Humans had become very distrustful, it seemed.
A centuries-old genie was presenting three humans with, what he thought, was an amazing opportunity. During an amateur fossil hunt, they had stumbled upon his lamp and while cleaning their find, evoked the jinn.
"Purely on accident," they insisted "so sorry to have woken you."
The genie was used to humans being demanding and ungrateful so he found the courtesy shown to be a pleasant surprise. He assured them it was no problem at all, he'd been eager to stretch his legs for some time now,and happily offered his services to what appeared to be a group of very nice people.
"As you may already know from lore, I am able to grant three wishes. Unfortunately, I may only grant three at a time so you will have to split the wishes amongst yourselves. One wish per individual is still not so bad, though!" He cheerily exclaimed, not without hope that this group would be the ones to finally use one of their wishes to free him from his servitude.
Instead, they had responded with suspicion.
"Where are the loopholes?" One middle-aged man wearing too-large spectacles and freshly-pressed khakis asked.
"Loopholes?"
"Yes, you know, loopholes. For example, if I wish for immortality will I be condemning myself?"
"What? Condemning yourself? I don't think I underst-"
"If I choose immortality, I will have to watch the ones I love wither away, yes? Suppose I am able to wish for my own immortality as well as that of another! Would this be possible?"
"Ah! But who would you choose?" The other man interjected before the genie could respond. He was a stout man of about the same age, perhaps a few years older, with a thick, gray mustache. "Even if you chose someone you think you truly love now, whose to say you won't tire of them in time? My goodness, Elizabeth and I have only been together for 20 years and she already drives me crazy!" He nearly yelled with mirth.
The genie opened his mouth to speak when the other human, a woman in her mid-to-late thirties with wild, dirty blonde hair spoke.
"While all that may be true, you would have a million lifetimes of new love to compensate for it! What a romantic possibility!"
"Indeed it is! But there are other factors involved here. Tell me, genie, if I am to become immortal and there is a horrible disaster that leads to the end of Earth as we know it, what happens to me then?"
"I cannot grant immortality" The magical being said, relieved to finally having gotten a word in. "I technically could, but I would not on sheer principle. Anyone wishing for immortality would be forced to take my place inside the lamp. If I were the selfish sort I may want someone to do so that I may be released from my prison, but my hopes are that one day someone, out of the kindness of their own heart, will wish to-"
"Ah, that is quite the loophole! Well, what are our other options then? I suppose we may wish for wealth or beauty but even then..."
It was at this point the jinn stopped listening. They obviously had no interest in what he had to say and all kindness they had shown seemed to have been stemmed from a false sense of etiquette. The three discussed their ideas in excited tones, pointing out the specifics that could go horribly wrong in each scenario. As they did so, the genie amused himself by drawing figures in the dirt with a stick he had found. About an hour passed and he had completed a fairly detailed portrait of his late wife when they called for him.
"Oh, Genie! Yoohoo! We've made our decision."
Although he had realized his chances were slim, his ears perked up at the prospect of being freed.
"Yes! What may I do for you, my masters?"
"We would each like to order a nice lunch, please. I would like a chipotle chicken club on wheat, light mayo and easy on the tomato. Oh, and just a sparkling water with lemon to drink."
The genie stared expressionlessly at the bespectacled man. He had been forced to do many thing during his stay in the lamp, but play waiter was not one of them.
The frizzy-haired woman must have taken his silence for patience and began her own order.
"I would just love a veggie wrap with avocado ranch and a diet soda...oh, you know what? I've been good, I think I'll splurge a little! Give me a regular soda." She smiled with self-satisfaction at her choice and made a hand motion towards her portly companion.
"Well, let's see here...I'm not really all that hungry at the moment," He trailed off while stroking his facial hair, "so I suppose I'll just have bruschetta and a sweet tea."
After another period of silence the genie finally spoke.
"You want...lunch?"
"Yes, I thought we made that clear. Would you like us to repeat our orders?"
"No, I just-"
"Oh! And nothing of this meal must be harmful to anyone at all! This means nothing we are allergic to and nothing poisonous."
"What? Of course! I would never-"
"A table to eat on would be lovely, as well. If it's not too much to ask, of course."
"And chairs! Don't forget chairs!"
"Ah yes! Chairs! Also, if you could make my sandwich with free-range chicken, that would be great."
The genie, too much in shock to do anything else, summoned their meals on a decent-enough looking dining table and took his leave back into his lamp. The meal was indeed, very good. Not the best they had ever had, but they all agreed it was much better than the little Italian place they sometimes spent their lunch breaks at. They all felt very pleased with the fact that they had managed to avoid an unfortunate fate based on a technicality and toasted their drinks to their own wit. Their delight, however, was ended abruptly when they remembered they had been horribly lost in the desert for about 3 hours and no one had thought to wish for a map.
Note: I rarely write fiction, so go easy on me.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
7 types of Facebook friends
The title of this one is pretty self-explanatory. I'm pretty confident in the accuracy of this list, only stopping to point out that some people don't fit into just one of these categories. I would also like to preface this by saying I am, by no means, an expert on social networking, people, or pretty much anything. There's bound to be a few people who are offended, but whatever. I did it for the lulz.
The under-educated and over-opinionated
I begin with this one because I perhaps make the cruelest judgement of these people and why not start off with a bang, right? You all know these people, chances are you've been one at some point in your life. Like, when you're very drunk or very 14-years-old. Other than that, there are no excuses. When I speak of these plebians, I am specifically referring to self-righteous proclamations with little to no logic behind them. These are usually, but not always racist, homophobic, sexist, religiously intolerant, classist, ageist or etc. I don't expect people to hold the same beliefs as I do (you know, that everyone is equal or some shit. Crazy, right?) but I DO expect people to do at least a little reading before they make absurd claims. I don't even bother responding to these people because it never gets you anywhere. They just use the same flawed logic until they feel they have "won" or they propose you "agree to disagree". No, I won't do that. Because you're wrong.
Not only that, but the under-educated and over-opinionated have the tendency to be hypocrites. This means one day they may be ridiculing the type of clothing they see someone wearing or how someone's accent sounds, then the next they are posting a status that is something along the lines of this: "ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I AM!!! GOD MADE ME THIS WAY, IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I LOOK LIKE OR WHAT I WEAR! I'M ME!!" Immediately after seeing a misguided status like this, I audibly express frustration every single time. The only other thing that involves Facebook that makes me yell (so angrily that people have been known to come to my aid mistaking it for a cry of pain) is Robot Unicorn Attack. If you have managed to make me so mad that it outweighs the fury of crashing into a wall during a particularly high score, you are a major fuckwit.
I would like to point out that there are a good number of people who do this sort of thing that do, in fact, hold the same views has I. Idiots come in all shapes and sizes.
Parents
We all wish our parents never heard about Facebook. Even if you love them and legitimately think they're cool people, you don't want them to "friend" you. I will use my own mother as a direct example, as her behavior is not uncommon as far as parental use of Facebook goes. Here is some recent activity:
Ma, no one cares that you cleaned your kitchen. Like, no one. Also, do not say "goodnight" to Facebook. It is a website, not a baby. Lastly, you have no idea how to use ellipses. I know if I don't specify what I am talking about tomorrow you will say "I read your thing. What are ellipses and why are you so mean?!" so here is a link for your use: http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/ellipsis.aspx
That kind of status isn't actually that bad, it doesn't annoy me past eyeroll level. What does, however, is when she contacts my friends when she can't get in touch with me. When I was living in Philadelphia and she was living in Florida, I would miss her calls a lot and maybe not call back right away. I was always losing my phone charger or the phone itself and I've always slept really crazy hours (sometimes I will not sleep for days and others I will sleep for 14 hours straight). Needless to say, it usually took me a day or two to get back to her. Regardless of the fact that she kind of expected it at this point, she would freak out every time she didn't hear back from me within about 4 hours. Freaking out means posting on my friends' walls or sending them messages. I can't even tell you how many times I've had friends walk into my apartment saying "Call your mom" as their greeting.
The worst, though, is the tagged photos. Dear lord, the tagged photos! I worked so hard to transform myself from the ugly duckling I was ages 5-16 to the mildly attractive goose I am today, I don't need my mom/extended family tagging me in photos like this:
I didn't even like soccer that much.
Clever assholes begging for attention through humor
For the record, I'd like to state that I love these people and probably fall into this category the most, myself. I have a ton of awesome comedian/writer/generally intelligent sarcastic friends to provide me with the lulz but being similar to them in my thinking style, they are completely transparent to me. I have never encountered such insecurity as I have with smart, funny people. These are your friends who post interesting photos with hilarious captions, witty statuses, and biting responses. They are brilliant and they know it. The problem with being brilliant, however, is that you're more likely to recognize your own flaws therefore becoming more likely to seek validation from others. In a nutshell, here is this person's general line of thinking: "Yes, I am an asshole. But look how funny I am! Don't you want to like my status? Does that mean you like me now? ARE YOU PROUD OF ME NOW, DAD?"
Over 9000 statuses a day users
I don't have much to say on this subject other than: Holy crap, do we really need a constant update on your life? Oh, you just went food shopping? That's nice. I don't give a shit, that's what Twitter is for.
Morons who talk about their significant others way too much
I think we've all been guilty of spending a little too much time describing how good our partner is at Rock Band or how amazing their Chicken Marsala recipe is, that's normal when you feel a certain amount of affection for another. The difference is how publicly we discuss this kind of thing and at what frequency. When I see people repeatedly posting statuses about their boyfriend/girlfriend/etc, I automatically think "Their relationship must suck and they are trying to compensate for it with PDA." I realize this is probably extremely presumptuous and a little heartless, but I myself, am extremely presumptuous and a little heartless.
I actually really enjoy the occasional "So-and-so is so amazing, he/she did this today and I love him/her!". It gives me hope in the idea that romance is not dead and I don't feel the overwhelming urge to drink myself to sleep as much that night because life is not so bleak and unforgiving as initially thought! However, when it is done to the extent where it appears forced, it does the exact opposite. In fact, when I come across something like this, I am much more likely to go rummaging in the cabinets for liquor.
Young mothers/fathers who use their babies as accessories
There is a bit of a running gag that people should be subjected to an IQ test before they are allowed to have children. This is flawed, unfortunately, as I know plenty of "stupid" people who make damn good parents. Intelligence and common sense are two entirely different things. I propose, instead, we administer a simple, one question test consisting of only the following: Do you think your infant is a purse?
Taking pictures of your offspring is by no means wrong or strange. Seeing the growth of a child through time can be rewarding for many. Be that as it may, taking bathroom mirror pics while holding your baby and making a "sexy" face strikes me as a little odd. Ladies and gentleman (and those in between), please don't use your children as a cry for attention. It's kind of pathetic. It's not uncommon for these parents to also be the type of people who regularly update their statuses with details on how drunk they got the previous night. There is nothing wrong with letting loose once in awhile but once you're knocked up, it's time to let go of your party girl/boy image. Especially if your little one is old enough to check out your tagged photos. No one wants to see Mommy taking body shots.
Those who use Facebook as a soapbox
I saved this one for last as I knew it'd be the hardest for me to write. Why is that, you ask? Because these are the people I am most connected with and the most afraid to offend. Those who use Facebook as a means to "get the truth out" are inspiring to me. They truly do not give a fuck if people think they are crazy/disagree with what they believe in. But holy crap do they make me feel guilty. Whenever I click "not attending" to an invite for a community outreach workshop or I ignore a petition to save the whales, I feel as though I am a terrible parasite to society. I've made calls for Greenpeace, donated time and money to various causes I support, I get daily emails from the ACLU and text messages from the Human Rights Campaign. SEE, I'M A GOOD PERSON, I CARE ABOUT STUFF OR WHATEVER! I do feel like I have an obligation to take action and there's always more I can be doing but sometimes I just really don't feel like reading my friend's 4-page manifesto or watch their 20-minute long video on the benefits of eating gluten-free. I care about this stuff, I really do! But man, sometimes a girl just wants to watch a video of a llama getting tickled...and if that's wrong, I don't want to be right.
I've been trying to update this, no really, I have. I've been so exhausted and stressed that every attempt just turned into some melodramatic prose, but I gots me a nap and now I'm rarin' to go, yeeeehaaaaaaw!
The under-educated and over-opinionated
I begin with this one because I perhaps make the cruelest judgement of these people and why not start off with a bang, right? You all know these people, chances are you've been one at some point in your life. Like, when you're very drunk or very 14-years-old. Other than that, there are no excuses. When I speak of these plebians, I am specifically referring to self-righteous proclamations with little to no logic behind them. These are usually, but not always racist, homophobic, sexist, religiously intolerant, classist, ageist or etc. I don't expect people to hold the same beliefs as I do (you know, that everyone is equal or some shit. Crazy, right?) but I DO expect people to do at least a little reading before they make absurd claims. I don't even bother responding to these people because it never gets you anywhere. They just use the same flawed logic until they feel they have "won" or they propose you "agree to disagree". No, I won't do that. Because you're wrong.
Not only that, but the under-educated and over-opinionated have the tendency to be hypocrites. This means one day they may be ridiculing the type of clothing they see someone wearing or how someone's accent sounds, then the next they are posting a status that is something along the lines of this: "ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I AM!!! GOD MADE ME THIS WAY, IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I LOOK LIKE OR WHAT I WEAR! I'M ME!!" Immediately after seeing a misguided status like this, I audibly express frustration every single time. The only other thing that involves Facebook that makes me yell (so angrily that people have been known to come to my aid mistaking it for a cry of pain) is Robot Unicorn Attack. If you have managed to make me so mad that it outweighs the fury of crashing into a wall during a particularly high score, you are a major fuckwit.
I would like to point out that there are a good number of people who do this sort of thing that do, in fact, hold the same views has I. Idiots come in all shapes and sizes.
Parents
We all wish our parents never heard about Facebook. Even if you love them and legitimately think they're cool people, you don't want them to "friend" you. I will use my own mother as a direct example, as her behavior is not uncommon as far as parental use of Facebook goes. Here is some recent activity:
Ma, no one cares that you cleaned your kitchen. Like, no one. Also, do not say "goodnight" to Facebook. It is a website, not a baby. Lastly, you have no idea how to use ellipses. I know if I don't specify what I am talking about tomorrow you will say "I read your thing. What are ellipses and why are you so mean?!" so here is a link for your use: http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/ellipsis.aspx
That kind of status isn't actually that bad, it doesn't annoy me past eyeroll level. What does, however, is when she contacts my friends when she can't get in touch with me. When I was living in Philadelphia and she was living in Florida, I would miss her calls a lot and maybe not call back right away. I was always losing my phone charger or the phone itself and I've always slept really crazy hours (sometimes I will not sleep for days and others I will sleep for 14 hours straight). Needless to say, it usually took me a day or two to get back to her. Regardless of the fact that she kind of expected it at this point, she would freak out every time she didn't hear back from me within about 4 hours. Freaking out means posting on my friends' walls or sending them messages. I can't even tell you how many times I've had friends walk into my apartment saying "Call your mom" as their greeting.
The worst, though, is the tagged photos. Dear lord, the tagged photos! I worked so hard to transform myself from the ugly duckling I was ages 5-16 to the mildly attractive goose I am today, I don't need my mom/extended family tagging me in photos like this:
I didn't even like soccer that much.
Clever assholes begging for attention through humor
For the record, I'd like to state that I love these people and probably fall into this category the most, myself. I have a ton of awesome comedian/writer/generally intelligent sarcastic friends to provide me with the lulz but being similar to them in my thinking style, they are completely transparent to me. I have never encountered such insecurity as I have with smart, funny people. These are your friends who post interesting photos with hilarious captions, witty statuses, and biting responses. They are brilliant and they know it. The problem with being brilliant, however, is that you're more likely to recognize your own flaws therefore becoming more likely to seek validation from others. In a nutshell, here is this person's general line of thinking: "Yes, I am an asshole. But look how funny I am! Don't you want to like my status? Does that mean you like me now? ARE YOU PROUD OF ME NOW, DAD?"
Over 9000 statuses a day users
I don't have much to say on this subject other than: Holy crap, do we really need a constant update on your life? Oh, you just went food shopping? That's nice. I don't give a shit, that's what Twitter is for.
Morons who talk about their significant others way too much
I think we've all been guilty of spending a little too much time describing how good our partner is at Rock Band or how amazing their Chicken Marsala recipe is, that's normal when you feel a certain amount of affection for another. The difference is how publicly we discuss this kind of thing and at what frequency. When I see people repeatedly posting statuses about their boyfriend/girlfriend/etc, I automatically think "Their relationship must suck and they are trying to compensate for it with PDA." I realize this is probably extremely presumptuous and a little heartless, but I myself, am extremely presumptuous and a little heartless.
I actually really enjoy the occasional "So-and-so is so amazing, he/she did this today and I love him/her!". It gives me hope in the idea that romance is not dead and I don't feel the overwhelming urge to drink myself to sleep as much that night because life is not so bleak and unforgiving as initially thought! However, when it is done to the extent where it appears forced, it does the exact opposite. In fact, when I come across something like this, I am much more likely to go rummaging in the cabinets for liquor.
Young mothers/fathers who use their babies as accessories
There is a bit of a running gag that people should be subjected to an IQ test before they are allowed to have children. This is flawed, unfortunately, as I know plenty of "stupid" people who make damn good parents. Intelligence and common sense are two entirely different things. I propose, instead, we administer a simple, one question test consisting of only the following: Do you think your infant is a purse?
Taking pictures of your offspring is by no means wrong or strange. Seeing the growth of a child through time can be rewarding for many. Be that as it may, taking bathroom mirror pics while holding your baby and making a "sexy" face strikes me as a little odd. Ladies and gentleman (and those in between), please don't use your children as a cry for attention. It's kind of pathetic. It's not uncommon for these parents to also be the type of people who regularly update their statuses with details on how drunk they got the previous night. There is nothing wrong with letting loose once in awhile but once you're knocked up, it's time to let go of your party girl/boy image. Especially if your little one is old enough to check out your tagged photos. No one wants to see Mommy taking body shots.
Those who use Facebook as a soapbox
I saved this one for last as I knew it'd be the hardest for me to write. Why is that, you ask? Because these are the people I am most connected with and the most afraid to offend. Those who use Facebook as a means to "get the truth out" are inspiring to me. They truly do not give a fuck if people think they are crazy/disagree with what they believe in. But holy crap do they make me feel guilty. Whenever I click "not attending" to an invite for a community outreach workshop or I ignore a petition to save the whales, I feel as though I am a terrible parasite to society. I've made calls for Greenpeace, donated time and money to various causes I support, I get daily emails from the ACLU and text messages from the Human Rights Campaign. SEE, I'M A GOOD PERSON, I CARE ABOUT STUFF OR WHATEVER! I do feel like I have an obligation to take action and there's always more I can be doing but sometimes I just really don't feel like reading my friend's 4-page manifesto or watch their 20-minute long video on the benefits of eating gluten-free. I care about this stuff, I really do! But man, sometimes a girl just wants to watch a video of a llama getting tickled...and if that's wrong, I don't want to be right.
I've been trying to update this, no really, I have. I've been so exhausted and stressed that every attempt just turned into some melodramatic prose, but I gots me a nap and now I'm rarin' to go, yeeeehaaaaaaw!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Florida in a nutshell
As of yesterday, I have been in Florida for 3 months. It's been quite an interesting period for me. The first month was spent half in a haze of depression/loneliness and half in a state of excitement. Tiny lizards? Awesome! Sunshine? Awesome! Booze sold everywhere? Double awesome! Since then I've kind of settled into "Florida life", although the novelty as not fully worn off yet.
But I digress, what I really wanted to talk about are the types of people I have observed while living here. I've come to the conclusion that there are three categories the residents of my area can be grouped into:
1. Mid-life crisis transplants
Mid-life crisis transplants probably hold the biggest market of the population. No matter where you live, chances are you've encountered them. These are the 40-50 somethings who commonly move to Florida to "start over" after a recent divorce, retirement, drug addiction, or run-in with the law. If you ask them why they chose to do so, however, you will probably get the ever-popular response of "To get away from the cold" as the majority are from the North. With their children all grown, these men and women are usually experiencing their second childhood in the most stereotypical of ways. You can typically find them at bars playing pool, trying to get laid, and laughing way too hard at dirty jokes. But they also waste their days away on beaches, attending rock concerts, buying knick-knacks at flea markets, and driving around in convertibles. They're likely to be afraid of commitment (an after-effect of their failed marriages) yet they're also just as likely to wed a stranger during a trip to Vegas.
Almost every single person I've met that fits into this category adores the state of Florida and couldn't imagine moving. My own mother is a prime example of this.
My mom (Mommadukington the 3rd, if we're going to be formal about it) moved down here about 2 years ago and had been begging me to do so since day one. Everyday in the winter she would call me and ask how the weather was. If I responded with anything other than "It's warm and beautiful! There are children playing and birds chirping! A butterfly is emerging from it's cocoon!" she'd quip "Well, if you came to Florida you'd never have to deal with the snow again!" It became so annoying that I started telling her it was nice out during blizzards. When introducing me to her friends, she'll say something like "This is my daughter, she just moved here from Philly. It only took me two years to get her down here!" Cue laugh-track.
In the time that she lived here and I did not, she would occasionally send me gifts. She sent me magnets with my name on them below dolphins, t-shirts (and one belly shirt) with pictures of kittens and "FLORIDA" in big print on them, a glass bowl with a bag of green sand and the handwritten instructions "POUR SAND IN BOWL. STICK INSECTS IN." She meant incense, of course, but Mommadukes' spelling has never been her strong point. My favorite gift, however, was a music box with figurine penguins playing amongst a seashell background. There was a light you could switch on and it would change colors as the music played. I remember staring at it and thinking "This is very pretty, but why are the penguins in a seashell? Don't they know they are arctic creatures?"
2. Young adults and teenagers who hate Florida
This group is constructed of both natives to the state and transplants alike. With the natives you get the usual "I wanna get outta this town and see the world!" attitude that you'll really get anywhere while the transplants are wistful for their lives before they were towed along here by their parents. The reasons for the dislike are pretty varied; it's too hot, the governor sucks, there's too many bugs/snakes/alligators, the humidity messes with your hair, there's nothing to do.
The last reason "there's nothing to do" is one I would like to focus on. I live in an area where the older crowd and young children heavily outweigh my age group. There are plenty of bars and such, good ones, too, but there aren't many where the general customer base isn't over 40, maybe 35 if I'm being generous. I'm sure this is different in other areas like Miami, for example, but where I live seeing someone in their 20's outside of the fast food joint they work at is pretty rare. The first official day I spent in Florida as a resident, I went to buy a pack of cigarettes at a nearby gas station. When I presented my ID, the attendant looked at me with some suspicion (Yeah, yeah. I look like a 13 year old boy, I get it already!) and asked what part of PA I was from. After explaining I had just moved from Philadelphia to go to school she replied "Oh, you're going to hate it here. There's no young people. No, really. You're going to hate it." Welcome to Florida! The worst part of this story is I was actually in St. Petersburg at the time, which is a significantly "younger" city than where I'm living now.
Admittedly, I don't mind the age difference too much. I like the older crowd. They're fun and always willing to pay for your drinks. I do sometimes long for the dance clubs and binge drinking that comes with having companions my age, though.
While seeing young people is somewhat uncommon, the bulk of them fit into this category. Most of the natives have either never left the state or were forced back to it by necessity and are very resentful for it. Both the natives and transplants are generally more liberal than the majority of residents in the area (an older population usually translates into a more conservative population) and they're pretty resentful about that, too.
Besides what I've actually witnessed, I've come up with my own theory to why transplant teens and 20 somethings may hate Florida: They're tired of watching their mid-life crisis parents grind on anything with a heartbeat. It's gross to watch your mom get low.
3. Proud natives
Proud natives are simultaneously my favorite and least favorite people in Florida. They are some of the nicest and most polite people you will ever meet. And they will always make sure to draw attention to this fact. These are the people who always hold doors, start friendly conversations with strangers, say "please" and "thank you", and are more than willing to do a favor for just about anybody. They also have the tendency to harp on how rude Northerners are which, to do so unwarranted to someone who is from the North, I think is pretty rude in itself. They feel an overwhelming amount of pride from being born in a state that people from other parts of the US flock to and will gladly tell you any bit of Florida's history you'd like to know. Or wouldn't really like to know. Whichever. The information they provide is usually very interesting but goddamn it, if I have to listen to another condescending asshole tell me how inexperienced I am with Florida weather, I am going to explode. Yes, I know, it gets really hot and there are hurricanes. These are new things for me and I will understand soon, can we move on?
One of the most common questions a native will ask me is if I've tried alligator yet. I'm told it tastes like chicken, only chewier. No matter how many times I explain I've heard plenty about the subject and I have no interest in eating it myself, I get a full run-down of how it is prepared and what is to be expected. This conversation isn't nearly as bad as the one described above, as these are people who genuinely want you to understand their culture, but it gets old.
The majority of "proud natives" I've met have been surprisingly smart. It's not as though I was expecting them to be stupid, it's just that there have been particularly intelligent and insightful people I have had the fortune to encounter. Don't get me wrong, there's still tons of idiots. It's going to be like that no matter what part of the world you live. Here, there are pick-up trucks with "Git-R-Done" bumper stickers and douchebags in cargo shorts and sandals. In Philly there are SUVs with spinning rims and douchebags in Jersey Shore-like garb. Small differences.
There is one thing I often wonder about, however. There are many Florida natives that speak with a southern drawl. Everything sounds cooler with a southern accent, I admit. The thing is, I've met natives who have no traces of such. I'm sure that it probably has to do with what part of Florida you grew up in...but there is a small fragment of my mind that questions whether there are people who exaggerate their accents for the benefit of the impressed Northerners.
Overall, I like Florida. I don't love it, but I like it. I can wear tank tops everyday and no one notices how much I sweat because EVERYONE is sweating. There's more nature than I'm used to, the produce is cheaper and tastes better. I got to fall in love here. But just because I like something doesn't mean I'm not going to make fun of it. A lot.
But I digress, what I really wanted to talk about are the types of people I have observed while living here. I've come to the conclusion that there are three categories the residents of my area can be grouped into:
1. Mid-life crisis transplants
Mid-life crisis transplants probably hold the biggest market of the population. No matter where you live, chances are you've encountered them. These are the 40-50 somethings who commonly move to Florida to "start over" after a recent divorce, retirement, drug addiction, or run-in with the law. If you ask them why they chose to do so, however, you will probably get the ever-popular response of "To get away from the cold" as the majority are from the North. With their children all grown, these men and women are usually experiencing their second childhood in the most stereotypical of ways. You can typically find them at bars playing pool, trying to get laid, and laughing way too hard at dirty jokes. But they also waste their days away on beaches, attending rock concerts, buying knick-knacks at flea markets, and driving around in convertibles. They're likely to be afraid of commitment (an after-effect of their failed marriages) yet they're also just as likely to wed a stranger during a trip to Vegas.
Almost every single person I've met that fits into this category adores the state of Florida and couldn't imagine moving. My own mother is a prime example of this.
My mom (Mommadukington the 3rd, if we're going to be formal about it) moved down here about 2 years ago and had been begging me to do so since day one. Everyday in the winter she would call me and ask how the weather was. If I responded with anything other than "It's warm and beautiful! There are children playing and birds chirping! A butterfly is emerging from it's cocoon!" she'd quip "Well, if you came to Florida you'd never have to deal with the snow again!" It became so annoying that I started telling her it was nice out during blizzards. When introducing me to her friends, she'll say something like "This is my daughter, she just moved here from Philly. It only took me two years to get her down here!" Cue laugh-track.
In the time that she lived here and I did not, she would occasionally send me gifts. She sent me magnets with my name on them below dolphins, t-shirts (and one belly shirt) with pictures of kittens and "FLORIDA" in big print on them, a glass bowl with a bag of green sand and the handwritten instructions "POUR SAND IN BOWL. STICK INSECTS IN." She meant incense, of course, but Mommadukes' spelling has never been her strong point. My favorite gift, however, was a music box with figurine penguins playing amongst a seashell background. There was a light you could switch on and it would change colors as the music played. I remember staring at it and thinking "This is very pretty, but why are the penguins in a seashell? Don't they know they are arctic creatures?"
2. Young adults and teenagers who hate Florida
This group is constructed of both natives to the state and transplants alike. With the natives you get the usual "I wanna get outta this town and see the world!" attitude that you'll really get anywhere while the transplants are wistful for their lives before they were towed along here by their parents. The reasons for the dislike are pretty varied; it's too hot, the governor sucks, there's too many bugs/snakes/alligators, the humidity messes with your hair, there's nothing to do.
The last reason "there's nothing to do" is one I would like to focus on. I live in an area where the older crowd and young children heavily outweigh my age group. There are plenty of bars and such, good ones, too, but there aren't many where the general customer base isn't over 40, maybe 35 if I'm being generous. I'm sure this is different in other areas like Miami, for example, but where I live seeing someone in their 20's outside of the fast food joint they work at is pretty rare. The first official day I spent in Florida as a resident, I went to buy a pack of cigarettes at a nearby gas station. When I presented my ID, the attendant looked at me with some suspicion (Yeah, yeah. I look like a 13 year old boy, I get it already!) and asked what part of PA I was from. After explaining I had just moved from Philadelphia to go to school she replied "Oh, you're going to hate it here. There's no young people. No, really. You're going to hate it." Welcome to Florida! The worst part of this story is I was actually in St. Petersburg at the time, which is a significantly "younger" city than where I'm living now.
Admittedly, I don't mind the age difference too much. I like the older crowd. They're fun and always willing to pay for your drinks. I do sometimes long for the dance clubs and binge drinking that comes with having companions my age, though.
While seeing young people is somewhat uncommon, the bulk of them fit into this category. Most of the natives have either never left the state or were forced back to it by necessity and are very resentful for it. Both the natives and transplants are generally more liberal than the majority of residents in the area (an older population usually translates into a more conservative population) and they're pretty resentful about that, too.
Besides what I've actually witnessed, I've come up with my own theory to why transplant teens and 20 somethings may hate Florida: They're tired of watching their mid-life crisis parents grind on anything with a heartbeat. It's gross to watch your mom get low.
3. Proud natives
Proud natives are simultaneously my favorite and least favorite people in Florida. They are some of the nicest and most polite people you will ever meet. And they will always make sure to draw attention to this fact. These are the people who always hold doors, start friendly conversations with strangers, say "please" and "thank you", and are more than willing to do a favor for just about anybody. They also have the tendency to harp on how rude Northerners are which, to do so unwarranted to someone who is from the North, I think is pretty rude in itself. They feel an overwhelming amount of pride from being born in a state that people from other parts of the US flock to and will gladly tell you any bit of Florida's history you'd like to know. Or wouldn't really like to know. Whichever. The information they provide is usually very interesting but goddamn it, if I have to listen to another condescending asshole tell me how inexperienced I am with Florida weather, I am going to explode. Yes, I know, it gets really hot and there are hurricanes. These are new things for me and I will understand soon, can we move on?
One of the most common questions a native will ask me is if I've tried alligator yet. I'm told it tastes like chicken, only chewier. No matter how many times I explain I've heard plenty about the subject and I have no interest in eating it myself, I get a full run-down of how it is prepared and what is to be expected. This conversation isn't nearly as bad as the one described above, as these are people who genuinely want you to understand their culture, but it gets old.
The majority of "proud natives" I've met have been surprisingly smart. It's not as though I was expecting them to be stupid, it's just that there have been particularly intelligent and insightful people I have had the fortune to encounter. Don't get me wrong, there's still tons of idiots. It's going to be like that no matter what part of the world you live. Here, there are pick-up trucks with "Git-R-Done" bumper stickers and douchebags in cargo shorts and sandals. In Philly there are SUVs with spinning rims and douchebags in Jersey Shore-like garb. Small differences.
There is one thing I often wonder about, however. There are many Florida natives that speak with a southern drawl. Everything sounds cooler with a southern accent, I admit. The thing is, I've met natives who have no traces of such. I'm sure that it probably has to do with what part of Florida you grew up in...but there is a small fragment of my mind that questions whether there are people who exaggerate their accents for the benefit of the impressed Northerners.
Overall, I like Florida. I don't love it, but I like it. I can wear tank tops everyday and no one notices how much I sweat because EVERYONE is sweating. There's more nature than I'm used to, the produce is cheaper and tastes better. I got to fall in love here. But just because I like something doesn't mean I'm not going to make fun of it. A lot.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Handsome "average Joe" is down on his luck and needs money for his mother's operation. He kidnaps a wealthy heiress for the ransom. Holed up in his dank, one bedroom apartment they learn they're not so different...and a little about love.
There, I wrote a script for a Lifetime movie. Now where can I pick up my check?
There, I wrote a script for a Lifetime movie. Now where can I pick up my check?
Sunday, May 29, 2011
I will never, ever be cool.
If you watch the news, you know that what’s hot right now is a drug that simultaneously kills brain cells, rots your teeth, gives you wrinkles, makes you crazy, and gets you pregnant. And all your of 12 year old children are huffing it behind the jungle gym.
If you read fashion magazines, you know that what’s hot right now is eating nothing but kale until you are skinny enough to fit into that itchy, wool shawl that makes you look 30 pounds heavier anyway.
If you have ever talked to me for more than 5 minutes, you know that I have no idea what is cool.
The whole “liking something because other people don’t” fixation makes little to no sense to me. Does this mean I shouldn’t be caught dead eating Twizzlers anymore? Or that if I’m seen wearing pants I’ll become a social pariah? I’m not sure if anyone has noticed, but Twizzlers and wearing pants are pretty popular.
I have never been able to keep up with trends. It’s not that I’m some elitist that refuses to take part, it’s just I never really “get it” until it’s too late. I started listening to bands that would be considered emo years after all the scene kids abandoned their black hair dye and jelly bracelets. I only realized how much I liked PBR once the hipsters decided it was too mainstream. All of my friends are posting Facebook statuses in the vein of “Ugh, I’m so tired of dubstep” while I’m left exclaiming “Hey, this Vaski guy is pretty neat!”
It seems like you can only like something if everyone else hates it. This is something I have trouble with, as I have the tendency to like things. Horrible, I know.
If I had to guess what is in right now or what may become the new “it” thing in the future, this is what I would guess:
Oil paintings depicting hardcore bestiality
Poison-laced harmonicas
Dildos made of repurposed vinyl records
Polka
Those sneakers that light up when you walk
Diets consisting only of foods that have been genetically modified
Body hair (this one is actually wishful thinking, I hate shaving)
Dudes in dresses (also wishful thinking, I dig thighs)
I’m kind of just taking a stab in the dark with this list. Maybe stabbing people in the dark is cool, too. You never know. I really hope that at least one of these things become hip. Then, when an old gentleman asks me what’s all the rage with the whippersnappers these days I can respond with confidence and the hope he has delicious caramel candies in his pocket that he will reward me with for being such a nice young lady. Little does he know what a terrible, uncool person I am…haha, gotcha, gramps!
I know I’ll never be chic or contemporary. This is something I was forced to come to terms with in my angsty teenage years. When I was 14, I tried really hard to be a metalhead. I refused to listen to anything that didn’t have a “kick-ass breakdown”. I wore heavy black eyeliner that would streak down my face when I sweat and pants with an unreasonable amount of zippers and chains. I started saying things like “Fuckin’ A” and “Man, you just don’t get it.” At family barbeques, I’d sit inside so that I could keep my complexion a nice pasty white. I put this incredible amount of pressure on myself to fit into this mold and when I finally felt like I had fully embodied this subculture, everyone in my high school was listening to Taking Back Sunday and “skunking” their hair. Now that I am older and (slightly) wiser I have to admit: I never really liked death metal all that much. There are a few bands I love to this day and I’m a big fan of those who are on the border between hard rock and straight metal…but for the most part, death metal kind of just gives me a headache.
After realizing I liked wearing clothes that weren’t strictly black, I drifted into this odd 80s obsessed phase. I began wearing brightly colored plastic hair accessories and a single dangling earring. I can’t even begin to describe how much animal print was incorporated into my wardrobe. At the peak of this atrocity, I chopped all my hair off and dyed it red in an effort to look like Molly Ringwald. After that, I slowly morphed into a sort of modern day hippie, going as far as scribbling peace signs and Fleetwood Mac lyrics on my jeans with permanent markers. I even started going barefoot everywhere, school included. That one stopped abruptly when I saw someone spitting on the hallway floor (besides, I was tired of getting my toes stepped on). When the allure of being a wannabe hippie faded, I thought I was punk for awhile. I replaced pants with plaid skirts and ripped stockings, I knew all the words to my Ramones greatest hits album, I had a ridiculously short, hot pink mohawk, and I briefly dated a shaggy-haired skateboarder who was in this like, super awesome band that you should totally check out on myspace! I thought I was really, really cool. I was a trend-setter! But I just looked like kind of an idiot.
Not only was keeping up with these self-imposed stereotypes tiring, but it eventually dawned on me that none of these things were ever fashionable with my age group and most people just thought I was strange and probably a little creepy. These days my interests reflect what I actually like, not just an urge to rebel against the mainstream or alternatively to fit in with such. On occasion I attempt to look like a normal member of society (to make shoplifting easier, of course). I do the majority of my shopping at thrift stores so I’m always getting “last season’s” clothes. I didn’t grasp what the cool thing (or uncool thing, if you’re a hipster) to do was when I was younger and I certainly don’t now. Trying to do so just seems futile with my low attention span. I still love John Hughes movies, The Ramones, walking around barefoot and I think that I will always have an affinity for both animal prints and knee-high combat boots. Both my mother and my boyfriend think said boots are ridiculous but whatever, they just don’t get it, man!
Point is; I like way too much weird shit to ever commit to a style or fad. Hopefully being a self-loathing, sarcastic bitch will become the new hot thing but until then I guess I’ll just keep being myself and not worry about it.
Point is; I like way too much weird shit to ever commit to a style or fad. Hopefully being a self-loathing, sarcastic bitch will become the new hot thing but until then I guess I’ll just keep being myself and not worry about it.
Friday, May 20, 2011
The Unattainable Pursuit of Beauty: Weight
I apologize to anyone who actually reads this. My lack of updates mostly stems from the belief that my time is better spent reading or doing push-ups these days.
After a pretty eye-opening conversation with my boyfriend, I've been thinking about body image even more than I usually do.
Perhaps a week or two ago, Mike and I decided to spend our day carousing through Barnes and Noble (side note, it's sad times when the closest known bookstore is a large chain the next city over). We ended up in the cafe section of the place, he with a stack of books so large I was impressed by his ability to balance them all and me with the second issue of Sin City and a book of essays called Feed Me!: Writers Dish About Food, Eating, Weight, and Body Image. As far as representation of women goes, these two things are obviously quite different as, if you've never read it, Sin City's depiction of female beauty is pretty stereotypical. Not that I'm necessarily complaining, I'm a huge fan of anything Frank Miller.
So here we were, sitting across one another, reading with no intention of making a purchase. Mike would occasionally read aloud an interesting fact or opinion while I stayed relatively silent, immersed in my graphic novel. When my eyes tired of the monochromatic art, I switched over to Feed Me! and read the first essay entitled "He Called Me Fat; It Set Me Free". A thought rose in my brain, a thought that does so pretty often but I never voice in fear of sounding insensitive or politically incorrect. I considered stifling it for a moment but that would go against my ever increasing practice of radical honesty. So I set my book down and spoke.
"I'm always somewhat torn on how issues of body image are represented. On the one hand, I'm in full support of accepting what a person looks like no matter what and think society's standards are ridiculous. On the other, I feel as though recent portrayal of 'fat' being beautiful in media gives people an excuse to behave gluttonously."
At this point, Mike closed his own book and looked at me quite sternly.
"I don't think you really understand unless you've been big yourself."
I was taken aback by this admission. Unless we are discussing something that directly relates to our relationship or relationships in general, Mike is one of those people who uses cold logic to make his points (which is something I very much like and respect) as opposed to his own emotional experiences. So for him to say something like this, I was totally thrown of balance and forced to see things from a different perspective.
I have not, in fact, ever been "big". The most I've ever weighed is 135lbs and, while this was due to poor diet and inactivity, I have never had a BMI that would be considered overweight for my height. Even so, my weight has fluctuated enough that a number of people have commented upon my recent weight loss. At first, I was thrilled that I suddenly seemed to be more attractive in the general public's eyes. That got old quick. Those making said comments are good people, often people I am close friends with. They mean in it as a compliment but it only serves to slightly devalue my lifestyle change as a superficial matter rather than one based upon health and practicality (for anyone who is unfamiliar, I've been working out and eating better to get in shape for roller derby and parkour). I now have little to no interest in being skinny, I only want to be strong and I don't give a crap how that is reflected in the shape of my body. The point I'm making with this is that it bothered me to know that others apparently noticed a relatively subtle weight change and I can't even imagine what it's like to be judged that way for those who are truly considered to be "big". So no, I really don't understand.
Often times when I think of someone being big and beautiful, I think of my best friend Sabrina. Sabrina and I have been friends since the 8th grade and throughout the years she has gone through too many diets for me to really recall. When you have a body type that is considered to be large, you pretty much have two options for how you portray yourself in our society: You can either be fat with a self-deprecating sense of humor or fat and desperately trying to become skinny. For the first few years I knew her, Sabrina didn't seem to know which one she wanted to be and ended up in some unhealthy middle for a long time. She has always been "loud and obnoxious" and generally considered to be hilarious. She comes off very confident so it was very odd to witness her "eat nothing but Eggo waffles or toast with fake butter spray" phase. During her stint with the South Beach Diet, I was encouraging and even decided to give it ago myself when I thought I could "stand to lose 5 pounds". I'm pretty ashamed of my attitude in the past but alas, that's what being a teenager is all about.
Then, like magic, she didn't care. She didn't care if she was fat. She didn't care if she gained weight or lost it. She still referred to her size in her humor but now it consisted of "I'm fat and I'm hot as shit" jokes. It made me realize that I never really thought of her weight as a flaw, I never considered her to be anything less than beautiful. My concern and encouragement towards her diets came purely from the fear of how she may be perceived by others. Furthermore, if that's where my line of thinking stemmed from, whose to say that's not really how we ALL feel (or at least a strong percentage of us as human beings)? Maybe no one truly finds "fat" unattractive, we just think everyone else does. Her not giving a fuck made me want to not give a fuck. It made me want to accept myself and work towards it everyday. Sabrina unintentionally lead me down the road of healthy body image and as I was teetering over the line of "I still want people to think I'm pretty" and "Who gives a fuck?", Mike gave me that last push.
I am still very much of the opinion that people should treat their bodies well for health issues, but who am I to say what that entails? Perhaps the increase in the our society's average weight is merely human evolution, maybe climate change will soon cause an ice age that will kill off all us skinny bitches leaving the big and beautiful to roam free with no fear of judgement. It doesn't matter how ridiculous that sounds because the point is, it's not my place to decide how a person should live. If I was really as accepting and progressive as I like to think I am, I would never notice what a person was eating or how much exercise they were getting because when it comes down to it, it doesn't affect me in the least (with the exception for someone I cared for that had serious health concerns that were lifestyle related).
These days it makes me genuinely sad to hear my friends discussing dieting or wearing "slimming" clothes. After my conversation with Mike, I notice these things constantly. Men, women, those in between, we are all so image obsessed. Can you imagine what we could get done if we weren't all so busy reading about the benefits pomegranate juice has for your metabolism or cutting carbs? I really wish I could.
If you really want to be healthy, instead of dieting, I suggest you follow this simple guideline from Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
To sum this exceedingly long post up I'd like to share Feed Me!'s I-Love-My-Body Pledge.
"I pledge to speak kindly about my body.
I promise not to talk about the size of my thighs or stomach or butt, or how I have to lose 5 or 15 or 50 pounds. I promise not to call myself a fat pig, gross, or any other self-loathing, trash-talking phrase.
I vow to be kind to myself and my body. I will learn to be thankful for its strength and attractiveness, and be compassionate towards its failings.
I will remind myself that bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and that no matter what shape and size my body is, its worth kindness, compassion, and love."
After a pretty eye-opening conversation with my boyfriend, I've been thinking about body image even more than I usually do.
Perhaps a week or two ago, Mike and I decided to spend our day carousing through Barnes and Noble (side note, it's sad times when the closest known bookstore is a large chain the next city over). We ended up in the cafe section of the place, he with a stack of books so large I was impressed by his ability to balance them all and me with the second issue of Sin City and a book of essays called Feed Me!: Writers Dish About Food, Eating, Weight, and Body Image. As far as representation of women goes, these two things are obviously quite different as, if you've never read it, Sin City's depiction of female beauty is pretty stereotypical. Not that I'm necessarily complaining, I'm a huge fan of anything Frank Miller.
So here we were, sitting across one another, reading with no intention of making a purchase. Mike would occasionally read aloud an interesting fact or opinion while I stayed relatively silent, immersed in my graphic novel. When my eyes tired of the monochromatic art, I switched over to Feed Me! and read the first essay entitled "He Called Me Fat; It Set Me Free". A thought rose in my brain, a thought that does so pretty often but I never voice in fear of sounding insensitive or politically incorrect. I considered stifling it for a moment but that would go against my ever increasing practice of radical honesty. So I set my book down and spoke.
"I'm always somewhat torn on how issues of body image are represented. On the one hand, I'm in full support of accepting what a person looks like no matter what and think society's standards are ridiculous. On the other, I feel as though recent portrayal of 'fat' being beautiful in media gives people an excuse to behave gluttonously."
At this point, Mike closed his own book and looked at me quite sternly.
"I don't think you really understand unless you've been big yourself."
I was taken aback by this admission. Unless we are discussing something that directly relates to our relationship or relationships in general, Mike is one of those people who uses cold logic to make his points (which is something I very much like and respect) as opposed to his own emotional experiences. So for him to say something like this, I was totally thrown of balance and forced to see things from a different perspective.
I have not, in fact, ever been "big". The most I've ever weighed is 135lbs and, while this was due to poor diet and inactivity, I have never had a BMI that would be considered overweight for my height. Even so, my weight has fluctuated enough that a number of people have commented upon my recent weight loss. At first, I was thrilled that I suddenly seemed to be more attractive in the general public's eyes. That got old quick. Those making said comments are good people, often people I am close friends with. They mean in it as a compliment but it only serves to slightly devalue my lifestyle change as a superficial matter rather than one based upon health and practicality (for anyone who is unfamiliar, I've been working out and eating better to get in shape for roller derby and parkour). I now have little to no interest in being skinny, I only want to be strong and I don't give a crap how that is reflected in the shape of my body. The point I'm making with this is that it bothered me to know that others apparently noticed a relatively subtle weight change and I can't even imagine what it's like to be judged that way for those who are truly considered to be "big". So no, I really don't understand.
Often times when I think of someone being big and beautiful, I think of my best friend Sabrina. Sabrina and I have been friends since the 8th grade and throughout the years she has gone through too many diets for me to really recall. When you have a body type that is considered to be large, you pretty much have two options for how you portray yourself in our society: You can either be fat with a self-deprecating sense of humor or fat and desperately trying to become skinny. For the first few years I knew her, Sabrina didn't seem to know which one she wanted to be and ended up in some unhealthy middle for a long time. She has always been "loud and obnoxious" and generally considered to be hilarious. She comes off very confident so it was very odd to witness her "eat nothing but Eggo waffles or toast with fake butter spray" phase. During her stint with the South Beach Diet, I was encouraging and even decided to give it ago myself when I thought I could "stand to lose 5 pounds". I'm pretty ashamed of my attitude in the past but alas, that's what being a teenager is all about.
Then, like magic, she didn't care. She didn't care if she was fat. She didn't care if she gained weight or lost it. She still referred to her size in her humor but now it consisted of "I'm fat and I'm hot as shit" jokes. It made me realize that I never really thought of her weight as a flaw, I never considered her to be anything less than beautiful. My concern and encouragement towards her diets came purely from the fear of how she may be perceived by others. Furthermore, if that's where my line of thinking stemmed from, whose to say that's not really how we ALL feel (or at least a strong percentage of us as human beings)? Maybe no one truly finds "fat" unattractive, we just think everyone else does. Her not giving a fuck made me want to not give a fuck. It made me want to accept myself and work towards it everyday. Sabrina unintentionally lead me down the road of healthy body image and as I was teetering over the line of "I still want people to think I'm pretty" and "Who gives a fuck?", Mike gave me that last push.
I am still very much of the opinion that people should treat their bodies well for health issues, but who am I to say what that entails? Perhaps the increase in the our society's average weight is merely human evolution, maybe climate change will soon cause an ice age that will kill off all us skinny bitches leaving the big and beautiful to roam free with no fear of judgement. It doesn't matter how ridiculous that sounds because the point is, it's not my place to decide how a person should live. If I was really as accepting and progressive as I like to think I am, I would never notice what a person was eating or how much exercise they were getting because when it comes down to it, it doesn't affect me in the least (with the exception for someone I cared for that had serious health concerns that were lifestyle related).
These days it makes me genuinely sad to hear my friends discussing dieting or wearing "slimming" clothes. After my conversation with Mike, I notice these things constantly. Men, women, those in between, we are all so image obsessed. Can you imagine what we could get done if we weren't all so busy reading about the benefits pomegranate juice has for your metabolism or cutting carbs? I really wish I could.
If you really want to be healthy, instead of dieting, I suggest you follow this simple guideline from Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
To sum this exceedingly long post up I'd like to share Feed Me!'s I-Love-My-Body Pledge.
"I pledge to speak kindly about my body.
I promise not to talk about the size of my thighs or stomach or butt, or how I have to lose 5 or 15 or 50 pounds. I promise not to call myself a fat pig, gross, or any other self-loathing, trash-talking phrase.
I vow to be kind to myself and my body. I will learn to be thankful for its strength and attractiveness, and be compassionate towards its failings.
I will remind myself that bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and that no matter what shape and size my body is, its worth kindness, compassion, and love."
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
I don't have much to update on. I've been writing quite often so all of my creativity as been spent elsewhere. I would like to share an awesome article though: http://jezebel.com/5800899/sluts-like-me
"If someone calls you a slut, there's nothing you can say to refute the claim because it never had any cognitive content anyway."
That is all.
"If someone calls you a slut, there's nothing you can say to refute the claim because it never had any cognitive content anyway."
That is all.
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