There HAS to be a 12 step program for this affliction of mine. Cuz I've GOT to get a handle on this before I get myself into some serious trouble.
Basically, I do some intense, VERY prolonged cuddling with people who I probably wouldn't ever go any further with, and I'm pretty sure they have a hard time understanding this. But I can't just tell 'em to stop when what they're doing feels so good! Ulgh.
Make it stop!
29 October 2006
23 October 2006
Top 10 Reasons To Hate My Dad's Dog
1. She's not Ginger.
2. She's stupid.
3. She destroys everything in her path.
4. She's a complete spaz.
5. She has A.D.D.
6. She smells.
7. She'd rather stare at nothing than get pet.
8. She needs to be told everything at least three times.
9. She gets water everywhere.
10. She's untrainable.
2. She's stupid.
3. She destroys everything in her path.
4. She's a complete spaz.
5. She has A.D.D.
6. She smells.
7. She'd rather stare at nothing than get pet.
8. She needs to be told everything at least three times.
9. She gets water everywhere.
10. She's untrainable.
15 October 2006
Adventures in Grocery Checking (cont'd)
On behalf of cashiers everywhere, I'd like to give the general public a message:
If you pick something up in the grocery store and decide that you don't want it, simply hand it to the cashier and say you changed your mind. If there's something wrong with it, tell us. If not, that's fine too. See, we don't actually care what you take home.
If you're too shy to do this or think we'll take it really personally and decide to put the item back yourself, for the love of God, use your fucking head. Putting a box of cereal on the shelf next to the dog food: not the end of the world. Putting a brick of cheddar behind the shampoo: major problem. Putting perishable items where they can get warm is not a smart idea.
The best example of this happened, of course, in my lane. Someone had decided against a steak that they had taken the celophane off of (for whatever reason) and instead of handing it to me, they put it in the magazine rack, just outside of the range of my peripheral vision. So this thing sat flopped over in front of the National Enquirer for who knows how long. Finally some lady let me know.
Woman: Um, miss, there's a steak in your magazine rack.
Me: *Leans over to see* OH MY GOD THAT IS SO GROSS! Ok, I'll take care of it. Thank you.
Woman: *Reaches for the steak*
Me: NO! Don't touch it! I'll take care of it!
Woman: *Grabs it anyway, passes it to me*
Me: Oh geez... *Reluctantly takes it*
Steak: *Flops over to make complete contact with the back of my hand*
Woman: Oh that's gross!
Me: *Sigh* Yes. Yes it is.
If you pick something up in the grocery store and decide that you don't want it, simply hand it to the cashier and say you changed your mind. If there's something wrong with it, tell us. If not, that's fine too. See, we don't actually care what you take home.
If you're too shy to do this or think we'll take it really personally and decide to put the item back yourself, for the love of God, use your fucking head. Putting a box of cereal on the shelf next to the dog food: not the end of the world. Putting a brick of cheddar behind the shampoo: major problem. Putting perishable items where they can get warm is not a smart idea.
The best example of this happened, of course, in my lane. Someone had decided against a steak that they had taken the celophane off of (for whatever reason) and instead of handing it to me, they put it in the magazine rack, just outside of the range of my peripheral vision. So this thing sat flopped over in front of the National Enquirer for who knows how long. Finally some lady let me know.
Woman: Um, miss, there's a steak in your magazine rack.
Me: *Leans over to see* OH MY GOD THAT IS SO GROSS! Ok, I'll take care of it. Thank you.
Woman: *Reaches for the steak*
Me: NO! Don't touch it! I'll take care of it!
Woman: *Grabs it anyway, passes it to me*
Me: Oh geez... *Reluctantly takes it*
Steak: *Flops over to make complete contact with the back of my hand*
Woman: Oh that's gross!
Me: *Sigh* Yes. Yes it is.
12 October 2006
*ripple dissolve effect*
When I was little, sometimes I'd get nasty coughs [as children often do] that would keep me up at night. It would sometimes keept the other members of my family up too, obviously.
On bad nights when no one was getting any sleep from all the hacking, my dad would come into my room, gently pick me up and carry me to the living room, where he'd lay me down on the couch. Then he'd go into the kitchen and make us both a cup of plain herbal tea. He'd steep it till it was just right and then serve me mine. We'd sit in the living room sipping our tea until we were both done, and then he'd carry me back to bed, my throat soothed and heart content. And neither of us would say a single word the entire time.
* * * * *
My sister tends to get into ridiculous situations sometimes, and one of them happened when she was about 6. I had a friend over and all three of us were in my an dCaralee's bedroom, Caralee on the top bunk and my friend and I on the floor. Cao decided to jump off the top bunk by hanging her legs over the side and just sliding off. It usually worked, but this time not so much. She was wearing sweatpants and as she was sliding down the elastic waist band got snagged on a metal piece that kept the mattress in place. I heard a loud RIP and all of a sudden Cao had stopped her descention, mid-flight. This was followed by my sister's screaming.
My mother rushed in to find Caralee dangling two feet off the floor, suspended by her elastic waist band and some of the fabric from the seat of her pants. Quite a sight to behold.
The unfortunate part is that she actually did get hurt in the process. The metal piece she got snagged on also gave her a nice scrape on her butt. But the injury wasn't serious enough to detract from the humor of the whole thing.
* * * * *
My friend Alex is one of the weirdest, coolest people you will ever meet. And she's genuinely bizarre, she doesn't just do crazy things when people are around.
Case in point:
While completely alone and not expecting any company, Alex decides to see if she can fit in her duffle bag. So she crawls inside it and, happily hangs out in it for a moment or two, when Sarah pays Alex a surprise visit.
Sarah finds Alex inside her own duffle bag, and, thankfully, takes a picture. [sorry! couldn't find it. will keep looking.]
Wish I'd been there.
* * * * *
Adventures in Grocery Checking:
A woman came through my lane and I comoplimented her unique purse.
Fast forward several MONTHS.
Same woman comes through and asks if I remember her. After a little prompting, I did indeed remember. Then she says:
"Good! I'd like to give it to you. I'm very religious and after I left that day God told me "You should give your purse to that sweet girl" so I immediately wrapped it and put it in the back of my car. I've been looking for you every time I've come in since and I finally found you! Will you accept it?"
What do you say to that? Complete stranger, giving me her purse, because God told her to. The only way that could have been weirder was if one or both of us had been naked. After telling her how weird I thought the whole thing was, I realized that if she was going to go on a several-months-long quest to give this thing to me, I should take it from her.
I've still got it. Or at least I think I do. It might have been tossed when my mom gave away everything in my bedroom.
On bad nights when no one was getting any sleep from all the hacking, my dad would come into my room, gently pick me up and carry me to the living room, where he'd lay me down on the couch. Then he'd go into the kitchen and make us both a cup of plain herbal tea. He'd steep it till it was just right and then serve me mine. We'd sit in the living room sipping our tea until we were both done, and then he'd carry me back to bed, my throat soothed and heart content. And neither of us would say a single word the entire time.
* * * * *
My sister tends to get into ridiculous situations sometimes, and one of them happened when she was about 6. I had a friend over and all three of us were in my an dCaralee's bedroom, Caralee on the top bunk and my friend and I on the floor. Cao decided to jump off the top bunk by hanging her legs over the side and just sliding off. It usually worked, but this time not so much. She was wearing sweatpants and as she was sliding down the elastic waist band got snagged on a metal piece that kept the mattress in place. I heard a loud RIP and all of a sudden Cao had stopped her descention, mid-flight. This was followed by my sister's screaming.
My mother rushed in to find Caralee dangling two feet off the floor, suspended by her elastic waist band and some of the fabric from the seat of her pants. Quite a sight to behold.
The unfortunate part is that she actually did get hurt in the process. The metal piece she got snagged on also gave her a nice scrape on her butt. But the injury wasn't serious enough to detract from the humor of the whole thing.
* * * * *
My friend Alex is one of the weirdest, coolest people you will ever meet. And she's genuinely bizarre, she doesn't just do crazy things when people are around.
Case in point:
While completely alone and not expecting any company, Alex decides to see if she can fit in her duffle bag. So she crawls inside it and, happily hangs out in it for a moment or two, when Sarah pays Alex a surprise visit.
Sarah finds Alex inside her own duffle bag, and, thankfully, takes a picture. [sorry! couldn't find it. will keep looking.]
Wish I'd been there.
* * * * *
Adventures in Grocery Checking:
A woman came through my lane and I comoplimented her unique purse.
Fast forward several MONTHS.
Same woman comes through and asks if I remember her. After a little prompting, I did indeed remember. Then she says:
"Good! I'd like to give it to you. I'm very religious and after I left that day God told me "You should give your purse to that sweet girl" so I immediately wrapped it and put it in the back of my car. I've been looking for you every time I've come in since and I finally found you! Will you accept it?"
What do you say to that? Complete stranger, giving me her purse, because God told her to. The only way that could have been weirder was if one or both of us had been naked. After telling her how weird I thought the whole thing was, I realized that if she was going to go on a several-months-long quest to give this thing to me, I should take it from her.
I've still got it. Or at least I think I do. It might have been tossed when my mom gave away everything in my bedroom.
11 October 2006
67 Things You Didn't Know About Me
(from 10 October 2006)
1. When I was little I didn't suck my thumb, I sucked my index finger. I have hand habits that echo that today.
2. I'm not ticklish, but that's a good thing. It enables me to be touched in ways you can't touch someone who IS ticklish.
3. I'm afraid I'll be a bad mother.
4. I'm afraid of what my dad's future holds.
5. I still want the guy I met at the DoIT help desk.
6. I want to be treated well, but I want to earn it.
7. I miss being in the youth symphony.
8. I hardly ever crave ice cream. Chocolate is a different matter.
9. I like it when a guy addresses a room full of girls as "Ladies."
10. I hate ignorance and intolerance.
11. I hate birthday attention.
12. I prefer crunchy peanut butter to creamy.
13. I'm a cuddle whore. For the most part, as long as what you're doing feels good, I'll stick around.
14. I know what house I want to live in when I'm older.
15. Since my parents got divorced, I havne't cared about any holidays.
16. I don't have a favorite movie, song, book, color, etc.
17. The prettiest word in the English language is "body."
18. Babies make me uncomfortable.
19. Toilet humor isn't really funny.
20. I dwell on things.
21. I hate the way I look in pictures, but not the way I look in the mirror.
22. It doesn't bother me anymore that I can't get a tan.
23. I hate when people over age 12 go to Wal-Mart to play in the toy section. Grow up.
24. Walking home alone at night scares me less than a third of the time.
25. There are a few people that I hope to God I'll still know long after college.
26. I had one of the greatest childhoods on record.
27. I wonder if I'm disinterested in my mother because she's disinterested in me, or if I just don't care.
28. I have trouble saying "I love you" to my family.
29. I also don't like hugging them.
30. My mom dropped me off for school once and just randomly told me I was pretty. I didn't know what to think. She told me the same thing for a week. I still don't know why.
31. I hated every minute of the mission trip I went on in high school.
32. Snowfall calms me to the core.
33. I think people should touch each other more.
34. I didn't kiss anyone until after my surgery. I wonder what it feels like with a normal tongue.
35. When I cry, I want to be left the hell alone.
36. I value friendships where silence isn't awkward.
37. I keep score, most of the time.
38. *omitted*
39. I can't feel part of my chin very well. Don't touch it, the sensation is weird/awful/gross.
40. I want to learn about fine beers.
41. I daydream almost constantly.
42. I eat apple cores and seeds.
43. I wish I knew how to decorate.
44. I wonder what happened to the rough patch of skin on my left ankle. All of a sudden it disappeared.
45. I don't do the "best friend" thing. That label is a dangerous thing.
46. My favorite part of the Bugs Bunny cartoon show was the background. Same with all the animated and clay-mation Christmas movies.
47. Sometimes my tongue cramps up and it makes it hard to talk for a while.
48. My sister says I have a lisp. I hope she's not serious.
49. I've never done a single drug.
50. I've smoked one cigarette. It was stupid.
51. I should stop slouching.
52. Sometimes I think that Mexican men hit on every girl because they see beauty in them all. But I'm pretty sure they're just that horny.
53. The more pillows, the better.
54. I love having my hair played with.
55. Head massages rock my world.
56. I care about what people think of me.
57. I'm attracted to more types of guys than you can shake a stick at.
58. I don't like red roses.
59. I miss elementary school.
60. I wonder how my life and personality would be different if my parents' lives had gone according to plan.
61. I think Asian women are the prettiest.
62. I only eat plain cheerios when I'm sick.
63. I think I lost the ability to learn when my parents got divorced. I shut down.
64. I want to eat buffalo meat.
65. I'm not really fascinated by bubble wrap.
66. I'm only Catholic on paper.
67. I just want to know that everything will work out.
1. When I was little I didn't suck my thumb, I sucked my index finger. I have hand habits that echo that today.
2. I'm not ticklish, but that's a good thing. It enables me to be touched in ways you can't touch someone who IS ticklish.
3. I'm afraid I'll be a bad mother.
4. I'm afraid of what my dad's future holds.
5. I still want the guy I met at the DoIT help desk.
6. I want to be treated well, but I want to earn it.
7. I miss being in the youth symphony.
8. I hardly ever crave ice cream. Chocolate is a different matter.
9. I like it when a guy addresses a room full of girls as "Ladies."
10. I hate ignorance and intolerance.
11. I hate birthday attention.
12. I prefer crunchy peanut butter to creamy.
13. I'm a cuddle whore. For the most part, as long as what you're doing feels good, I'll stick around.
14. I know what house I want to live in when I'm older.
15. Since my parents got divorced, I havne't cared about any holidays.
16. I don't have a favorite movie, song, book, color, etc.
17. The prettiest word in the English language is "body."
18. Babies make me uncomfortable.
19. Toilet humor isn't really funny.
20. I dwell on things.
21. I hate the way I look in pictures, but not the way I look in the mirror.
22. It doesn't bother me anymore that I can't get a tan.
23. I hate when people over age 12 go to Wal-Mart to play in the toy section. Grow up.
24. Walking home alone at night scares me less than a third of the time.
25. There are a few people that I hope to God I'll still know long after college.
26. I had one of the greatest childhoods on record.
27. I wonder if I'm disinterested in my mother because she's disinterested in me, or if I just don't care.
28. I have trouble saying "I love you" to my family.
29. I also don't like hugging them.
30. My mom dropped me off for school once and just randomly told me I was pretty. I didn't know what to think. She told me the same thing for a week. I still don't know why.
31. I hated every minute of the mission trip I went on in high school.
32. Snowfall calms me to the core.
33. I think people should touch each other more.
34. I didn't kiss anyone until after my surgery. I wonder what it feels like with a normal tongue.
35. When I cry, I want to be left the hell alone.
36. I value friendships where silence isn't awkward.
37. I keep score, most of the time.
38. *omitted*
39. I can't feel part of my chin very well. Don't touch it, the sensation is weird/awful/gross.
40. I want to learn about fine beers.
41. I daydream almost constantly.
42. I eat apple cores and seeds.
43. I wish I knew how to decorate.
44. I wonder what happened to the rough patch of skin on my left ankle. All of a sudden it disappeared.
45. I don't do the "best friend" thing. That label is a dangerous thing.
46. My favorite part of the Bugs Bunny cartoon show was the background. Same with all the animated and clay-mation Christmas movies.
47. Sometimes my tongue cramps up and it makes it hard to talk for a while.
48. My sister says I have a lisp. I hope she's not serious.
49. I've never done a single drug.
50. I've smoked one cigarette. It was stupid.
51. I should stop slouching.
52. Sometimes I think that Mexican men hit on every girl because they see beauty in them all. But I'm pretty sure they're just that horny.
53. The more pillows, the better.
54. I love having my hair played with.
55. Head massages rock my world.
56. I care about what people think of me.
57. I'm attracted to more types of guys than you can shake a stick at.
58. I don't like red roses.
59. I miss elementary school.
60. I wonder how my life and personality would be different if my parents' lives had gone according to plan.
61. I think Asian women are the prettiest.
62. I only eat plain cheerios when I'm sick.
63. I think I lost the ability to learn when my parents got divorced. I shut down.
64. I want to eat buffalo meat.
65. I'm not really fascinated by bubble wrap.
66. I'm only Catholic on paper.
67. I just want to know that everything will work out.
Nagging Thoughts
(from 8 October 2006)
Nagging Thoughts:
-After spending a night and a day with one of my friends, he turns to me and out of the blue says "Why are you so---nevermind" and then changed the subject. That was nearly two months ago and I still want to know what he was going to ask me.
-What will I tell my sister if she doesn't get into Madison? I dont' even believe she wants to go here. I want her to go wherever she'll be happiest, period.
-Would Ginger still be healthy and here if we hadn't first gotten into that car accident and then if dad had taken better care of her?
-I'm afraid I don't want either of my parents at my wedding. They can't be in the same room together because they hate each other so badly, but it goes beyond that. I'm afraid my dad will taunt me all day and I'm afraid my mom will wear black.
-How would my life have been different if I hadn't been raised in a house where 8 was bedtime, only G movies were allowed, and the rules were never negotiable?
-My mother says I don't respect her. She's absolutely right.
Nagging Thoughts:
-After spending a night and a day with one of my friends, he turns to me and out of the blue says "Why are you so---nevermind" and then changed the subject. That was nearly two months ago and I still want to know what he was going to ask me.
-What will I tell my sister if she doesn't get into Madison? I dont' even believe she wants to go here. I want her to go wherever she'll be happiest, period.
-Would Ginger still be healthy and here if we hadn't first gotten into that car accident and then if dad had taken better care of her?
-I'm afraid I don't want either of my parents at my wedding. They can't be in the same room together because they hate each other so badly, but it goes beyond that. I'm afraid my dad will taunt me all day and I'm afraid my mom will wear black.
-How would my life have been different if I hadn't been raised in a house where 8 was bedtime, only G movies were allowed, and the rules were never negotiable?
-My mother says I don't respect her. She's absolutely right.
Don't Puke on the Food
(from 29 August 2006)
At work once a trashy looking woman came through with her two kids, one about 4 and a toddler that probably couldn't walk yet. I'm scanning her groceries when I feel something wet and chunky on one of her itmes. I looked at what it was, thought to myself, "No way..." and then looked at the baby sitting in the cart and thought, "Oh fuck."
Me: Um, ma'am, I think she may have puked on your food...
Lady: Huh?
Me: Yeah...look...*show food and hand*
Lady: Oh...Eh, that's alright.
Ok, I have your kid's puke on my hand and that's alright? I beg to differ. But I have a job to do so I wipe my hand off and keep scanning her stuff. And what do I get? Another handful of vomit.
Me: Oh, it looks like it got on a bunch of stuff.
Lady: Hm.
Look, bitch. I don't appreciate your indifference here. My job sucks enough as it is. So wherever you are, thanks a lot for that.
At work once a trashy looking woman came through with her two kids, one about 4 and a toddler that probably couldn't walk yet. I'm scanning her groceries when I feel something wet and chunky on one of her itmes. I looked at what it was, thought to myself, "No way..." and then looked at the baby sitting in the cart and thought, "Oh fuck."
Me: Um, ma'am, I think she may have puked on your food...
Lady: Huh?
Me: Yeah...look...*show food and hand*
Lady: Oh...Eh, that's alright.
Ok, I have your kid's puke on my hand and that's alright? I beg to differ. But I have a job to do so I wipe my hand off and keep scanning her stuff. And what do I get? Another handful of vomit.
Me: Oh, it looks like it got on a bunch of stuff.
Lady: Hm.
Look, bitch. I don't appreciate your indifference here. My job sucks enough as it is. So wherever you are, thanks a lot for that.
(from 20 August 2006)
I just read a blog that I frequent and one of the guys who posts for it talked about how he doesn't actually like music.
His reasons were that various evil forces (radio, i-tunes, etc.) prevented him from exposure to anything that isn't mainstream...
I either lost my train of thought or stopped caring. My apologies.
His reasons were that various evil forces (radio, i-tunes, etc.) prevented him from exposure to anything that isn't mainstream...
I either lost my train of thought or stopped caring. My apologies.
The Farmer's Market
(from 10 August 2006)
I love Madison's farmer's market. I love the crowd and the gorgeous produce.
[seriously that's all i wrote that day. pathetic.]
I love Madison's farmer's market. I love the crowd and the gorgeous produce.
[seriously that's all i wrote that day. pathetic.]
(from 31 July 2006)
continued from July 2nd
19. Pudding pies.
Taking a ready-made graham cracker crust and pitting instant pudding in it with whipped cream does NOT constitute a pie. That's the laziest dessert ever concieved and it doesn't even taste good.
20. Being asked how long my homework will take.
This stems from childhood. I really don't even know how long studying will take and my dad likes to ask over and over again until I get really upset and slam the door in his face.
19. Pudding pies.
Taking a ready-made graham cracker crust and pitting instant pudding in it with whipped cream does NOT constitute a pie. That's the laziest dessert ever concieved and it doesn't even taste good.
20. Being asked how long my homework will take.
This stems from childhood. I really don't even know how long studying will take and my dad likes to ask over and over again until I get really upset and slam the door in his face.
On Homosexuality
(from 13 July 2006)
What people do in their bedrooms is their business, and that's my official position on homosexuality.
Seriously, it's no one's business.
And if you want to bring religion into it, here's my response:
So fags are evil abominations, eh? Then I suppose it goes without saying that they're going to spend eternity in hell, burning or whatever fates homos suffer--my Dante's a little rusty. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but spending eternity in hell is less than pleasnt, no? That being said, why not afford these people 80 years or so of NOT being tortured. They're not going to turn your children gay and they're not going to set your church erupting into flames.
So give 'em a break. Everyone does something in the sack that's not exactly Kosher. And if they don't they're WAY too uptight and have bigger fish to fry.
What people do in their bedrooms is their business, and that's my official position on homosexuality.
Seriously, it's no one's business.
And if you want to bring religion into it, here's my response:
So fags are evil abominations, eh? Then I suppose it goes without saying that they're going to spend eternity in hell, burning or whatever fates homos suffer--my Dante's a little rusty. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but spending eternity in hell is less than pleasnt, no? That being said, why not afford these people 80 years or so of NOT being tortured. They're not going to turn your children gay and they're not going to set your church erupting into flames.
So give 'em a break. Everyone does something in the sack that's not exactly Kosher. And if they don't they're WAY too uptight and have bigger fish to fry.
On Abortion
(from 12 July 2006)
First semester of this past school year (sophomore year) I went to an abortion info meeting, open to the public, with a friend of mine from Animal Science 101 and Chem 104, Kate Anderson. The point of the meeting was to showcase why abortion should remain legal, who the cause's enemies were, and so forth. I'd never been to anything like it and was sort of on the fence about the issue.
To start with, the speaker was absolutely horrible. She had no confidence, even though the room was filled with people who supported her opinion. Her voice was shaky and she had trouble keeping a good sentence going. She was introduced as being an advocate for longer than I've been alive, but she certainly couldn't have been speaking for that long. She always sounded like she was going to burst out crying, and not because she felt strongly about a loaded issue.
Anyway, they told gory stories about illegal abortions gone wrong and such, which dind't reall phase me because I was expecting it. But the one thing that really bugged me about the information presented was when they quoted Hilary Clinton as describing abortion as a "tragic" decision. These women took great offense to this and I didn't really understand why at first. However, they took the comment to mean that the women who chose to abort a pregnancy made a tragic decision, rather than that it was a tragic decisioni to have to make. They took it as Hilary Clinton saying the women had made the wrong choice. I saw it differently.
I saw Hilary's answer as compassionate and very woman. I felt she was describing the state of having to decide whether or not to abort. And she's absolutely right. Being pregnant and not being able to afford the child, having the child as the result of a rape, having a pregnancy where you know the baby will be severely disabled, being too young to safely have one, or any other reason a woman could have to want to terminate a pregnancy, are tragic circumstances. It's unfortunate they are in that situation.
I can't recall ever feeling bad for a politician for having potentially been misunderstood, but that day I really felt that they were not getting the point.
At the end of the meeting the floor was opened to questions and comments. I wanted to share my opinion on the "tragic" issue but didn't.
Something else I found a little weird was that some of the women there seemed to be pro-choice to the point of thinking that abortion was a good thing and that women should do it all the time. Now, believing that women should be allowed to choose abortion is one thing, but thinking that women absolutely should get them is a whole 'nother can of worms that I didn't know existed. It made me a little nervous.
Antother thing that made me nervous was the guy in the hallway whose job it was to sell literature on the subject, pamplets, T-shirts, key chains, etc. He gave me the creeps like nothing else. He acted friendly and intelligent and I seemed to be the only one to notice that something was a little off. I only let him look me in the eye once. It may sound strange and extreme, but I felt he was dangerous and even inhuman. The hair stood up on teh back of my neck. It was all made worse by the fact that Kate, I, and another girl were the only ones out in the hallway with him (we left before the open floor discussion was over). And it was at night in som eobscure corner of the basement of the Humanities building. Eek.
My position on abortion is pro-choice. I doubt I could ever have one myself but I'm not about to think that that decision suits everyone. I believe that my body is my business, and your body is your business. I hope I never have to make that decision, though.
First semester of this past school year (sophomore year) I went to an abortion info meeting, open to the public, with a friend of mine from Animal Science 101 and Chem 104, Kate Anderson. The point of the meeting was to showcase why abortion should remain legal, who the cause's enemies were, and so forth. I'd never been to anything like it and was sort of on the fence about the issue.
To start with, the speaker was absolutely horrible. She had no confidence, even though the room was filled with people who supported her opinion. Her voice was shaky and she had trouble keeping a good sentence going. She was introduced as being an advocate for longer than I've been alive, but she certainly couldn't have been speaking for that long. She always sounded like she was going to burst out crying, and not because she felt strongly about a loaded issue.
Anyway, they told gory stories about illegal abortions gone wrong and such, which dind't reall phase me because I was expecting it. But the one thing that really bugged me about the information presented was when they quoted Hilary Clinton as describing abortion as a "tragic" decision. These women took great offense to this and I didn't really understand why at first. However, they took the comment to mean that the women who chose to abort a pregnancy made a tragic decision, rather than that it was a tragic decisioni to have to make. They took it as Hilary Clinton saying the women had made the wrong choice. I saw it differently.
I saw Hilary's answer as compassionate and very woman. I felt she was describing the state of having to decide whether or not to abort. And she's absolutely right. Being pregnant and not being able to afford the child, having the child as the result of a rape, having a pregnancy where you know the baby will be severely disabled, being too young to safely have one, or any other reason a woman could have to want to terminate a pregnancy, are tragic circumstances. It's unfortunate they are in that situation.
I can't recall ever feeling bad for a politician for having potentially been misunderstood, but that day I really felt that they were not getting the point.
At the end of the meeting the floor was opened to questions and comments. I wanted to share my opinion on the "tragic" issue but didn't.
Something else I found a little weird was that some of the women there seemed to be pro-choice to the point of thinking that abortion was a good thing and that women should do it all the time. Now, believing that women should be allowed to choose abortion is one thing, but thinking that women absolutely should get them is a whole 'nother can of worms that I didn't know existed. It made me a little nervous.
Antother thing that made me nervous was the guy in the hallway whose job it was to sell literature on the subject, pamplets, T-shirts, key chains, etc. He gave me the creeps like nothing else. He acted friendly and intelligent and I seemed to be the only one to notice that something was a little off. I only let him look me in the eye once. It may sound strange and extreme, but I felt he was dangerous and even inhuman. The hair stood up on teh back of my neck. It was all made worse by the fact that Kate, I, and another girl were the only ones out in the hallway with him (we left before the open floor discussion was over). And it was at night in som eobscure corner of the basement of the Humanities building. Eek.
My position on abortion is pro-choice. I doubt I could ever have one myself but I'm not about to think that that decision suits everyone. I believe that my body is my business, and your body is your business. I hope I never have to make that decision, though.
(from 11 July 2006)
I don't know how enthused I am about going to visit people in Madison next week. I haven't set anything so I might not even go, but I really wanted to see Keith while I was there and he's talking about now coming now. Melanie's a little peeved about my trying to move out, so staying with her might be weird, and I don't know what I'll do with Marc, Briana, or Shesha. I've never visited friends over teh summer so I'm kind of excited for it too.
I think it'd be really good for Keith, too. He's hating his summer and doesn't see anyone ever and isn't the kind of guy who thrives on solitude. I worry about him a lot sometimes.
I think it'd be really good for Keith, too. He's hating his summer and doesn't see anyone ever and isn't the kind of guy who thrives on solitude. I worry about him a lot sometimes.
(from 10 July 2006)
I consider the following to be fruits:
cucumbers
tomatoes
bell peppers
squashes
Things I like about my body:
skin color
height
frame
legs
eyes
flexible digits
hair
More things I wish I was:
confident
in a relationship
bilingual/trilingual
assertive
thoughtful (moreso)
stronger
studious
cultured
a morning person
cucumbers
tomatoes
bell peppers
squashes
Things I like about my body:
skin color
height
frame
legs
eyes
flexible digits
hair
More things I wish I was:
confident
in a relationship
bilingual/trilingual
assertive
thoughtful (moreso)
stronger
studious
cultured
a morning person
Public Schooled
(from 8 July 2006)
In my sophomore history class in high school (western civilizations) we had to keep a portfolio of our work from all our classes, showing that we had a variety of study an dcommunication skills. We were told that it was good for college applications and college interviews, but c'mon. When you're applying for college you don't bring up the math quiz you aced two years ago. So we all just did it for the grade and nothing else.
One of the skills we were supposed to showcase was prose composition, which wasn't hard to come up with.
Ok, so one day nearing the deatline for the semeseter's portfolio compilation we had a substitute teacher. Needless to say, we were being rowdy. A ridiculous project paired with a sub is just asking for trouble.
I was chatting up a storm, being a total smartass. THis substitute was getting fed up with me not getting any work done and distracting the class. She told me that if I didn't start behaving that I would have to write an esesay explaining why I hadn't gotten any work done. Noticing the assignment would be prose composition, I immediately asked if I could include the essay in my portfolio. Haha. Bad idea. Everyone else laughed except her.
She immediately grabbed my cheeks in her hand and squeezed--hard. I tried to pull my head away but she kept her grip. She told me to stop mouthing off and get to work. She held my face a little longer and finally let go. I had been laughing still the whole time, even though I was surprised that she'd do such a thing.
After it was over I turned bright red and my friends and I laughed some more about it but still couldn't believe what'd just happened.
In my sophomore history class in high school (western civilizations) we had to keep a portfolio of our work from all our classes, showing that we had a variety of study an dcommunication skills. We were told that it was good for college applications and college interviews, but c'mon. When you're applying for college you don't bring up the math quiz you aced two years ago. So we all just did it for the grade and nothing else.
One of the skills we were supposed to showcase was prose composition, which wasn't hard to come up with.
Ok, so one day nearing the deatline for the semeseter's portfolio compilation we had a substitute teacher. Needless to say, we were being rowdy. A ridiculous project paired with a sub is just asking for trouble.
I was chatting up a storm, being a total smartass. THis substitute was getting fed up with me not getting any work done and distracting the class. She told me that if I didn't start behaving that I would have to write an esesay explaining why I hadn't gotten any work done. Noticing the assignment would be prose composition, I immediately asked if I could include the essay in my portfolio. Haha. Bad idea. Everyone else laughed except her.
She immediately grabbed my cheeks in her hand and squeezed--hard. I tried to pull my head away but she kept her grip. She told me to stop mouthing off and get to work. She held my face a little longer and finally let go. I had been laughing still the whole time, even though I was surprised that she'd do such a thing.
After it was over I turned bright red and my friends and I laughed some more about it but still couldn't believe what'd just happened.
(from 6 July 2006)
My sister spent 20 minutes in her bedroom today trying to get some enormous bug off of her window shades. I didn't see the thing, but from the fuss she was making it mush have been the size of a hockey puck. She asked for my help and I refused on the grounds that she was being ridiculously dramatic about the whole thing. Eventually my mom marched in, took a kleenex and squashed the thing, taking care of the problem in all of 5 seconds. I called my sister a retard for not having done it herself 20 minutes ago adn she got pissed, saying that she hated me because I down-play everything.
It was a bug. On a window shade.
* * * * *
*section omitted*
* * * * *
continued from July 2nd
11. People who make a fuss when I card them for alcohol.
By now people should be aware of the policy: we card everyone. EVERYONE. If we don't, we get fired on teh spot, no questions asked. And it's not that big of an inconvenience.
12. When my sister plays the violin with her door open.
This house is small enough where something happens in one room and you hear it in the far corners of the house. So when she plays, that's all you get to listen to. And it bugs me when I listen because a lot of times she goes to fast for her own good and she can't keep one note to a bow. It's a right-hand/left-hand coordination problem and it sounds awful and shouldn't be an issue in someone who's been playing since 4th grade.
13. Being called "CC".
This girl at work was astounded at the revelation that my first and last initals are the same letter. So she decided to call me CC. Problem is, it sounds like it'd be spelled Sisi or Cici, or something else really white trash. Only rarely have I liked the nicknames people have given me. I don't like this one but have tolerated it too long to do anything about it now.
14. Scenario: Someone (anyone; you, me, a stranger) is in the bathroom and someone calls in "What are you doing in there?"
None of your damn business! One of these days I'm going to either answer honestly or make up something totally crude. Either way I'm sure I'd never be asked again, which would be nice.
15. The semicolon.
I'd like to vote the semicolon off the grammatical island, if I may, and here's why. The average American is not smart enough to a)use the semicolon correctly and b)form a sentence where a semicolon would be needed at all. We simply are not qualified for that sort of thing.
Also, they're distracting. This may be something that only I grapple with, but when I run across a semicolon in text, my reading is guaranteed to be interrupted by the following thoughts (in this order):
A-"God damn it, a semi-colon."
B-"What kind of semi-colon is it?" (i.e. a lising one or a simple separation of clauses?)
C-"Is it being used correctly?"
if yes: they could have used a comma.
if no: they should have used a comma.
D-"Crap, now I forgot what I was reading."
16. Having acne at age 20.
17. Non-yogurt yogurt in food.
One of the latest crazes in this country is yogurt products. Not yogurt, itself, mind you. People go nuts for anything yogurt-flavored. Yogurt granola bars, yodurt cereal, yogurt candy, yogurt bites. Just eat a damn yogurt!
confession: Total-Vanilla Yogurt cereal is one of my favorites, and I hate myself for that.
18. When people who can't sing think they can.
This one really sucks because it usually means you have to sit through a performance that is mediocre at best. Then you have to be non-descript in your critique lest you look like a mean asshole.
* * * * *
I don't know why, but I feel sexy when opening the trunk of my minivan. I do. I think it has something to do with the position I'm in when it's all the way up but I haven't let go. It's an incredibly stupid time to feel sexy, I know, but I can't help it.
I also feel sexy after a run.
And while wearing certain towels. I fell like some kind of a toga goddess or something, with just the right amount of curve. It's fun to walk around in them and I do so as often as I can.
* * * * *
There's a man named Jim at work. He's a bagger and I'm guessing he's 70 years old, and he's one of my favorite people to work with.
Sometimes I don't like how he's treated by management. He always does what he's told an dnever causes any problems so I don't like when eh's asked to do things like collecting garbages or clean messes in the men's room. And I hate when one of the women supervisors snaps at him to do a chore he hasn't gotten to yet. Rank is not so important in a grocery store that you can't show respect for a man who is retired and old enough to be either the father or grandfather of everyone who works there.
I could understand it if he was lazy or stupid or mean, but he isn't and it also angers me that a genuinely good man has to bag groceries during his retirement. He's told me that he just wanted something to keep busy with and the little extra cash helped him pay for a vacation to Arizona.
But I still think it sucks.
It was a bug. On a window shade.
* * * * *
*section omitted*
* * * * *
continued from July 2nd
11. People who make a fuss when I card them for alcohol.
By now people should be aware of the policy: we card everyone. EVERYONE. If we don't, we get fired on teh spot, no questions asked. And it's not that big of an inconvenience.
12. When my sister plays the violin with her door open.
This house is small enough where something happens in one room and you hear it in the far corners of the house. So when she plays, that's all you get to listen to. And it bugs me when I listen because a lot of times she goes to fast for her own good and she can't keep one note to a bow. It's a right-hand/left-hand coordination problem and it sounds awful and shouldn't be an issue in someone who's been playing since 4th grade.
13. Being called "CC".
This girl at work was astounded at the revelation that my first and last initals are the same letter. So she decided to call me CC. Problem is, it sounds like it'd be spelled Sisi or Cici, or something else really white trash. Only rarely have I liked the nicknames people have given me. I don't like this one but have tolerated it too long to do anything about it now.
14. Scenario: Someone (anyone; you, me, a stranger) is in the bathroom and someone calls in "What are you doing in there?"
None of your damn business! One of these days I'm going to either answer honestly or make up something totally crude. Either way I'm sure I'd never be asked again, which would be nice.
15. The semicolon.
I'd like to vote the semicolon off the grammatical island, if I may, and here's why. The average American is not smart enough to a)use the semicolon correctly and b)form a sentence where a semicolon would be needed at all. We simply are not qualified for that sort of thing.
Also, they're distracting. This may be something that only I grapple with, but when I run across a semicolon in text, my reading is guaranteed to be interrupted by the following thoughts (in this order):
A-"God damn it, a semi-colon."
B-"What kind of semi-colon is it?" (i.e. a lising one or a simple separation of clauses?)
C-"Is it being used correctly?"
if yes: they could have used a comma.
if no: they should have used a comma.
D-"Crap, now I forgot what I was reading."
16. Having acne at age 20.
17. Non-yogurt yogurt in food.
One of the latest crazes in this country is yogurt products. Not yogurt, itself, mind you. People go nuts for anything yogurt-flavored. Yogurt granola bars, yodurt cereal, yogurt candy, yogurt bites. Just eat a damn yogurt!
confession: Total-Vanilla Yogurt cereal is one of my favorites, and I hate myself for that.
18. When people who can't sing think they can.
This one really sucks because it usually means you have to sit through a performance that is mediocre at best. Then you have to be non-descript in your critique lest you look like a mean asshole.
* * * * *
I don't know why, but I feel sexy when opening the trunk of my minivan. I do. I think it has something to do with the position I'm in when it's all the way up but I haven't let go. It's an incredibly stupid time to feel sexy, I know, but I can't help it.
I also feel sexy after a run.
And while wearing certain towels. I fell like some kind of a toga goddess or something, with just the right amount of curve. It's fun to walk around in them and I do so as often as I can.
* * * * *
There's a man named Jim at work. He's a bagger and I'm guessing he's 70 years old, and he's one of my favorite people to work with.
Sometimes I don't like how he's treated by management. He always does what he's told an dnever causes any problems so I don't like when eh's asked to do things like collecting garbages or clean messes in the men's room. And I hate when one of the women supervisors snaps at him to do a chore he hasn't gotten to yet. Rank is not so important in a grocery store that you can't show respect for a man who is retired and old enough to be either the father or grandfather of everyone who works there.
I could understand it if he was lazy or stupid or mean, but he isn't and it also angers me that a genuinely good man has to bag groceries during his retirement. He's told me that he just wanted something to keep busy with and the little extra cash helped him pay for a vacation to Arizona.
But I still think it sucks.
Pretty Girls
(from 3 July 2006)
*section omitted*
* * * * *
There's this impish, funny looking old man who comes to Pick n Save a couple times a week. He has this sort of game he plays where when he comes in he asks the simple question "How are you?" When you answer "good" he brightens up and says "Ah ha! You mean pretty and good!"
At first I thought he was just some coot who liked to make the girls blush. You know, an old man who hits on every woman he sees because he's got nothing to lose. But then I got to talking to him and he told me that he had 10 children (he corrected me when I said "kids"). He said that his daughters used to ask if they were pretty or not and he would tell them, "There's no such thing as an ugly girl. There are pretty ones, there are very pretty ones, and YOU are one of the prettiest."
What a great thing for a father to tell his daughters, no?
* * * * *
I've still got to think of a title for this journal. Maybe.
*section omitted*
* * * * *
There's this impish, funny looking old man who comes to Pick n Save a couple times a week. He has this sort of game he plays where when he comes in he asks the simple question "How are you?" When you answer "good" he brightens up and says "Ah ha! You mean pretty and good!"
At first I thought he was just some coot who liked to make the girls blush. You know, an old man who hits on every woman he sees because he's got nothing to lose. But then I got to talking to him and he told me that he had 10 children (he corrected me when I said "kids"). He said that his daughters used to ask if they were pretty or not and he would tell them, "There's no such thing as an ugly girl. There are pretty ones, there are very pretty ones, and YOU are one of the prettiest."
What a great thing for a father to tell his daughters, no?
* * * * *
I've still got to think of a title for this journal. Maybe.
20 Things That Annoy Me
(from 2 July 2006)
Finally back to using the prompts Katie gave me.
20 things that annoy me, why they annoy me, and who does them:
1. Talking during movies.
Mel does it a bit, lots of other people, too. My dad does sometimes on purpose to make me angry. I can't concentrate on teh movie when people do it. And it's such a basic thing, too. It's universally understood that talking during a movie is annoyting to other people so why do it?!
2. The way mens' voices rattle my head.
When men talk there's a low droning sound underneath the actual speech. Some have it at such a frequency that it makes my head vibrate. I can feel it in my jaw and ears and eyes and even my chest sometimes. [for this reason, i have sometimes have trouble laying on a guy's chest and having a conversation at the same time.]
3. The kids down the block
They don't know that they can't just come over and go wherever they want and ask to eat all my food. Seriously.
4. When my sister won't stop talking.
If there's a periosd of long silence she'll say all kinds of random stuff to try an dstart a conversation. It usually makes me want to be alone.
5. The digesting sound I make.
It's dumb and I'm trying to stop, but it's not working. I hope it doesn't annoy my roommates too much.
6. Alarm clock sounds in movies/on TV.
They usually only let it go for 3 buzzes, but it just makes me furious. I hate that sound enough in the morning, but during the day is just something else.
7. The sound of long fingernails scratching skin.
It's high pitched and makes me vibrate just like the voice thing. And it makes me think that there's dead skin all over.
8. When this guy at work thinks he has to touch me every time he goes by.
Ulgh. He's a creep and doesn't respect women. He's gross and the attention was sort of cut at first but now...no.
9. The neighbors.
They suck. They dont' answer their door when I knowck and they make the back yard smell like smoke.
10. When my mom has her boyfriend over without telling me.
I see it as an intrusion. I become the guest when he's here. My job is to make myself scarce. And it's such a simple thing to ask for! A day's warning. Not hard.
Finally back to using the prompts Katie gave me.
20 things that annoy me, why they annoy me, and who does them:
1. Talking during movies.
Mel does it a bit, lots of other people, too. My dad does sometimes on purpose to make me angry. I can't concentrate on teh movie when people do it. And it's such a basic thing, too. It's universally understood that talking during a movie is annoyting to other people so why do it?!
2. The way mens' voices rattle my head.
When men talk there's a low droning sound underneath the actual speech. Some have it at such a frequency that it makes my head vibrate. I can feel it in my jaw and ears and eyes and even my chest sometimes. [for this reason, i have sometimes have trouble laying on a guy's chest and having a conversation at the same time.]
3. The kids down the block
They don't know that they can't just come over and go wherever they want and ask to eat all my food. Seriously.
4. When my sister won't stop talking.
If there's a periosd of long silence she'll say all kinds of random stuff to try an dstart a conversation. It usually makes me want to be alone.
5. The digesting sound I make.
It's dumb and I'm trying to stop, but it's not working. I hope it doesn't annoy my roommates too much.
6. Alarm clock sounds in movies/on TV.
They usually only let it go for 3 buzzes, but it just makes me furious. I hate that sound enough in the morning, but during the day is just something else.
7. The sound of long fingernails scratching skin.
It's high pitched and makes me vibrate just like the voice thing. And it makes me think that there's dead skin all over.
8. When this guy at work thinks he has to touch me every time he goes by.
Ulgh. He's a creep and doesn't respect women. He's gross and the attention was sort of cut at first but now...no.
9. The neighbors.
They suck. They dont' answer their door when I knowck and they make the back yard smell like smoke.
10. When my mom has her boyfriend over without telling me.
I see it as an intrusion. I become the guest when he's here. My job is to make myself scarce. And it's such a simple thing to ask for! A day's warning. Not hard.
(from 1 July 2006)
It's now been a year since last summer's scandal at work. It hasn't even been mentioned since last July but when it happened no one would shut up about it.
I've thought about it plenty, though, especially this time of year. I don't know if I would make the same decision if I knew then what I know now. I mean I probably would, but the consequences were so unforeseen to me that for a long time I regretted what I did. I didn't get support on it from anyone, save a few people. Even my dad thought it was an unwise decision.
I think I'll always remain at least a little divided on whether or not I did the right thing. Or at least whether or not it was worth it.
* * * * *
A list of things I wish I were:
-more flexible (physically)
-more political
-well read
-good with kids
-aggressive (sometimes)
-better at taking aggression
-slightly thinner
-athletic
-really good at a hobby
-less annoying
* * * * *
I envy my friend Alex for her home. An average sized place in Oak Park, Illinois, with a dog, an average-looking back yard, and an enormous high school not too far away.
From the second I stepped foot in that house, though, I wanted to be a part of that family. We pulled up to her house after dark and I was carrying a duffle bag or two and it was pretty quiet until we got inside. Alex's dad was the first one to meet us and they hugged and kissed each other, making me feel immediately out of place. That NEVER happens in my house. Alex's mom was the next one to com einto the living room. She, too, hugged and kissed Alex, but then she hugged me, too! As if I was the one returning home or was an old friend of the family. I liked it a lot but it didn't come naturally for me like it did for Alex and Tyler, who'd come along, too. We moved into the kitchen wher ethere was steak dinner waiting for us (wrecked lent, again...), which was delicoius, as well as Alex's two younger sisters. Wait no. One of the two was there. The other came later. Anyway, her neighbors were also there having dinner (that never happens at my house, ,either) and Alex's sister had a friend over (also never happens). I can't say I've ever felt more welcome anywhere in my entire life. The whole place was alive and no one there wanted to be anywhere else.
How amazing it must be to have all that to go back to anytime. A house with an entire, loving family.
Having seen that for a weekend made me want to have my own family in Oak Park. Nice neighborhood near a beautiful city (Chicago) and lake Michigan, still close to Wisconsin.
I realize that the location has nothing to do with why those people are so happy. If I had visited them in Eau Claire or Oconomowoc, I'd be fantasizing about living there instead.
Anyway, the point is that it was beautiful and I want it. Badly.
I've thought about it plenty, though, especially this time of year. I don't know if I would make the same decision if I knew then what I know now. I mean I probably would, but the consequences were so unforeseen to me that for a long time I regretted what I did. I didn't get support on it from anyone, save a few people. Even my dad thought it was an unwise decision.
I think I'll always remain at least a little divided on whether or not I did the right thing. Or at least whether or not it was worth it.
* * * * *
A list of things I wish I were:
-more flexible (physically)
-more political
-well read
-good with kids
-aggressive (sometimes)
-better at taking aggression
-slightly thinner
-athletic
-really good at a hobby
-less annoying
* * * * *
I envy my friend Alex for her home. An average sized place in Oak Park, Illinois, with a dog, an average-looking back yard, and an enormous high school not too far away.
From the second I stepped foot in that house, though, I wanted to be a part of that family. We pulled up to her house after dark and I was carrying a duffle bag or two and it was pretty quiet until we got inside. Alex's dad was the first one to meet us and they hugged and kissed each other, making me feel immediately out of place. That NEVER happens in my house. Alex's mom was the next one to com einto the living room. She, too, hugged and kissed Alex, but then she hugged me, too! As if I was the one returning home or was an old friend of the family. I liked it a lot but it didn't come naturally for me like it did for Alex and Tyler, who'd come along, too. We moved into the kitchen wher ethere was steak dinner waiting for us (wrecked lent, again...), which was delicoius, as well as Alex's two younger sisters. Wait no. One of the two was there. The other came later. Anyway, her neighbors were also there having dinner (that never happens at my house, ,either) and Alex's sister had a friend over (also never happens). I can't say I've ever felt more welcome anywhere in my entire life. The whole place was alive and no one there wanted to be anywhere else.
How amazing it must be to have all that to go back to anytime. A house with an entire, loving family.
Having seen that for a weekend made me want to have my own family in Oak Park. Nice neighborhood near a beautiful city (Chicago) and lake Michigan, still close to Wisconsin.
I realize that the location has nothing to do with why those people are so happy. If I had visited them in Eau Claire or Oconomowoc, I'd be fantasizing about living there instead.
Anyway, the point is that it was beautiful and I want it. Badly.
(from 22 June 2006)
Once again, I have been threatened to move out of this ridiculous house. Today it was because my mother tried to call the house but I was online at the time. So instead of sending me an email she stewed in her anger until she got home. When I walk through the door she snaps at me that I'm no longer allowed to use my computer in her house because I can't follow the rules and that I'll have limited access to the comoputer *cough piece of shit cough* that the rest of the family uses.
Now when she tried to call the house I believe that she wanted me to go buy a bag of chips because she left to do just that after she threatened to kick me out. So if I had been able to take a phone call to get a bag of chips, everything would be fine.
This is all unbelievable because she has no way of enforcing her new rule. She won't touch my computer because dad bought it for me and she can't do anything to me when she's not here.
It's awful to live in a house where your mother is so desperate to get rid of you that she snatches up any excuse she can to evict me.
Now when she tried to call the house I believe that she wanted me to go buy a bag of chips because she left to do just that after she threatened to kick me out. So if I had been able to take a phone call to get a bag of chips, everything would be fine.
This is all unbelievable because she has no way of enforcing her new rule. She won't touch my computer because dad bought it for me and she can't do anything to me when she's not here.
It's awful to live in a house where your mother is so desperate to get rid of you that she snatches up any excuse she can to evict me.
(from 21 June 2006)
The other day some women at work were talking about how much they disapproved of the foodstamp program and the people on it. They complained about their tax dollars and people who don't speak English, etc, and I just listened.
I wondered how people who worked for so little money could be so insensitive towards people who have even less.
To qualify for foodstamps in Wisconsin, I believe you can't own your own home, have to be low income, and your car can only be worth however much. Your life has to suck, basically.
These women were making the case that the people who recieve foodstamps are lazy, undeserving heathens, mostly minorities.
Bitches. They better hope they never find out what it's like to be on foodstamps.
[and isn't it nice to know you live in a country that's got your back when things don't go as planned?]
I wondered how people who worked for so little money could be so insensitive towards people who have even less.
To qualify for foodstamps in Wisconsin, I believe you can't own your own home, have to be low income, and your car can only be worth however much. Your life has to suck, basically.
These women were making the case that the people who recieve foodstamps are lazy, undeserving heathens, mostly minorities.
Bitches. They better hope they never find out what it's like to be on foodstamps.
[and isn't it nice to know you live in a country that's got your back when things don't go as planned?]
On Weight
(from 20 June 2006)
I'm getting sick of everyone I know being so confused as to why I'm so sensitive about my weight.
I used to weigh about 115 or 120. Now I'm between 130 and 135. I realize that it's a pretty healthy weight for a woman my age and height to be, but I was underweight my whole life and adjusting has not been fun. Gaining weight like that doesn't just make you go up a pants size. It does things to your body that suck. Your skin stretches out and you aren't as smooth and firm as you used to be. And the thing I hate most about it is seeing people I haven't seen since I was 120 lbs. A couple of examples come to mind.
When my dad came to pick me up from my first semester at Madison he walked into the lobby of my dorm where I was waiting for him with all my friends from my floor. Everything was normal unti lwe got in the car alone and my dad did a complete personality U-turn.
"Oh my GOD, Catherine, what has happened to you?!"
"What?"
"Look at you! You must've gained like 30 lbs this semester!"
"What--no I haven't!"
"When I walked in and saw you sitting there I wanted to scream and point at your stomach! Look at it! It's like there's half a basketball strapped to your midsection!"
"Dad. Shut up."
"Seriously! I would have screamed, too, if your friends weren't there. I'll bet your pants are getting tighter, aren't they? Aren't they?"
"Well, yeah..."
"Jesus, Catherine, I cannoth believe this. How much do you weigh now?"
"I don't know."
"C'mon."
"Seriously, I don't know."
"I'll bet you weigh 160 pounds."
"What?! I do not!"
"I'll bet you do! 160, that's my guess. As soon as we get home we're putting you on the scale."
"Dad..."
"If you keep this up you're going to be the floor heifer! A real porker! No one's going to want to talk to you."
Eventually he picked up on the fact that I was really hurt by what he was saying and shut the hell up. Then, after I'd thoroughly developed a body image complex and felt like crap trapped in a car with the most important man in my life and wanted to shrivel up, he asks if he can take me out to dinner. Yeah. As if I felt like looking at food right then. After comparing my body to livestock he expected me to sit with him and have a meal. It was awful. I had to force every bite down.
Oh, and he wasn't joking about putting me on the scale. As soon as I had set my bags down he went to get it and set it down in the middle of the living room so HE could read it, too.
The magic number? 142.
Then over winter break of this past school year I got a call from my old boss saying they could use some help with inventory. I jumped at tthe chance to make some extra money. When I walked in one of my old coworkers looked at me like I was a complete stranger. Then she exclaimed "Oh! Catherine! I didn't recognize you! You gained weight!" I didn't really know how to respond to a comment like that. What do you say when someone you worked with for two years doesn't recognize you because of how much fatter you've gotten? I think I went with something like "Um, yeah..." and after a hug and an uncomfortable pause she added "That's OK, you needed it. So how've you been?!"
Later, my boss's husband, who does the book keeping, came in. He's a retired chemist and is about 75 or 80. We were all eating lunch, talking about this and that when all of a sudden he says, "Catherine, you look different. Have you put on a few pounds?" I blushed and said "Um, yeah..." again and looked around awkwardly. He said "Mm hmm...well, you look good...doesnt' she look good everyone?" to which there was the expected "Oh! Yeah, of course!" from everyone who was there.
Now do you get it?
I'm getting sick of everyone I know being so confused as to why I'm so sensitive about my weight.
I used to weigh about 115 or 120. Now I'm between 130 and 135. I realize that it's a pretty healthy weight for a woman my age and height to be, but I was underweight my whole life and adjusting has not been fun. Gaining weight like that doesn't just make you go up a pants size. It does things to your body that suck. Your skin stretches out and you aren't as smooth and firm as you used to be. And the thing I hate most about it is seeing people I haven't seen since I was 120 lbs. A couple of examples come to mind.
When my dad came to pick me up from my first semester at Madison he walked into the lobby of my dorm where I was waiting for him with all my friends from my floor. Everything was normal unti lwe got in the car alone and my dad did a complete personality U-turn.
"Oh my GOD, Catherine, what has happened to you?!"
"What?"
"Look at you! You must've gained like 30 lbs this semester!"
"What--no I haven't!"
"When I walked in and saw you sitting there I wanted to scream and point at your stomach! Look at it! It's like there's half a basketball strapped to your midsection!"
"Dad. Shut up."
"Seriously! I would have screamed, too, if your friends weren't there. I'll bet your pants are getting tighter, aren't they? Aren't they?"
"Well, yeah..."
"Jesus, Catherine, I cannoth believe this. How much do you weigh now?"
"I don't know."
"C'mon."
"Seriously, I don't know."
"I'll bet you weigh 160 pounds."
"What?! I do not!"
"I'll bet you do! 160, that's my guess. As soon as we get home we're putting you on the scale."
"Dad..."
"If you keep this up you're going to be the floor heifer! A real porker! No one's going to want to talk to you."
Eventually he picked up on the fact that I was really hurt by what he was saying and shut the hell up. Then, after I'd thoroughly developed a body image complex and felt like crap trapped in a car with the most important man in my life and wanted to shrivel up, he asks if he can take me out to dinner. Yeah. As if I felt like looking at food right then. After comparing my body to livestock he expected me to sit with him and have a meal. It was awful. I had to force every bite down.
Oh, and he wasn't joking about putting me on the scale. As soon as I had set my bags down he went to get it and set it down in the middle of the living room so HE could read it, too.
The magic number? 142.
Then over winter break of this past school year I got a call from my old boss saying they could use some help with inventory. I jumped at tthe chance to make some extra money. When I walked in one of my old coworkers looked at me like I was a complete stranger. Then she exclaimed "Oh! Catherine! I didn't recognize you! You gained weight!" I didn't really know how to respond to a comment like that. What do you say when someone you worked with for two years doesn't recognize you because of how much fatter you've gotten? I think I went with something like "Um, yeah..." and after a hug and an uncomfortable pause she added "That's OK, you needed it. So how've you been?!"
Later, my boss's husband, who does the book keeping, came in. He's a retired chemist and is about 75 or 80. We were all eating lunch, talking about this and that when all of a sudden he says, "Catherine, you look different. Have you put on a few pounds?" I blushed and said "Um, yeah..." again and looked around awkwardly. He said "Mm hmm...well, you look good...doesnt' she look good everyone?" to which there was the expected "Oh! Yeah, of course!" from everyone who was there.
Now do you get it?
A few of my fears
spiders
earwigs
angry guys
TA's
upset guys
getting divorced
being a parent
not finding a career
falling down stairs
answering questions in class
*section omitted*
Sometimes I think I'm guaranteed to get divorced. My parents were the worst example of what married life is. They rarely talked, didn't collaborate on punish us (Mom took care of that), didn't really spend any time together, and slept in separate bedrooms for years. They shared a king size bed for a while and I found out that it was so my mom could be further away from my dad. Nice. They never touched each other, didn't sit next to each other on the couch, nothing. I remember there was some special event at the house once- anniversary maybe?- and one of them gave the other a nice card or something and they hugged each other. I freaked out. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and was completely horrified. If I remember correctly, I ran to my bedroom crying. My parents came in to see what was wrong and I told them that I didn't want them to hug anymore. That is so sick and I hope that I'm never in a relationship where there is so little between us that my kids cry when I hug the man I'm supposed to love. They bickered all the time, too. Growing up with that as the norm, I'm afraid I won't recognize when I've reached that point because it won't feel wrong to me. I will have created what my image of marriage was when I was grwooing up: a cold, hateful, horrible thing that kills peoples' spirits. It sucks for everyone involved. I don't want that.
earwigs
angry guys
TA's
upset guys
getting divorced
being a parent
not finding a career
falling down stairs
answering questions in class
*section omitted*
Sometimes I think I'm guaranteed to get divorced. My parents were the worst example of what married life is. They rarely talked, didn't collaborate on punish us (Mom took care of that), didn't really spend any time together, and slept in separate bedrooms for years. They shared a king size bed for a while and I found out that it was so my mom could be further away from my dad. Nice. They never touched each other, didn't sit next to each other on the couch, nothing. I remember there was some special event at the house once- anniversary maybe?- and one of them gave the other a nice card or something and they hugged each other. I freaked out. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and was completely horrified. If I remember correctly, I ran to my bedroom crying. My parents came in to see what was wrong and I told them that I didn't want them to hug anymore. That is so sick and I hope that I'm never in a relationship where there is so little between us that my kids cry when I hug the man I'm supposed to love. They bickered all the time, too. Growing up with that as the norm, I'm afraid I won't recognize when I've reached that point because it won't feel wrong to me. I will have created what my image of marriage was when I was grwooing up: a cold, hateful, horrible thing that kills peoples' spirits. It sucks for everyone involved. I don't want that.
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