



Why the future and not now you say? Well, first - I have a stack of books that are yelling at me to be read. A stack. Of real life page to page with a cover made of paper stack of books. And in my impoverished state I cannot bring myself to spend money on other books. Although - thank you Regina for supplying me with an amazon gift card to wipe away those fears. But even with that money I feel overwhelmed with the amount of reading material demanding my attention. Ok so - this must be the transition phase, no? What every new Kindle owner goes through? The weird inbetween place where I have some old and some new and must finish the old to move on to the new. Except... the Kindle is a little impersonal. Every books looks the same. Every book smells the same. Every book feels the same. This is weird and unfamiliar. And what about the whole bit of walking into a book store and feeling the books? Reading the backs? Reading reviews from book shop people? I know you can do all of this at amazon.com but it's not the same. I don't like clicking on links and trying to navigate the site and not see the handwriting of who wrote what (because I judge reliability based on scroll alone sometimes) and something about the whole process just doesn't seem genuine.

But then again, ipods made music both easier and less hands on. And computers made communication easier and less hands on. But those things have revolutionized the way we live - some would say for the negative but the majority would say for the positive. And maybe we all just need some time to accept the future of books. The other thing is that maybe the publishing industry needs to shake things up a bit. Maybe book sales should be more reader to writer based and the needs for a third party should be diminished. Because although publishers do a great service with editing and marketing a book, they take a large amount of the profits. Could the kindle and the internet reduce those costs? Could they reduce the costs to the consumer - they already do. Like itunes with music, books on the kindle are cheaper. Would this increase readership? If books were easier to carry around and more accessible would more people read? I hope so. Although - the other aspect of books I am sad to see go - my ability to snoop on what other people are reading on the bus. With the Kindle there is no cover art and makes peaking over one's shoulder incredibly awkward.

Bus Scenario

I take the bus to and from work. I take it as much as I can because it's cheaper than dealing with my car (Gas, parking, etc). Thursday I get on the bus and it's packed so I head to the back where there are usually seats. I scan the seats. The reason I scan seats is because one time in San Francisco I almost sat in pee but thankfully this one lady warned me RIGHT before my butt touched the seat and then she - bless her heart - wiped it UP with a napkin she had in her purse. AMAZING. So - I scan seats. And on this particular bus ride before work in Seattle I was seat scanning and spotted a a large loogey on one of the seats. So I deftly avoided it and sat in the seat next to it. Sigh of relief inserted here.

But then here is where things get annoying. A dilemma began to surface. I was now the keeper of the loogey. Every time a person approached the back of the bus I was acutely aware of the seat that no one should be sitting in. The seat I had to warn them of. Now my bus ride was no longer a nice, relaxing reprieve before work, it was now full of stress and the possibility that someone might sit in a bundle of thick spit, ruin their pants before work and it would ALL BE MY FAULT. So I saved one guy from sitting there but he said he had seen it right at the last minute. So one down, infinite possibilities of people to go. Nothing happened for a few stops but then a large man wearing light colored khakis - the worst type of pants to stain with anything wet - approached and eyed the spot next to me. I hoped that he would see it like the other guy did and I wouldn't have to say anything. But then he turned and began the squat-to-sit motion. Ah! Danger! I thought. And just as he was hovering above the seat both me and dude #1 cried out "no no! don't sit there" and then I alone explained "there's spit." He was grateful and all but damn. Talk about a high blood pressure morning. If I had sat, say, across from the seat of doom I would have wiped my hands of any obligation whatsoever. But because I sat right next to it - that was my big mistake - it became my civic fucking duty to warn any innocent bystanders "beware: loogey".