SI don't know if I have ever mentioned this on either of my blogs, but I am currently working toward a bachelor's degree in psychology. I mention this because it means that even though I am not a fully licensed psychologist, I have taken a few courses and I kno what it means when someone is schizophrenic: it means that they have a psychological disease usually marked by delusions and/or hallucinations. There are more complex and technical criteria that I admittedly can't rattle off without looking through my Abnormal Psych notes, but I do know that "schizophrenic" does not mean "self contradictory".
Schizophrenia is an extremely difficult disease to understand, even for those in the mental health profession. Patients percieve and see things that others do not. They can be dogged by paranoia and thoughts that their caretakers could be trying to harm them. Sometimes they become catatonic, retreating within themselves and not moving for days, weeks, or even longer. Needless to say, communication can be very difficult. The cause could be genetic, environmental, or a combination of both. Treatment is tricky, and sometimes the medication is more difficult to deal with than the disease itself.
The misuderstanding of schizophrenia reaches far back into history. Even after the mentally had stopped being imprisoned and started being treated, the public had begun to understand that "schizophrenic" meant double personalities. It isn't hard to see why. Definitons of mental illness have been written and re-written over the last century, and this constant flux paired with the media success of Sybil and The Three Faces of Eve probably paired multiple personalities with the term. However, it seems that new people have begun to use "schizophrenic" in a way to mean something self-contradictory. This isn't just hearing it on the street either. I've read articles which use the term in this way, and these are articles from otherwise intelligent and informed people.
I realize that terminology is constantly changing. Dumb used to mean someone who was mute, but now it means stupid. Gay used to mean happy and exuberant, but now it means homosexual or is a more unsavory term for stupid (I hate that particular usage). I don't know why people using the word "schizophrenic" annoys me so much. It could be that it is because I am more familiar with the technical and psychological definition, just as I am sure that scientists must get frustrated when people say that they "have a theory" when what they really have is a hypothesis. But really, can we stop using schizophrenic to mean this? I'm afraid that people's perception of the disease will get warped. Again.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Lying to my parents
Parent: "So, how does it feel to be done with this semester?"
Me: "Actually, I still have a paper to write." (this part is true)
Parent:(stern look) "And when is it due?"
Me: "Uh, the 19th" (also true)
Parent: (stern look)
Me: "What? It's mostly written. It just needs some polishing. Unfortunately, it needs a lot of polishing, so I'm going to be working on it the next couple of days."
Translation: By "mostly written" I mean that I have done some research. By "polishing" I mean writing, and by "a lot of polishing" I mean that I need to start writing. And by "working on it the next few days" I mean watching College Humor videos on YouTube. For some reason, I end up watching this one over and over...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZ83EBh3r7g
Me: "Actually, I still have a paper to write." (this part is true)
Parent:(stern look) "And when is it due?"
Me: "Uh, the 19th" (also true)
Parent: (stern look)
Me: "What? It's mostly written. It just needs some polishing. Unfortunately, it needs a lot of polishing, so I'm going to be working on it the next couple of days."
Translation: By "mostly written" I mean that I have done some research. By "polishing" I mean writing, and by "a lot of polishing" I mean that I need to start writing. And by "working on it the next few days" I mean watching College Humor videos on YouTube. For some reason, I end up watching this one over and over...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZ83EBh3r7g
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Turn, turn, turn
I go through many craft obsessions. I am a bit of a craft project polygamist, because at any given time I could have two knitting projects, a crochet project, some cross stitching, and some bobbin lace to work on. Lately I've been in the mood to spin some yarn.
Last year when I visited Webs in Northampton (a yarn store with a 21,000 square foot warehouse out back) I found that they had a little section dedicated to spinning. I had been interested in learning how to spin for a few years so I picked myself up a Louet top-whorl drop spindle and some wool roving at 99 cents per ounce. I left very happy. My first yarn was extremely clumsy and lumpy. As was my second and third. This past summer I ordered another 8 ounces of wool and it got a little better. A month ago I suddenly decided that I needed alpaca wool so I hopped in the car and did an after school trip to the warehouse. The result of this spinning effort was a yarn which vaguely resembles a misshapen worsted weight/chunky variety. This will become a hat. I also picked up a very small bag of local wool from the farmer's market and spun it into a worsted weight yarn in about two hours.
That is the point when I got spin crazy. I had no wool left. On top of that, my awesome friend gave me a brand new Turkish spindle, so now I have two lonely spinning tools with nothing to spin. Sure, I could work on my other projects, but nothing is as satisfying as seeing a fluffy lump of fuzz run between your fingers and turn into a thin strand of yarn. I love stretching out the lumps and feeling the fibers run past each other until the piece is smooth. I love feeling the weight of the spindle and the thrum as it spins. I feel all out of sorts. And besides, the blanket I'm working on is getting fairly large and unwieldy. I would much rather deal with a spindle than about 6 pounds of blanket.
I do have a sort of project to keep the spinning part of my mind active this winter break. In the basement there is a spinning wheel which has belonged to our family for years. The crankshaft is disconnected from the treadle and it's so gummed up with dust it looks gray instead of brown. I don't even know what kind of wheel it is, it's that old. Well, that and I need to seriously educate myself on spinning wheel parts. So that is what I shall do. If possible, I want to fix it up a bit and get it working so that I can learn to use it. Then all that's left is to raise some sheep/alpacas/angora rabbits and then shear the wool, wash it, card it, and then I can start spinning. I think I have more work to do...
Last year when I visited Webs in Northampton (a yarn store with a 21,000 square foot warehouse out back) I found that they had a little section dedicated to spinning. I had been interested in learning how to spin for a few years so I picked myself up a Louet top-whorl drop spindle and some wool roving at 99 cents per ounce. I left very happy. My first yarn was extremely clumsy and lumpy. As was my second and third. This past summer I ordered another 8 ounces of wool and it got a little better. A month ago I suddenly decided that I needed alpaca wool so I hopped in the car and did an after school trip to the warehouse. The result of this spinning effort was a yarn which vaguely resembles a misshapen worsted weight/chunky variety. This will become a hat. I also picked up a very small bag of local wool from the farmer's market and spun it into a worsted weight yarn in about two hours.
That is the point when I got spin crazy. I had no wool left. On top of that, my awesome friend gave me a brand new Turkish spindle, so now I have two lonely spinning tools with nothing to spin. Sure, I could work on my other projects, but nothing is as satisfying as seeing a fluffy lump of fuzz run between your fingers and turn into a thin strand of yarn. I love stretching out the lumps and feeling the fibers run past each other until the piece is smooth. I love feeling the weight of the spindle and the thrum as it spins. I feel all out of sorts. And besides, the blanket I'm working on is getting fairly large and unwieldy. I would much rather deal with a spindle than about 6 pounds of blanket.
I do have a sort of project to keep the spinning part of my mind active this winter break. In the basement there is a spinning wheel which has belonged to our family for years. The crankshaft is disconnected from the treadle and it's so gummed up with dust it looks gray instead of brown. I don't even know what kind of wheel it is, it's that old. Well, that and I need to seriously educate myself on spinning wheel parts. So that is what I shall do. If possible, I want to fix it up a bit and get it working so that I can learn to use it. Then all that's left is to raise some sheep/alpacas/angora rabbits and then shear the wool, wash it, card it, and then I can start spinning. I think I have more work to do...
------------------------
By the way, did you know that there are some crazy spinning fibers out there? There is the usual sheep's wool, alpaca, angora and whatnot. There non-hair fibers like silk and flax. But then you can also get camel, yak, and bison wool (bison runs for about $40 per ounce. Yak is a little cheaper at $20-$30). And then things get really crazy. You can buy milk protein (casein) fiber which I shouldn't get because that's precisely what my boyfriend is allergic to, as well as a blend of 70% merino (sheep) wool, 15% cashmere, and 15% New Zealand common brushtail possum. Yes sir, I can spin myself some possum yarn. Challenge accepted!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Henna'd
In my sophomore year of high school, I went through that phase where I dyed my hair blue. The front sections of my hair next to my face were bleached and then slathered in blue dye, sometimes with multiple applications. My hair became straw-like and the dye would wash out pretty quickly (something about the color molecule being too big for my hair follicle...) so I would be left with tealish/green hair with blonde poking through. Also, my hair grows rather quickly, so I would have brown roots which would then have to be bleached and dyed. Overall, I had an inch of brown, then a couple inches of blonde/green where the dye wouldn't stay, and then faintly blueish/green for the rest of my hair. It was time consuming, expensive, and I didn't really get the affect I wanted. So I switched to purple for a couple of dye sessions and then decided to go back to my natural hair color.
For the last two years, the last remnants of my dyed hair have been growing out and this summer I finally cut them off. No more bleached hair for me! So what did I do to celebrate? Dye it red with henna.
I had been thinking about having the under layer of my hair dyed red for a little while, and when I noticed that henna was relatively cheap at the local health food stores, I decided I might as well. My awesome roommate stayed up with me at 11:30 and applied the greenish-brown gloop to my hair and then wrapped my head in plastic wrap. I don't know if it was because we had no idea what we were doing or if it was because the under layers of my hair are fairly dark, but it didn't show up. So I figured that I might as well dye the rest of it one night in the bathtub of my dorm's bathroom. And I liked it.
I like the results of henna because it adds sort of a red coat around your hair, so you still see a bit of your natural color through it. This also means that the red affect is a bit more subtle and doesn't really look like you just bought a bottle of Manic Panic from Hot Topic. Plus, the henna powder only costs around six dollars. After that all you need is some plastic gloves, plastic wrap, hot water, and some old towels and you have a new hair color for under 15 dollars. Plus, it conditions your hair, so your hair feels all soft and amazing instead of feeling like straw. Win!
One thing I have to say, if you are considering using henna be prepared to get messy. Henna powder is made from the ground leaves of the henna plant, which when mixed with hot water releases a reddish dye which not only stains your hair, but your skin, your clothes, your bathroom tile, and your nails. If you wear clothes while using henna, make sure that they are ones you don't mind getting red splotches all over. If you can, try finding an application bottle or something you can use to squeeze the dye onto your hair with. Both times I've used henna, I've mostly just set down the bowl of dye in front of me and applied it using my hands. It's messy to say the least. Some directions suggest using a paintbrush, but I don't think that will prevent any drips from happening. Also, henna hair dye is a little gritty and it doesn't spread all too easily.
Also, if anyone sees you applying henna, you will look crazy. When prepared, the henna dye looks like those mud masks for your face that are supposed to be really good for you. It looks even crazier on your head. Some people are put off by the smell, which I think is a little like wet straw with coffee. Your hair smells a little grass-like for the next few days, but so far I haven't gotten any complaints. But then again, how many people smell your hair up close during the day?
After your hair is shellacked with the muddy mixture and you've mummified your head in plastic (keep the wrap close by while you're dying), clean the tub or wherever you did the coloring. I recommend dying your hair near an area with a hand-held spray nozzle. The henna will most likely drip everywhere, including on you, and you need to rinse it right away or it will stain. Dry off with old towels and I suggest wearing old clothes until your hair is mostly dry. My pajamas have orange splotches around the collar because the drips stained. As soon as my hair stops dripping, my clothes are safe.
If you don't mind a little mess and want to try out a new color, I would definitely suggest using henna. I even pipped some of the henna paste onto my nails using a plastic bag with the corner cut off. I left it on for a half hour and then wiped off the paste, which left my nails an orangey color which will stay until my nails grow out. I would have left the paste on longer for a redder result, but I was trapped in the bathroom with no computer or any source of entertainment other than to watch my nails dry. Can you blame me?
One last note, I should mention that the finished result of the henna depends on your natural hair color. My hair is a medium brown, and the first time I dyed my hair with henna it worked out to a nice auburn. I used Rainbow Henna in the color Persian Red. This last dye job (which I did a couple of nights ago) has turned out to be a darker red which should mellow out a little bit over the next few days. This time I used Light Mountain Henna in the color "bright red". What's the difference between red and bright red? Bright red has a wolf on the box. Enough said.
Light Mountain Henna color chart
Rainbow Henna color chart
(image from here)
For the last two years, the last remnants of my dyed hair have been growing out and this summer I finally cut them off. No more bleached hair for me! So what did I do to celebrate? Dye it red with henna.
I had been thinking about having the under layer of my hair dyed red for a little while, and when I noticed that henna was relatively cheap at the local health food stores, I decided I might as well. My awesome roommate stayed up with me at 11:30 and applied the greenish-brown gloop to my hair and then wrapped my head in plastic wrap. I don't know if it was because we had no idea what we were doing or if it was because the under layers of my hair are fairly dark, but it didn't show up. So I figured that I might as well dye the rest of it one night in the bathtub of my dorm's bathroom. And I liked it.
I like the results of henna because it adds sort of a red coat around your hair, so you still see a bit of your natural color through it. This also means that the red affect is a bit more subtle and doesn't really look like you just bought a bottle of Manic Panic from Hot Topic. Plus, the henna powder only costs around six dollars. After that all you need is some plastic gloves, plastic wrap, hot water, and some old towels and you have a new hair color for under 15 dollars. Plus, it conditions your hair, so your hair feels all soft and amazing instead of feeling like straw. Win!
One thing I have to say, if you are considering using henna be prepared to get messy. Henna powder is made from the ground leaves of the henna plant, which when mixed with hot water releases a reddish dye which not only stains your hair, but your skin, your clothes, your bathroom tile, and your nails. If you wear clothes while using henna, make sure that they are ones you don't mind getting red splotches all over. If you can, try finding an application bottle or something you can use to squeeze the dye onto your hair with. Both times I've used henna, I've mostly just set down the bowl of dye in front of me and applied it using my hands. It's messy to say the least. Some directions suggest using a paintbrush, but I don't think that will prevent any drips from happening. Also, henna hair dye is a little gritty and it doesn't spread all too easily.
Also, if anyone sees you applying henna, you will look crazy. When prepared, the henna dye looks like those mud masks for your face that are supposed to be really good for you. It looks even crazier on your head. Some people are put off by the smell, which I think is a little like wet straw with coffee. Your hair smells a little grass-like for the next few days, but so far I haven't gotten any complaints. But then again, how many people smell your hair up close during the day?
After your hair is shellacked with the muddy mixture and you've mummified your head in plastic (keep the wrap close by while you're dying), clean the tub or wherever you did the coloring. I recommend dying your hair near an area with a hand-held spray nozzle. The henna will most likely drip everywhere, including on you, and you need to rinse it right away or it will stain. Dry off with old towels and I suggest wearing old clothes until your hair is mostly dry. My pajamas have orange splotches around the collar because the drips stained. As soon as my hair stops dripping, my clothes are safe.
If you don't mind a little mess and want to try out a new color, I would definitely suggest using henna. I even pipped some of the henna paste onto my nails using a plastic bag with the corner cut off. I left it on for a half hour and then wiped off the paste, which left my nails an orangey color which will stay until my nails grow out. I would have left the paste on longer for a redder result, but I was trapped in the bathroom with no computer or any source of entertainment other than to watch my nails dry. Can you blame me?
One last note, I should mention that the finished result of the henna depends on your natural hair color. My hair is a medium brown, and the first time I dyed my hair with henna it worked out to a nice auburn. I used Rainbow Henna in the color Persian Red. This last dye job (which I did a couple of nights ago) has turned out to be a darker red which should mellow out a little bit over the next few days. This time I used Light Mountain Henna in the color "bright red". What's the difference between red and bright red? Bright red has a wolf on the box. Enough said.
Light Mountain Henna color chart
Rainbow Henna color chart
(image from here)
Thursday, November 24, 2011
"I know how this ends, and I'm not going to stay around to watch it."
Oh Jacob, truer words were never spoken.
This Thanksgiving, I was thankful that I got to see Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1. I was also thankful that one of the people who worked at the theater told us to stick around for the credits, but I'll get to that later.
Where to begin? Well, first of all, I'm not a Twilight fan. In fact, I went to this movie hoping for a good laugh, and it didn't disappoint. It had the usual characteristics of the other Twilight movies. The bland acting, Kristin Stewart looking nauseous, Taylor Lautner with his shirt off. Yes, it had all of those. And yet, it had more.
First off, the theme this time around was sex. I know, the whole point of Twilight is sexual tension, the theme of abstinence and all that. Well now the waiting was over, and the the filmmakers didn't want you to forget it. There's a joke about Edward being a virgin (5 min in), someone saying during a toast at the wedding that Bella "won't get too much sleep the next few nights", and then off course Bella going through the film cliche getting ready for sex routine (brush teeth and hair, shave, etc). She tries to seduce Edward with lingerie, has a sexy dream, and ends up pregnant. All signs point to sex. And yet, it wasn't a very sex-positive movie. The whole point of the film (SPOILERS!!!!!) is that Bella gets pregnant with a vampire/human hybrid and almost ends up losing her life because of it. So basically I learned that if you find a handsome guy you really want to have sex with but still wait for a few years until after you are legally married, you will still have to pay the ultimate price for your lust and have a demon baby inside of you which will kill you. Wow, Eve's curse much? This whole movie was like the story of Bluebeard or those other cautionary fairy tales which were made up to make sure that girls kept their virginity. I mean, Bella had the upper hand was actually the sex aggressor, but then the baby snaps her spine like a twig and she almost dies. Girl power!
That was the one thing that really irked me on a conscious level, and the rest of the movie was just hilarious. The acting is bad. Like, really bad. It goes beyond Robert Pattinson saying his lines like he's half asleep. One of the wolf pack, Seth, was truly horrible. I wanted to Blue Skidoo into the film and smack him every time he opened his mouth. And then there was the fact that Jacob "imprinted" on Bella's baby, thereby making it immune to attack from any other werewolves. As Edward explains it, when a werewolf imprints, the others can't hurt it, and this is the only law that the werewolves truly uphold. Well, considering that the last half hour or so of the movie was the werewolves scheming to kill the baby, Bella, or both, I'm inclined to say that the werewolves are upholding the law of plot convenience. Clearly Stephanie Meyer couldn't think of a better way to resolve the issue. I know, it's supposed to be romantic and all that jazz because Jacob can finally stop whining over Bella, but I was actually snickering at this point.
Stephanie Meyer's inability to resolve issues crops up another time when Carlisle, Esmee, and Emmett (Edwards adopted father, mother, and brother) are forced to break through the line of ravenous werewolves in order to go hunting and get Bella the blood her baby craves (just go with me on this). Jacob distracts his former pack-mates long enough for the trio to escape and then everything is hunky dory. Um, what about when they come back? Are the werewolves okay with the vampires coming back but not leaving? Was Jacob going to distract them again? How would that work? WHY DON'T THESE MOVIES FOLLOW ANY SEMBLANCE OF LOGIC!?!
The cherry on top of this sundae was the scene they snuck after the credits. I am so glad that the theater employee told us to stay, because it was a train wreck. Bella had just turned into a vampire and the credits rolled. And then the Big Bad Vampire clan, the Volturi pop up in their lair. There is one who looks like Sméagol, another who looks like Fabio, and then Antony from Sweeny Todd (no, I'm serious). Through my inner rendition of "I Feel You Joanna", I hear the Volturi learn that Bella has been turned, although now they are after her baby. The acting is so over the top and I almost wet my pants when vampire Sméagol said that this went beyond the matter of a "mere hew-man". He sounded like a Ferrengi from Star Trek! Dear god, it was terrible.
I guess I should throw in that the visual effects for the movie were alright. The wolves up close looked pretty cool and Bella turning looked pretty good. However, I doubt that becoming a vampire suddenly means that you are wearing eyeshadow, but what do I know. Also, it sort of looked like the opening to Fight Club for me, but I was probably trying to remember what a good movie looks like at that point.
All in all, Breaking Dawn Part 1 lived up to my expectations....that it was going to suck. If you hate Twilight, go see this movie.
(image from here)
This Thanksgiving, I was thankful that I got to see Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1. I was also thankful that one of the people who worked at the theater told us to stick around for the credits, but I'll get to that later.
Where to begin? Well, first of all, I'm not a Twilight fan. In fact, I went to this movie hoping for a good laugh, and it didn't disappoint. It had the usual characteristics of the other Twilight movies. The bland acting, Kristin Stewart looking nauseous, Taylor Lautner with his shirt off. Yes, it had all of those. And yet, it had more.
First off, the theme this time around was sex. I know, the whole point of Twilight is sexual tension, the theme of abstinence and all that. Well now the waiting was over, and the the filmmakers didn't want you to forget it. There's a joke about Edward being a virgin (5 min in), someone saying during a toast at the wedding that Bella "won't get too much sleep the next few nights", and then off course Bella going through the film cliche getting ready for sex routine (brush teeth and hair, shave, etc). She tries to seduce Edward with lingerie, has a sexy dream, and ends up pregnant. All signs point to sex. And yet, it wasn't a very sex-positive movie. The whole point of the film (SPOILERS!!!!!) is that Bella gets pregnant with a vampire/human hybrid and almost ends up losing her life because of it. So basically I learned that if you find a handsome guy you really want to have sex with but still wait for a few years until after you are legally married, you will still have to pay the ultimate price for your lust and have a demon baby inside of you which will kill you. Wow, Eve's curse much? This whole movie was like the story of Bluebeard or those other cautionary fairy tales which were made up to make sure that girls kept their virginity. I mean, Bella had the upper hand was actually the sex aggressor, but then the baby snaps her spine like a twig and she almost dies. Girl power!
That was the one thing that really irked me on a conscious level, and the rest of the movie was just hilarious. The acting is bad. Like, really bad. It goes beyond Robert Pattinson saying his lines like he's half asleep. One of the wolf pack, Seth, was truly horrible. I wanted to Blue Skidoo into the film and smack him every time he opened his mouth. And then there was the fact that Jacob "imprinted" on Bella's baby, thereby making it immune to attack from any other werewolves. As Edward explains it, when a werewolf imprints, the others can't hurt it, and this is the only law that the werewolves truly uphold. Well, considering that the last half hour or so of the movie was the werewolves scheming to kill the baby, Bella, or both, I'm inclined to say that the werewolves are upholding the law of plot convenience. Clearly Stephanie Meyer couldn't think of a better way to resolve the issue. I know, it's supposed to be romantic and all that jazz because Jacob can finally stop whining over Bella, but I was actually snickering at this point.
Stephanie Meyer's inability to resolve issues crops up another time when Carlisle, Esmee, and Emmett (Edwards adopted father, mother, and brother) are forced to break through the line of ravenous werewolves in order to go hunting and get Bella the blood her baby craves (just go with me on this). Jacob distracts his former pack-mates long enough for the trio to escape and then everything is hunky dory. Um, what about when they come back? Are the werewolves okay with the vampires coming back but not leaving? Was Jacob going to distract them again? How would that work? WHY DON'T THESE MOVIES FOLLOW ANY SEMBLANCE OF LOGIC!?!
The cherry on top of this sundae was the scene they snuck after the credits. I am so glad that the theater employee told us to stay, because it was a train wreck. Bella had just turned into a vampire and the credits rolled. And then the Big Bad Vampire clan, the Volturi pop up in their lair. There is one who looks like Sméagol, another who looks like Fabio, and then Antony from Sweeny Todd (no, I'm serious). Through my inner rendition of "I Feel You Joanna", I hear the Volturi learn that Bella has been turned, although now they are after her baby. The acting is so over the top and I almost wet my pants when vampire Sméagol said that this went beyond the matter of a "mere hew-man". He sounded like a Ferrengi from Star Trek! Dear god, it was terrible.
I guess I should throw in that the visual effects for the movie were alright. The wolves up close looked pretty cool and Bella turning looked pretty good. However, I doubt that becoming a vampire suddenly means that you are wearing eyeshadow, but what do I know. Also, it sort of looked like the opening to Fight Club for me, but I was probably trying to remember what a good movie looks like at that point.
All in all, Breaking Dawn Part 1 lived up to my expectations....that it was going to suck. If you hate Twilight, go see this movie.
(image from here)
Sunday, November 13, 2011
RIP VCR
I heard of a culture that believes that you die three deaths. The first is when your body stops functioning, the second is everyone who knew you dies, and the third and final death is when everyone forgets your name. It seems that the VCR is reaching that final stage of death.
Remember VCRs? The whir of the tape, not having to go through the main menu to get to the movie, having to rewind when you were done. Those were good times. Back then, we didn't say "VHS". We said tape. Now it seems that people can only remember the term VHS and not VCR. I have no idea how many times I've heard someone say "VHS player" instead of VCR. This is probably because we're used to saying DVD player, but that's still no excuse.
Well, at least I have a working VCR at home so that I can watch my Disney movies. I don't feel like spending all the money to replace them with DVDs. Plus, it's always hilarious when you pop in a tape and hear "Coming summer of 1998...Mulan!" I'm getting old, aren't I?
Remember VCRs? The whir of the tape, not having to go through the main menu to get to the movie, having to rewind when you were done. Those were good times. Back then, we didn't say "VHS". We said tape. Now it seems that people can only remember the term VHS and not VCR. I have no idea how many times I've heard someone say "VHS player" instead of VCR. This is probably because we're used to saying DVD player, but that's still no excuse.
Well, at least I have a working VCR at home so that I can watch my Disney movies. I don't feel like spending all the money to replace them with DVDs. Plus, it's always hilarious when you pop in a tape and hear "Coming summer of 1998...Mulan!" I'm getting old, aren't I?
Friday, November 11, 2011
Healthy eating?
Much as I predicted over the summer, I have lost weight since going gluten/corn/soy/casein free this year. In fact, I have lost about 35 pounds since September. Yay me!
If this was an actual diet, I think I would be doing a lot of things right. I completely cut out junk food (well, unless you count Rice Chex as junk food, but I'll get to that later) and instead I have been eating lots of fruits and veggies. Also, I have shifted the focus off of meat in the meals. We only use meat in about two of our dinners every week, and now even that's starting to feel like a little too much. Of course, that's probably because I recently got my boyfriend hooked on bacon and we've been adding it to things like magic fairy dust. I think we might need to stop buying so much of it (sad face).
I'm not going to lie, I feel great. I still have a few rolls of fat here and there, but I'm comfortable with them. Plus, I have some confidence that if I keep eating this way they will start to recede. If not, well, I've lived with them for almost 20 years so far. It's gotten to the point where when I eat Rice Chex, I feel gross and bloated afterward. They are almost too sweet and taste too fake compared to the other things I've been eating. After I finish off this box, I'm not going to get any more. I hope the trend of being disenchanted with "normal food" will continue, because I feel guilty sometimes for craving junk food. I hope the next time I have a chance to eat them they won't taste as good as I remember. Odd, I know.
Even though I have sworn off junk food, that doesn't mean I don't eat fat. As I mentioned before, we are cooking with bacon and even go so far as to cook the veggies in the bacon fat so we get more of the flavor. We also sometimes splurge on Coconut Bliss ice cream and use massive amounts of potatoes to get our starch fix. However, these things don't feel "bad" to me and I don't feel guilty eating them. Sure, they're indulgences, but not the dirty secret kind.
That being said, I don't know if I am eating healthily. Dinner is really my only meal of the day, because for breakfast I usually eat a Larabar and lunch is either non-existant or (more commonly), a bag of safe chips from the on-campus market and a bottle of Reed's Ginger Beer (so good!). Sometimes I snack on Rice Chex or just go hungry until it's time for dinner. Or I cave and make myself some home fries. Sure, I'm eating "good" things but I don't know if I'm eating enough. Am I getting the right nutrients? Should I be worried about skipping meals? In all truth, I would probably eat more meals if I had the time or the resources to cook them. However, leftovers are usually saved for the next night's dinner or are lunch for my boyfriend (the food is housed in his room and he tends to get to it before me). I can survive this way and I don't feel weak or sick in any way, but I hope that I am not depriving myself of anything.
If this was an actual diet, I think I would be doing a lot of things right. I completely cut out junk food (well, unless you count Rice Chex as junk food, but I'll get to that later) and instead I have been eating lots of fruits and veggies. Also, I have shifted the focus off of meat in the meals. We only use meat in about two of our dinners every week, and now even that's starting to feel like a little too much. Of course, that's probably because I recently got my boyfriend hooked on bacon and we've been adding it to things like magic fairy dust. I think we might need to stop buying so much of it (sad face).
I'm not going to lie, I feel great. I still have a few rolls of fat here and there, but I'm comfortable with them. Plus, I have some confidence that if I keep eating this way they will start to recede. If not, well, I've lived with them for almost 20 years so far. It's gotten to the point where when I eat Rice Chex, I feel gross and bloated afterward. They are almost too sweet and taste too fake compared to the other things I've been eating. After I finish off this box, I'm not going to get any more. I hope the trend of being disenchanted with "normal food" will continue, because I feel guilty sometimes for craving junk food. I hope the next time I have a chance to eat them they won't taste as good as I remember. Odd, I know.
Even though I have sworn off junk food, that doesn't mean I don't eat fat. As I mentioned before, we are cooking with bacon and even go so far as to cook the veggies in the bacon fat so we get more of the flavor. We also sometimes splurge on Coconut Bliss ice cream and use massive amounts of potatoes to get our starch fix. However, these things don't feel "bad" to me and I don't feel guilty eating them. Sure, they're indulgences, but not the dirty secret kind.
That being said, I don't know if I am eating healthily. Dinner is really my only meal of the day, because for breakfast I usually eat a Larabar and lunch is either non-existant or (more commonly), a bag of safe chips from the on-campus market and a bottle of Reed's Ginger Beer (so good!). Sometimes I snack on Rice Chex or just go hungry until it's time for dinner. Or I cave and make myself some home fries. Sure, I'm eating "good" things but I don't know if I'm eating enough. Am I getting the right nutrients? Should I be worried about skipping meals? In all truth, I would probably eat more meals if I had the time or the resources to cook them. However, leftovers are usually saved for the next night's dinner or are lunch for my boyfriend (the food is housed in his room and he tends to get to it before me). I can survive this way and I don't feel weak or sick in any way, but I hope that I am not depriving myself of anything.
Monday, November 7, 2011
New favorite
For the longest time, The Phantom of the Opera was my favorite Broadway musical, although this was sort of out of default. My parents were kind of Phantom nerds back in the eighties and even followed it up to Toronto just so they could see it again. Whenever we were going on a long car ride, we'd pop in the soundtrack and sing away. I've seen it on stage at least three times and each time it's been magical.
And then there was War Horse. Dear god, this play blows Phantom out of the water. What Phantom has in sheer gargantuan extravagance, War Horse had in unadulterated awesome. The set is minimal, consisting of a rotating stage, a narrow screen above the stage, and some moveable props. Oh yeah, AND THE PUPPETS!
Yes sir, that is a puppet. Three people are required to operate it, two inside and one on the outside to control the head movements. The puppetry is absolutely amazing. The ears move, the body looks like its breathing, and the tail swishes. There were times when I forgot it wasn't actually a horse on stage. Plus, people ride these puppets.
If you don't know the story, it's a (yet another) tale about a boy who finds an amazing horse but they are separated and then try to find each other once again despite the odds. Okay, it's not the most original of story lines, but it started off as a children's book (as if that should be an excuse). Basically, Albert falls in love with a young hunter foal and names him Joey. He teaches him to plow in order to win a bet so that he can keep the horse while simultaneously making Joey a work horse for their struggling farm. When Albert's father sells Joey to the British cavalry and he is shipped off to fight in World War I, Albert has to find him among the trenches of Europe. Now imagine this done with life-sized horse puppets. Here's just one of the videos you can find on YouTube:
Another amazing aspect of the play is the music. It's not a musical per-say, but it does have a man who sings various war-era English folk tunes which compliment the scenes. Since much of the play deals with Joey and Albert's desire to return to England where everything is safe and they can be together, the folk songs feel like pieces of home they can take with them.
Knowing that eventually Joey was going to go to war, I went into the play expecting to cry. It first drew tears from me within the first five minutes when Joey as a foal appears on stage and I thought "Oh, look at the little horsey. The little horsey is going to go to war!" I then cried four other times during the rest of the play. I don't know if I'm just that much of a wimp, but from what I hear this is a fairly common reaction. The story deals with some pretty dark subject matter, and the fact that the main character is a horse just doesn't make you want to see a helpless animal die on the battlefield.
Whether or not you want to cry your eyes out in an auditorium full of strangers, I highly recommend that you see the play if you can just to see the puppets. Right now it's only in London, New York, and Toronto, however in 2012 they're going to kick of a US tour. I am going to go see it as many times as I can.
Plus, it will be nice to see my favorite character, the comic relief goose, again.
(image from here)
And then there was War Horse. Dear god, this play blows Phantom out of the water. What Phantom has in sheer gargantuan extravagance, War Horse had in unadulterated awesome. The set is minimal, consisting of a rotating stage, a narrow screen above the stage, and some moveable props. Oh yeah, AND THE PUPPETS!
 | ||
| My favorite scene. |
If you don't know the story, it's a (yet another) tale about a boy who finds an amazing horse but they are separated and then try to find each other once again despite the odds. Okay, it's not the most original of story lines, but it started off as a children's book (as if that should be an excuse). Basically, Albert falls in love with a young hunter foal and names him Joey. He teaches him to plow in order to win a bet so that he can keep the horse while simultaneously making Joey a work horse for their struggling farm. When Albert's father sells Joey to the British cavalry and he is shipped off to fight in World War I, Albert has to find him among the trenches of Europe. Now imagine this done with life-sized horse puppets. Here's just one of the videos you can find on YouTube:
Another amazing aspect of the play is the music. It's not a musical per-say, but it does have a man who sings various war-era English folk tunes which compliment the scenes. Since much of the play deals with Joey and Albert's desire to return to England where everything is safe and they can be together, the folk songs feel like pieces of home they can take with them.
Knowing that eventually Joey was going to go to war, I went into the play expecting to cry. It first drew tears from me within the first five minutes when Joey as a foal appears on stage and I thought "Oh, look at the little horsey. The little horsey is going to go to war!" I then cried four other times during the rest of the play. I don't know if I'm just that much of a wimp, but from what I hear this is a fairly common reaction. The story deals with some pretty dark subject matter, and the fact that the main character is a horse just doesn't make you want to see a helpless animal die on the battlefield.
Whether or not you want to cry your eyes out in an auditorium full of strangers, I highly recommend that you see the play if you can just to see the puppets. Right now it's only in London, New York, and Toronto, however in 2012 they're going to kick of a US tour. I am going to go see it as many times as I can.
Plus, it will be nice to see my favorite character, the comic relief goose, again.
(image from here)
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Perfect.
Today is the perfect New England fall day. Seriously, it is. The sky is just the right shade of light gray to make the leaves pop, and it has acquired that nip in the air that startles you when you first head out the door, but then you warm up as soon as you start walking.
It even smells like fall. It's a combination of the sweet and warm smell of fallen leaves, wood smoke, and the sharp, spikey smell of the imminent snow storm.
It's days like this where I fall in love with New England all over again. I am proud to proclaim that I am one of those people who complains about California because "It doesn't have any seasons". Oh yeah, I'm one of those people. But who could blame me?
This is actually my favorite time of year. It's when the days are brisk and you feeel so warm afer coming inside. I miss being able to go outside without a jacket, but at least the chilliness means that the leaves will erupt in flame and fall just so I can scuff my feet through them and make that "kssh kssh kssh" sound when I walk. After Halloween, it's only a few weeks until Thanksgiving (and my Mom's turkey), then a few more weeks and it's Winter break, which means Christmas and my birthday.
After Christmas, though, the weather gets boring. Snow isn't magical after Christmas, it's just white and slushy and freakin' cold when it gets in your shoe. The world is stuck in black and white from January through most of March. And then everything is brown and muddy. But then, eventually in April, you see the tiny impossible green buds of new leaves poke out of the tips of branches and the whole cycle resets again. How could I live anywhere else? Well, I could live somewhere that still had all of the seasons but skipped March. I hate that month.
It even smells like fall. It's a combination of the sweet and warm smell of fallen leaves, wood smoke, and the sharp, spikey smell of the imminent snow storm.
 | ||
| Happy Halloween!! |
This is actually my favorite time of year. It's when the days are brisk and you feeel so warm afer coming inside. I miss being able to go outside without a jacket, but at least the chilliness means that the leaves will erupt in flame and fall just so I can scuff my feet through them and make that "kssh kssh kssh" sound when I walk. After Halloween, it's only a few weeks until Thanksgiving (and my Mom's turkey), then a few more weeks and it's Winter break, which means Christmas and my birthday.
After Christmas, though, the weather gets boring. Snow isn't magical after Christmas, it's just white and slushy and freakin' cold when it gets in your shoe. The world is stuck in black and white from January through most of March. And then everything is brown and muddy. But then, eventually in April, you see the tiny impossible green buds of new leaves poke out of the tips of branches and the whole cycle resets again. How could I live anywhere else? Well, I could live somewhere that still had all of the seasons but skipped March. I hate that month.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Attack of the Killer Laziness!
So far this year, I've tried to manage my money. My boyfriend and I have a budget for our food, and the free veggies from the farm he worked at over the summer really help. Plus, I have successfully done away with my university meal plan and will be refunded most if not all of the money (minus the one meal I ate with my friend). On top of that, I got an on-campus job as a bus driver. Soon I will be getting $9 an hour for training (which includes just sitting on the bus to get to know the routes) and then after that $10 an hour for actual work. It's a pretty sweet situation, because I will be working a minimum of 15 hours per week, and there's plenty of opportunities to pick up extra hours or get promoted. So now begs the question, what am I going to do over the summer?
The adult in me says that I should continue with this whole employment thing. That's all well and good, but I would rather choke myself with rotten sauerkraut while driving needles into my eyes than go back to working as a cashier. Honestly, I'm extremely introverted and I panic when I am required to rapidly learn new technology and handle money. Yes, let's make me a customer service associate. And then put me behind the returns desk for nine hours the day after Memorial Day weekend. I think you see my point. However, there aren't too many other jobs for college students who need to pick up some cash over the summer.
So here's my thinking: I could work at the farm where my boyfriend worked last summer. I really like the bond he formed there with all of the other workers, and I want to get more in touch with the farming community in the area (hippie that I am). However, I do see a few issues.
Here is my Pro/Con list:
Cons:
1. The sun. I am deathly afraid of skin cancer. I make it my mission every summer to remain as pale as possible. Working on a farm would mean that I am subject to UV rays for at least six hours per day. Honestly, I'm so pale that when I visited my boyfriend and picked currents for three hours, my skin started to blister.
2. Keeping clean. I am in love with that fresh, out of the shower feeling. I also hate the way sweat and dirt feels on my skin. I could get used to it, but the typical rule is that the farm hands only shower once a week in order to save water. Well, there are also some swimming holes nearby, so it would still be cleansing without the actual shower, so maybe I could just be the one to always insist that we go swimming.
3. My hair. This kind of ties in with the whole shower thing, but my scalp tends to be particularly sebaceous. It also has a mind of its own and is so bushy that hats will not stay on it. I guess I spoil my hair a little.
4. Farm work. This is a big one. I'm more of an inside cat, who likes to lounge about on a couch or stay in a nice, air-conditioned back room typing endless streams of numbers into a hospital database. That was my dream position when I volunteered at a local hospital. I really hate yard work, and the idea of repetitiously bending over to pick up things makes my back hurt just thinking of it. I couldn't even pick currents like the other guys when I visited, and I could even sit on the ground for that.
5. The socialization. Being in a house with a bunch of strangers and little to no privacy for a month isn't my first idea of fun.
Pros:
1. It's only a month. One of things I hated about my job last year was that most of my summer was eaten up. Even my parents were getting miffed that I was working all the time because it was cutting into their vacation plans. When August finally hit and I was let go, I relaxed so hard I rebounded back into being semi-productive. It was scary. With the farm gig, I would just work for a month and for the other two I would be free to read, lounge, and set things on fire.
2. The community. As I stated before, I really like the farm community out here. I've gone to a couple of potlucks with my boyfriend and they were always really fun. They're a great group of people!
3. The food. Since my boyfriend and I started eating local veggies, I can't get enough. I actually got excited over a rutabaga last week because I heard we could mix it in with mashed potatoes. At the farm, we would be pulling stuff out of the fields and eating it that day. Heaven!
 |
| This is the June Crew, the one my boyfriend worked on. |
The last factor is money. This one is tricky. It pays roughly as much as I would have earned as a cashier, however since it is only a month-long job I would only have that to go on. However, I think the fact that I recently got money back from the university (and I won't have to pay the fee again!) and I have an on-campus job that will last me for at least two more semesters, I think that I could justify the farm venture as being more of an experience rather than a job. The money would just be a perk.
I'm inclined to say that I have already decided to do this just on the basis that I think I could cope with the conditions and the notion sits pretty comfortably in my mind. After all, I was looking for some farm work last year before I was hired as a cashier, so why should I back down now?
(images from here and here)
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Dear Bro Next to Me,
Why are you so loud? Seriously, why?
I know that you and your friends like to convene and play video games. I know that you like to leave your door open so that all can come in and be welcome. I know that you are social and enjoy the company of others. But why must you be so loud?
You are right there in front of the TV. You don't need the volume to be turned up to 11 just to know that you killed that zombie. Plus, you don't need the door open so that everyone else can hear that you killed that zombie. Why not have a "Come on in!" sign and leave your door unlocked so that all who are curious can come in as they please, but the rest of us don't have to angrily close our doors.
I'm glad you have friends. I'm glad that you have little bits and inside jokes that you do. But I don't like to hear "Krusty Krab pizza is the pizza for you and me!" shouted down the hall at 10. Do it at 8:30. You know, before quiet hours start at 9.
I admit, I can be a little loud too at times. I might have the god of creation and destruction stay for the weekend and he could be loudly regaling the tails of his sexcapades. Fear not, he will be gone by Monday and you will be able to hear your zombies again. Or, I could be loud because of genetic and naturally selected reasons that were and could be still beneficial for the formation of a social group and bonding between individuals. I try to stay quiet but I can't be totally silent. I doubt you can use the same reasoning, unless your particular group of hominid ancestors found it beneficial for you to be an ass-hat.
So please, keep it to a very dull roar. Neither I, my roommate, my roommate's boyfriend, or my boyfriend is interested to hear what you have to say.
Sincerely,
The girl who lives next to you.
I know that you and your friends like to convene and play video games. I know that you like to leave your door open so that all can come in and be welcome. I know that you are social and enjoy the company of others. But why must you be so loud?
You are right there in front of the TV. You don't need the volume to be turned up to 11 just to know that you killed that zombie. Plus, you don't need the door open so that everyone else can hear that you killed that zombie. Why not have a "Come on in!" sign and leave your door unlocked so that all who are curious can come in as they please, but the rest of us don't have to angrily close our doors.
I'm glad you have friends. I'm glad that you have little bits and inside jokes that you do. But I don't like to hear "Krusty Krab pizza is the pizza for you and me!" shouted down the hall at 10. Do it at 8:30. You know, before quiet hours start at 9.
I admit, I can be a little loud too at times. I might have the god of creation and destruction stay for the weekend and he could be loudly regaling the tails of his sexcapades. Fear not, he will be gone by Monday and you will be able to hear your zombies again. Or, I could be loud because of genetic and naturally selected reasons that were and could be still beneficial for the formation of a social group and bonding between individuals. I try to stay quiet but I can't be totally silent. I doubt you can use the same reasoning, unless your particular group of hominid ancestors found it beneficial for you to be an ass-hat.
So please, keep it to a very dull roar. Neither I, my roommate, my roommate's boyfriend, or my boyfriend is interested to hear what you have to say.
Sincerely,
The girl who lives next to you.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Diet craziness
I am amazed at the sheer amount of crazy diets out there in the world. Some of them make sense and some I can't even begin to comprehend. On and off over the years, my mom would put the family on Weight Watchers, but it was too much to keep track of all the points. The rest of the diets I've personally encountered were mostly (failed) exercises in self control, so I don't have a lot of fond memories.
As it happens, I've kind of stumbled my way into eating according to the Paleo diet. Basically, the Paleo diet means eating foods that are not genetically modified or wouldn't have been found or weren't easily accessible to our hominid ancestors. This means a heavy emphasis on fruits, veggies, and meat with practically no grains. As for fats, butter and coconut oil are fine but heavily-modified canola and safflower oil are out. Since my boyfriend can't eat gluten, dairy, corn, or soy, this means that we've pretty much been eating Paleo. We do eat grains, however, as well as safflower oil. So far, eating the way we have been has been good to me, so I don't feel the need to go fully Paleo.
However, it turns out that diets can stem beyond personal well-being and extend out to the environment. Apparently in Australia, there is such a thing as Kangatarianism. This means that you exclude all meat except kangaroo meat from your diet. Since kangaroo is easy to come by in Australia, the thinking is that it reduces the need to import meat and it also doesn't require the massive amounts of farm land needed for beef production. There are variations, such as Pesco-kangatarianism where you can eat fish as well as kangaroo, Pollo-kangatarianism (poultry and kangaroo), Pollo-pesco-kangatarianism (fish, poultry, and kangaroo), and Paleolithic-kangatarianism (all native Australian animals).
Now, not all of this meat is free-range. From what I inferred from the Wikipedia article (where I heard about this diet), kangaroo can be farm-raised. However, I think that a diet based around native animals is a very cool idea.
As it happens, I've kind of stumbled my way into eating according to the Paleo diet. Basically, the Paleo diet means eating foods that are not genetically modified or wouldn't have been found or weren't easily accessible to our hominid ancestors. This means a heavy emphasis on fruits, veggies, and meat with practically no grains. As for fats, butter and coconut oil are fine but heavily-modified canola and safflower oil are out. Since my boyfriend can't eat gluten, dairy, corn, or soy, this means that we've pretty much been eating Paleo. We do eat grains, however, as well as safflower oil. So far, eating the way we have been has been good to me, so I don't feel the need to go fully Paleo.
However, it turns out that diets can stem beyond personal well-being and extend out to the environment. Apparently in Australia, there is such a thing as Kangatarianism. This means that you exclude all meat except kangaroo meat from your diet. Since kangaroo is easy to come by in Australia, the thinking is that it reduces the need to import meat and it also doesn't require the massive amounts of farm land needed for beef production. There are variations, such as Pesco-kangatarianism where you can eat fish as well as kangaroo, Pollo-kangatarianism (poultry and kangaroo), Pollo-pesco-kangatarianism (fish, poultry, and kangaroo), and Paleolithic-kangatarianism (all native Australian animals).
Now, not all of this meat is free-range. From what I inferred from the Wikipedia article (where I heard about this diet), kangaroo can be farm-raised. However, I think that a diet based around native animals is a very cool idea.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
I....I just can't.
If you want to find a good way to scare yourself, Google "vingate lysol ads". I'm not kidding. Lysol back in the day was an "all purpose cleaner". They meant all purposes. Just.......just try it and see what I mean.
(image from here)
 | ||
| *shudder* |
(image from here)
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Try it at home!
Isn't it amazing how quickly you can come to a realization?
For instance, today I was sitting in class and dropped my pen. Reflexively, I closed my legs in order to catch it in my lap. How did I know that closing my legs would catch it? Previous experience or pure instinct?
Then I remembered one of the scant parts of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that I can recall. I remembered that at one point in the book, Huck poses as a girl and seems to do a pretty good job of it too. However, he is eventually revealed by one of the strangest ways to test gender: by seeing how he catches something in his lap. The woman who takes him in explains that a boy closes his legs when he catches something whereas a girl opens hers (insert sex joke here). Well now. Does that mean I'm a boy? Nope. The reason is that I wear pants.
Think about it. If you were wearing one of the wide skirts back in the day of Huck's travels, by opening your legs you would create a tent of fabric and catch the falling object. Since boys didn't wear those skirts (past childhood, that is), they would have to close their legs instead. Obviously, since then women have begun to wear pants, and in the last fifty or so years it seems that the skirt is falling out of favor. Therefore, we have learned to close our legs (more sex jokes). Even the shape of the skirts probably have had an influence. Skirts and dresses have significantly decreased in volume, therefore decreasing the possible area available for catching falling items.
There are some other factors that might enter into this conclusion. For instance, Huck's test took place in the rural South. Perhaps in the North or in big cities where femininity obsessively controlled and sculpted the girls would have resisted spreading their legs. This could just be a "country bumpkin" test, but it's interesting that the mere social mandate of how women should dress affected the way that they react to catching items.
(images from here and here)
By the way, the bunny picture was made by trafalgarssquare on Etsy.com. You can buy a print from their store!
For instance, today I was sitting in class and dropped my pen. Reflexively, I closed my legs in order to catch it in my lap. How did I know that closing my legs would catch it? Previous experience or pure instinct?
Think about it. If you were wearing one of the wide skirts back in the day of Huck's travels, by opening your legs you would create a tent of fabric and catch the falling object. Since boys didn't wear those skirts (past childhood, that is), they would have to close their legs instead. Obviously, since then women have begun to wear pants, and in the last fifty or so years it seems that the skirt is falling out of favor. Therefore, we have learned to close our legs (more sex jokes). Even the shape of the skirts probably have had an influence. Skirts and dresses have significantly decreased in volume, therefore decreasing the possible area available for catching falling items.
 |
| This as what I found when I Googled "catching a falling item" SO CUTE! |
(images from here and here)
By the way, the bunny picture was made by trafalgarssquare on Etsy.com. You can buy a print from their store!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
The cult of womanhood gathers at the Clinique counter
As I probably made clear in my Label Able post about lipstick, I am not really a part of Makeup Culture. I say culture, because it kind of is. We recognize the symbols of the makeup companies and for the most of us, we can recognize what a lipstick is. We are indoctrinated in one way or another, by giving lip gloss packs as birthday presents or the cliche of putting on Mommy's makeup and pretending you're a grown up. This culture has norms and ideals, which I don't follow.
For instance, it seems to be the idea of Makeup Culture that every woman should wear makeup, and those who don't are not living up to their potential as women and haven't had a "good experience" with it that made them suddenly want to invest in a kabuki brush and some bronzer. They are seen as somehow not quite women, as a proto-gender, butch, inept, or damaged in some way. Why should we constantly wear makeup? Why should we cake ourselves with things that are supposed to make our skin look healthier when in all likelihood it will damage our skin in some way by clogging pores or secreting chemicals. Maybe we don't have time, or even the inclination.
Makeup Culture has also decreed in the last few years that if you wear makeup, it has to be noticeable. Or maybe it's just me. Isn't one of the primary uses of make up to compliment your natural beauty? Aren't there packs of eyeshadow that are supposed to accentuate your eye color? Aren't cat-eyes supposed to make your eyes look exotic and your lashes thicker? I understand the urge to ornament yourself. I really do. I like funky colors of nail polish and blue eyeliner. However, it should be a choice and an expression of individuality, not because Makeup Culture decrees that you should have a smokey-eye that looks like you got punched in the face by a fist covered in glitter.
It also seems that those who prescribe to Makeup Culture take everything or at least most things quite literally. When Makeup Culture decrees that you should put on foundation, out come the sponges and you have an orange oompa-loompa face because you were told to put on foundation and damn it, you did. Put on eyeliner? Make it as apparent as the eye black football players use, only instead of on your cheek put it right on your eyelid. Mascara? The closer you look like Blind Mag, the better.
I'm not completely against makeup. In fact, I am intrigued by it. I want to unlock its mysteries and then decide for myself if it is right for me. I just don't want to feel like I should have to invest a bunch of time and money into face goop just because I won't be considered feminine if I don't. I want to cherry pick my makeup. I put on foundation to hid some zits and so that I have a bit of sunscreen on my face. If it's cloudy and my face is clear, I'll go without. If I feel adventurous or retro, I'll break out the liquid liner and attempt a cat eye before becoming frustrated and wiping the thing off. Same goes for my blue eyeliner.
I just don't want to be peer-pressured into expressing my individuality.
(image from here)
For instance, it seems to be the idea of Makeup Culture that every woman should wear makeup, and those who don't are not living up to their potential as women and haven't had a "good experience" with it that made them suddenly want to invest in a kabuki brush and some bronzer. They are seen as somehow not quite women, as a proto-gender, butch, inept, or damaged in some way. Why should we constantly wear makeup? Why should we cake ourselves with things that are supposed to make our skin look healthier when in all likelihood it will damage our skin in some way by clogging pores or secreting chemicals. Maybe we don't have time, or even the inclination.
Makeup Culture has also decreed in the last few years that if you wear makeup, it has to be noticeable. Or maybe it's just me. Isn't one of the primary uses of make up to compliment your natural beauty? Aren't there packs of eyeshadow that are supposed to accentuate your eye color? Aren't cat-eyes supposed to make your eyes look exotic and your lashes thicker? I understand the urge to ornament yourself. I really do. I like funky colors of nail polish and blue eyeliner. However, it should be a choice and an expression of individuality, not because Makeup Culture decrees that you should have a smokey-eye that looks like you got punched in the face by a fist covered in glitter.
 |
| Oh yeah. She gets it |
I'm not completely against makeup. In fact, I am intrigued by it. I want to unlock its mysteries and then decide for myself if it is right for me. I just don't want to feel like I should have to invest a bunch of time and money into face goop just because I won't be considered feminine if I don't. I want to cherry pick my makeup. I put on foundation to hid some zits and so that I have a bit of sunscreen on my face. If it's cloudy and my face is clear, I'll go without. If I feel adventurous or retro, I'll break out the liquid liner and attempt a cat eye before becoming frustrated and wiping the thing off. Same goes for my blue eyeliner.
I just don't want to be peer-pressured into expressing my individuality.
(image from here)
Friday, August 19, 2011
Am I in trouble?
I was faced with the realization yesterday that I have gained a few pounds. This was a little shocking to me because I had been enjoying my weight loss and now I had to start worrying again about what I eat. I was also struck with a feeling of helplessness. I have to admit that my house doesn't contain much healthy food. This, combined with my near lack of self control when it comes to eating explains the five pounds I've gained.
I have been trying to console myself by saying that once summer is over and I am back at college, the weight will come of. For once, that isn't a false promise and I am truly looking forward to eating local food. I love going to the Farmer's Market, looking at all the vegetables that are misshapen and would be thrown out at a supermarket just because they aren't symmetrical. I like the people who mind the stands with dirt on their aprons from the produce. I love bringing it back and cooking a meal, the repetition of cooking and the wait for the onions to caramelize. But what happens when I'm back from the break?
My mom does the grocery shopping on Saturdays. Always at the same store, and usually the same products. There is little room for variety. Don't get me wrong, my mom is an amazing cook. It's because of her food that I usually don't like to eat at other people's houses and why restaurants are just places to go when she doesn't feel like cooking. However, her meals no longer fit into what my ideal kitchen is.
Toward the end of last year I had all but sworn-off Coke. At meal times I would get a sparkling water and I promised myself that I would continue the trend into the summer. However, I promptly went on a soda-binge. To confess, I had three cans of Diet Coke today. Why? I don't need the caffeine. It's probably the taste but also because I can't be bothered to think of anything else to drink. And also, it keeps showing up in the fridge.
My problems are mostly my own fault. I admit. I have a very passive attitude when it comes to my diet, preferring to forage and graze on what I find in the cupboards. I have a bag of quinoa that hasn't been touched in months sitting next to a half-empty bag of Lay's. I am really afraid of winter break and next summer. I'll have gone gluten and other allergen-free for months, and then come home to see a feast of untouchables in front of me. I hate that I am starting to develop an attitude of trying to get as much sweets and processed food as I can before I go to college because it will be the last chance I have for a while. But really, I won't miss the processed food that much. I am just making excuses for eating. So what's to stop me when I have a month of Christmas goodies to eat?
I have been trying to console myself by saying that once summer is over and I am back at college, the weight will come of. For once, that isn't a false promise and I am truly looking forward to eating local food. I love going to the Farmer's Market, looking at all the vegetables that are misshapen and would be thrown out at a supermarket just because they aren't symmetrical. I like the people who mind the stands with dirt on their aprons from the produce. I love bringing it back and cooking a meal, the repetition of cooking and the wait for the onions to caramelize. But what happens when I'm back from the break?
My mom does the grocery shopping on Saturdays. Always at the same store, and usually the same products. There is little room for variety. Don't get me wrong, my mom is an amazing cook. It's because of her food that I usually don't like to eat at other people's houses and why restaurants are just places to go when she doesn't feel like cooking. However, her meals no longer fit into what my ideal kitchen is.
Toward the end of last year I had all but sworn-off Coke. At meal times I would get a sparkling water and I promised myself that I would continue the trend into the summer. However, I promptly went on a soda-binge. To confess, I had three cans of Diet Coke today. Why? I don't need the caffeine. It's probably the taste but also because I can't be bothered to think of anything else to drink. And also, it keeps showing up in the fridge.
My problems are mostly my own fault. I admit. I have a very passive attitude when it comes to my diet, preferring to forage and graze on what I find in the cupboards. I have a bag of quinoa that hasn't been touched in months sitting next to a half-empty bag of Lay's. I am really afraid of winter break and next summer. I'll have gone gluten and other allergen-free for months, and then come home to see a feast of untouchables in front of me. I hate that I am starting to develop an attitude of trying to get as much sweets and processed food as I can before I go to college because it will be the last chance I have for a while. But really, I won't miss the processed food that much. I am just making excuses for eating. So what's to stop me when I have a month of Christmas goodies to eat?
Sunday, August 7, 2011
More available online.
Bras are the primary foundation garment for the modern woman. We have long ago left behind stomachers, crinolines, and corsets. Even the slip has fallen out of use since the 90's. No, underneath it all we are down to our panties and bras. Therefore, fewer allowances must be made in the fit. If the bra band creates a little roll here or there, there are fewer pieces of fabric which can mask it. Even the modern "cami", which is highly elasticized and therefore clingy, only accentuates the problem rather than mask it.
Also, it is very easy for a bra to be uncomfortable. If a wire is an inch or so too close to the arm, you could have pinching. Or, sometimes bra manufacturers play with the positioning of the straps so that the garment tips at an odd angle or the cups leave a gap between the skin and fabric. On top of that, there are the subtle differences between brands. Some fit smaller, some fit larger, others fit true to size but you still have to double check. So why is it that they never have my size at stores?
For the past five years, I have bought Maidenform's t-shirt demi bra size 38C. I buy it from the same store each time because I know that they will have what I am looking for. This is probably because the store also sells full-figure bras as well as smaller teen sizes. This wide range as well as constancy in brand selection assures me that they will always have my bra. But sometimes I long for something a little different.
So I go to a store like Gap Body or Aerie, where they have delicate lace items or adorable cotton underthings that make me drool. I paw through the racks, past the As and Bs until I find C. Then I count: 32, 34, 36.... and then it jumps to D. When did a 38 inch ribcage become taboo? Why are there size 32D bras but not a relatively average 38C? They promise sizes up to 40DD online, but why not in the store? Is it clutter? Do they not want "fat bras" to contaminate the image of the slim yet well-endowed teen that is hung on the wall?
This is like stores that only carry sizes small, medium, and large and yet are reluctant to throw a few XLs into the pile. These also tend to be the stores that cut their clothing smaller than other companies, so that a size large is really more like a medium. Sometimes you can make allowances, letting yourself get the large when you really need the extra fabric, telling yourself that you can hid the rolls with a cami. However, you can't do that with a bra. The sizing is more specific than the vague S,M,L,XL guidelines of outer garments. When you wear a size 36, you need the two extra inches that a size 34 does not have. And even then, there is no guarantee that it will fit. Sometimes you need the next size up, but that's not certain.
This goes beyond a matter of selection. I am truly wondering why upper sizes are forced onto company websites when they are the ones who have issues with the fit of clothing.The worst part is, I don't think that my bra size will really ever change. I may lose weight and slowly ease myself down from a large shirt to a medium, however the width of my ribcage isn't likely to change.
Also, it is very easy for a bra to be uncomfortable. If a wire is an inch or so too close to the arm, you could have pinching. Or, sometimes bra manufacturers play with the positioning of the straps so that the garment tips at an odd angle or the cups leave a gap between the skin and fabric. On top of that, there are the subtle differences between brands. Some fit smaller, some fit larger, others fit true to size but you still have to double check. So why is it that they never have my size at stores?
For the past five years, I have bought Maidenform's t-shirt demi bra size 38C. I buy it from the same store each time because I know that they will have what I am looking for. This is probably because the store also sells full-figure bras as well as smaller teen sizes. This wide range as well as constancy in brand selection assures me that they will always have my bra. But sometimes I long for something a little different.
So I go to a store like Gap Body or Aerie, where they have delicate lace items or adorable cotton underthings that make me drool. I paw through the racks, past the As and Bs until I find C. Then I count: 32, 34, 36.... and then it jumps to D. When did a 38 inch ribcage become taboo? Why are there size 32D bras but not a relatively average 38C? They promise sizes up to 40DD online, but why not in the store? Is it clutter? Do they not want "fat bras" to contaminate the image of the slim yet well-endowed teen that is hung on the wall?
This is like stores that only carry sizes small, medium, and large and yet are reluctant to throw a few XLs into the pile. These also tend to be the stores that cut their clothing smaller than other companies, so that a size large is really more like a medium. Sometimes you can make allowances, letting yourself get the large when you really need the extra fabric, telling yourself that you can hid the rolls with a cami. However, you can't do that with a bra. The sizing is more specific than the vague S,M,L,XL guidelines of outer garments. When you wear a size 36, you need the two extra inches that a size 34 does not have. And even then, there is no guarantee that it will fit. Sometimes you need the next size up, but that's not certain.
This goes beyond a matter of selection. I am truly wondering why upper sizes are forced onto company websites when they are the ones who have issues with the fit of clothing.The worst part is, I don't think that my bra size will really ever change. I may lose weight and slowly ease myself down from a large shirt to a medium, however the width of my ribcage isn't likely to change.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Split
I am the type to live in my head. I spend long car rides and the moments before sleep thinking up stories that somehow never make it on to paper. And I fantasize.
I my mind, I still look roughly the same. I still have the same hair, maybe a little smoother and I still have the same body shape, maybe a little slimmer. I don't consciously try to kid myself into thinking that I am truly a size 2, and truth be told I can't even picture myself that way. I guess in my mind I have a flatter stomach and maybe a torso that isn't so long. And then I look in the mirror. Sometimes, the truth of my body shocks me. I know I don't have the body of an athlete, but I had hoped for something better than a bowl of rising bread dough.
The confusing part is that there are other cases of a disjoint between the mental image of the body and the actual image. With people with anorexia or bulimia, the images are reversed so that the mental body is the one that is bigger. So what's up with me?
Maybe I like to fancy myself thinner and assume I look that way in the same way that people think that they are the best writer or singer or whatever in the world. Maybe instead of character traits I imagine myself better physically. However, I am not comparing myself to other people. I don't think that I have a better body with anyone other than my mirror self.
I think the best way to describe my thought process is what I will now call Fat Bastard Syndrome. In my head, I'm "dead sexy" and uphold my belief even when evidence is shown to the contrary. I don't outright deny the flab when I am confronted with it, however once I am away from a mirror long enough the ideal picture of myself comes back and that's how I go on thinking of myself until I look again.
That might not be an accurate description, but it's all I can think of for now. Why is there this huge split between my sexy head image and what I really look like?
(image from here)
I my mind, I still look roughly the same. I still have the same hair, maybe a little smoother and I still have the same body shape, maybe a little slimmer. I don't consciously try to kid myself into thinking that I am truly a size 2, and truth be told I can't even picture myself that way. I guess in my mind I have a flatter stomach and maybe a torso that isn't so long. And then I look in the mirror. Sometimes, the truth of my body shocks me. I know I don't have the body of an athlete, but I had hoped for something better than a bowl of rising bread dough.
The confusing part is that there are other cases of a disjoint between the mental image of the body and the actual image. With people with anorexia or bulimia, the images are reversed so that the mental body is the one that is bigger. So what's up with me?
Maybe I like to fancy myself thinner and assume I look that way in the same way that people think that they are the best writer or singer or whatever in the world. Maybe instead of character traits I imagine myself better physically. However, I am not comparing myself to other people. I don't think that I have a better body with anyone other than my mirror self.
That might not be an accurate description, but it's all I can think of for now. Why is there this huge split between my sexy head image and what I really look like?
(image from here)
Friday, July 29, 2011
Role Models
I recently (as in just finished and was struck with the delicious lightning bolt of inspiration five seconds ago) this post on the Parenting Beyond Belief blog The Meming of Life. The post dealt with exposing children to movies that might fall outside the traditional bounds of what is a "safe" movie so that the kids are able to have a better grasp on the diversity of characters not only in film but in real life. I fully agree with the idea, because I would rather have my kids be curious and be able to answer any of their questions rather than have them watch stale "wholesome" movies and not have any questions at all.
One particular quote caught my eye. The author's daughter had realized that Tom Cruise's character in Rain Man was a jerk purely through his use of the word "fuck" and her father wrote:
This hit a particular chord with me. When I was younger and there was any raunchiness on screen, be it sex or swearing, I would turn red and get uncomfortable. Not because of the nature of what was going on, but because I was with my parents and was afraid that they would be upset if they found out that I knew what was going on. Whenever I laughed at a sex-related joke or somesuch thing, my mom would ask "How do you know what that is?" and I would reply "Because I ride the bus".
The schoolbus was truly a forum from the time I started elementary school until I learned how to drive. There was one adult in charge of about fifty kids, so we could get away with trying out swears we had heard in movies or from older siblings. And there were no ramifications. If you used more swears or understood what Steve Martin's wife meant when she asked "Were you humping the nanny?" in Bringing Down the House, you were all-knowing and mature. Or in other words: cool. Swearing became the standard for being cool so I began to try out more colorful language without knowing fully what I was talking about it. I thought that just knowing the words was enough.
In the case of the Meming article, the author's daughter wasn't hearing "fuck" from a peer, but from a jerk. She didn't want to be a jerk, so she wasn't likely to use the word. Now, I'm not condemning the use of swearing. In fact, I rather like how swears sound and feel when I speak them. I just think that kids are more likely, when exposed to swearing, to use swears without knowing what they mean or whether or not they are hurtful to other people. As for sexual topics, I think that it mostly piques curiosity in the subject. It would be at this point that I would probably have "the talk" or a refresher on the subject to explain what was going on and answer any questions.
In short, I think that I will use this movie practice with my future kids, exposing them to situations and people outside of their immediate surroundings. With this exposure and the explanations their parents give, I hope that they will form their own opinions based on the richness of the human experience and not the confines of the narrow mindset they might have otherwise been exposed to. Plus, as a bonus they might turn into huge movie buffs and I'll have more people to watch Orson Welles movies and A Lust for Life with me!
One particular quote caught my eye. The author's daughter had realized that Tom Cruise's character in Rain Man was a jerk purely through his use of the word "fuck" and her father wrote:
"She had a chance to handle it, process it, and put it in perspective in our living room rather than on the schoolbus."
This hit a particular chord with me. When I was younger and there was any raunchiness on screen, be it sex or swearing, I would turn red and get uncomfortable. Not because of the nature of what was going on, but because I was with my parents and was afraid that they would be upset if they found out that I knew what was going on. Whenever I laughed at a sex-related joke or somesuch thing, my mom would ask "How do you know what that is?" and I would reply "Because I ride the bus".
The schoolbus was truly a forum from the time I started elementary school until I learned how to drive. There was one adult in charge of about fifty kids, so we could get away with trying out swears we had heard in movies or from older siblings. And there were no ramifications. If you used more swears or understood what Steve Martin's wife meant when she asked "Were you humping the nanny?" in Bringing Down the House, you were all-knowing and mature. Or in other words: cool. Swearing became the standard for being cool so I began to try out more colorful language without knowing fully what I was talking about it. I thought that just knowing the words was enough.
In the case of the Meming article, the author's daughter wasn't hearing "fuck" from a peer, but from a jerk. She didn't want to be a jerk, so she wasn't likely to use the word. Now, I'm not condemning the use of swearing. In fact, I rather like how swears sound and feel when I speak them. I just think that kids are more likely, when exposed to swearing, to use swears without knowing what they mean or whether or not they are hurtful to other people. As for sexual topics, I think that it mostly piques curiosity in the subject. It would be at this point that I would probably have "the talk" or a refresher on the subject to explain what was going on and answer any questions.
In short, I think that I will use this movie practice with my future kids, exposing them to situations and people outside of their immediate surroundings. With this exposure and the explanations their parents give, I hope that they will form their own opinions based on the richness of the human experience and not the confines of the narrow mindset they might have otherwise been exposed to. Plus, as a bonus they might turn into huge movie buffs and I'll have more people to watch Orson Welles movies and A Lust for Life with me!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Less waste (hopefullly)
Today my menstrual cup arrived. Hooray! I'm excited because it's opening up a whole new way for me to handle my period. There is some buzz about potential chemicals in more typical pads and tampons and also the risks for TSS. I personally wasn't too concerned with that, but I was concerned about the waste aspect. How much of my uterine lining is sitting in a landfill right now, trapped by layers of cotton and plastic? I thought about reusable pads too, but living in a college environment and changing pads as often as I do, having 20+ pads that I would have to wash at the end of the week in a public laundry room wasn't the best idea.
Plus there was a money issue.How much do I pay to make sure I had enough supplies? I figured that I might as well pay $40 this one time and then not buy menstrual products for as long as my cup holds out, which could be years. Awesome! Besides, pads are pretty expensive as it is and I go through a fair few so I hope that my new Lunette Selene will pay for itself in due time.
After I decided to pursue buying a menstrual cup, I researched the different kinds that were out there. Most of them are made out of medical-grade silicone, so I didn't have to worry about comparing materials. Mostly I looked at size and shape. I wanted a cup with ridges at the bottom so that my fingers wouldn't slip off when I tried to remove it and also a flat tab as opposed to a hollow one so that no *achem* gunk would get in it. The Lunette Selene had some good reviews and I decided to go with it because I thought that it would be large enough to handle the task without being too uncomfortable.
Even though I am not currently having my period, I decided to do a trial run just to get a feel for it. Literally. I am going to keep doing this over the next couple of weeks to make sure that I have the insertion and removal techniques down so that I don't have any leakage issues when my time comes. I think I may have to trim the tab a little bit or maybe even off completely, but I'm going to go a little bit at a time. I'm also going to try a few different folding techniques to see which one works best for me.
I think if someone is considering getting a menstrual cup, first and foremost they should be comfortable touching their vagina. I read some reviews online where people were uncomfortable with the fact that they had to pull the cup out of themselves in order to empty it. Plus, there might be some adjusting to do after the cup is inserted. It's almost like contact lenses: if you don't like touching your eye, maybe you should pursue other options. Also, I would suggest doing research and doing it thoroughly. I actually tried my best to measure the distance to my cervix in order to make sure that the cup I was buying wasn't too large. Maybe it's just me, but I thought it was a valid point to consider. I also found this site very helpful for side to side comparisons. Overall, I am pleased with the decision that I made and hopefully I won't have to buy pads ever again!
(image from here)
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Boo yah
Our society has a strange mindset when it comes to money. Western culture, and indeed most cultures it seems, admires people who are able to spend a lot of money. However, lately we have also started to admire people who are able to save as much money as possible even when buying things. Sure, we're impressed when someone has enough money to cover their toilet in 24 carat gold, but we're even more impressed when they find a $50 shop vac at a home improvement store for $10. Does this mean that they not only have money to spend, but are also cunning enough to navigate the commercial world and find the deal that works best for them?
I just had a similar experience. I have been considering getting a menstrual cup for some time (a topic for another post) and primarily started looking on Amazon.com. I did some outside research to find reviews as well as visual comparisons between different cups until I narrowed it down to one I liked best. It was $39.99. I started to go through with the order until I remembered that there is such a thing as shipping and handling charges, so now my total rose to $45.90. Sure, that isn't too much of a chunk taken out of my wallet but I had just decided to go with the more expensive of the two cups I was considering and was already smarting from that $10 difference.
So I took a leap of faith: I Googled other possible vendors for the cup I wanted and found a maternity store which also sold menstrual products. The cup was the same price, however by a hint of luck they were having a free shipping promotion for Independence Day. This time I really was paying $39.99. Then I decided to test my luck one more time: I looked for an online coupon. Surprisingly, I found a valid promotion code which took 10% off of my order, dropping my total to about $35.
So why do we value saving money while spending it? I don't know. However, I rather enjoy the process. Although I am somewhat of a consumerist *hangs head*, if something is too expensive I tend not to buy it until I find a better price. Maybe looking for a better deal registers in my mind as working harder for the product, telling myself that I deserve it because I found such a good price. In fact, I have even had those moments when I told myself it would be a bad thing if I didn't buy something on a sale price. Although I am reveling in this victory, I know that I am feeding my own problem. I just spent half of a day's wages on a menstrual product I'm not sure will even fit. However, at least I didn't pay nearly $50 for it!
(image from here)
So I took a leap of faith: I Googled other possible vendors for the cup I wanted and found a maternity store which also sold menstrual products. The cup was the same price, however by a hint of luck they were having a free shipping promotion for Independence Day. This time I really was paying $39.99. Then I decided to test my luck one more time: I looked for an online coupon. Surprisingly, I found a valid promotion code which took 10% off of my order, dropping my total to about $35.
So why do we value saving money while spending it? I don't know. However, I rather enjoy the process. Although I am somewhat of a consumerist *hangs head*, if something is too expensive I tend not to buy it until I find a better price. Maybe looking for a better deal registers in my mind as working harder for the product, telling myself that I deserve it because I found such a good price. In fact, I have even had those moments when I told myself it would be a bad thing if I didn't buy something on a sale price. Although I am reveling in this victory, I know that I am feeding my own problem. I just spent half of a day's wages on a menstrual product I'm not sure will even fit. However, at least I didn't pay nearly $50 for it!
(image from here)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
One nerd's humble opinion
Let me just say it: I love Star Trek. I could talk forever about my favorite episodes and how clever it was that they designed Spock's ship in the latest movie to look like a Vulcan symbol. However, I do not claim to know everything about it. In fact, I don't even like everything about the entire franchise. However, I do like enough to make this assertion: Deep Space Nine was the best series of all. It has been overshadowed by the glory of The Original Series and The Next Generation, as well as the fail that was Voyager and Enterprise. Despite this, it is the best.
Before I delve into the reasons, let me explain why I don't like the other series as much. First off, although The Original Series (TOS) is enjoyable at points, it still follows the action series cliches of the era it was made in. It is mostly a template where the Enterprise goes to Planet X, meets new alien species Y, fights Z, and then flies off for a new adventure next week. Although I want to be a Trek purist, I just find it hard to watch the same episode over and over with only the names changed. Plus, the overall feeling is campy and macho, with Kirk being a somewhat cocky leader toting his interests in the name of Starfleet. However, I do have a few favorite episodes. I love "Amok Time" because it talks about Vulcan reproduction and "Space Seed" because it gave birth to The Wrath of Khan, which I will never stop loving.
The Next Generation (TNG) for a long time was my favorite. Because Picard isn't the macho eye-candy that Kirk was, the plot doesn't depend on fighting to get the action through. Instead, it works more with the diplomacy and inner conflict of the characters. Plus, it felt like a logical continuation of the Star Trek legacy as Starfleet moved further into the future and met different species.Therefore, there were new conflicts and we got to see the results of the actions taken with the previous series. It was here that the Trill were introduced and the whole Data/Dr. Soong ark which I loved because Data was my favorite character (don't ask why). However, I hated the Borg. Every time there was a Borg episode, I felt like the enjoyability of the series went away and it was returning to the brute force of TOS. It was fascinating that Picard was captured and assimilated, but after a while it felt like "The Borg are here. What do we do?" "I don't know, they're unstoppable." "Well, we better go try and stop them, then!". Give me a break.
*sigh*. And now Voyager. Regarded across the board as one of the worst series, and I agree. It was as if the writers wanted to make everything up and keep away from the already established Trek universe, so they just threw the crew of Voyager across the galaxy and said "There, now we don't have to worry about continuity!" Indeed, all of the focus was on the situation and everything the crew did was gauged as either keeping them from getting home or assisting them. There was little to no investment in the characters so the whole affect was a ship full of cardboard cutouts. Also, there were the worst characters: Neelix and Tuvok. Tuvok's only major issue in the entire series was that he went through Pon Farr and didn't have his wife there to help out. That's it: major Vulcan horniness. Sure he might have died and it is a relevant issue for a Vulcan 70 years away from home, but still. And then there's Neelix. He was just annoying. The worst was when he and Tuvok were fused together to make Tuvix. It was a new low for Star Trek. Also, there was the clear fan service of Seven of Nine. It's as if they knew the story was failing so they decided to put a lady with huge tits in a skin-tight catsuit and have her say sciency things. Oh yeah, and she was Borg. The Borg just won't go away!
And then there was Enterprise. It was based on the promising idea of seeing Starfleet in it's infancy, however failed by the fact that apparently Starfleet's original mission was to send supermodels into space. Seriously, every one of the cast members was gorgeous, perhaps with the exception of Dr. Phlox. A good deal of the plot was about Starfleet acting like a teenager under the aid of the Vulcan officers helping out with the programs. Although it was interesting to meet the Andorians for the first time and the Xindi were in my opinion one of the coolest species to come out of the Trek universe, the whole thing bombed with the season 3 finale, which sent Captain Archer into the past where aliens were assisting the Nazi's invade North America. I almost threw my computer against a wall when I saw a time-traveling alien in an SS uniform.
Obviously, there is potential for fail in the Star Trek franchise, so why does DS9 stand above the rest? Well, first of all it is basically a sequel series to TNG, directly following the events established by it's sister series and even following some of the characters as they moved off of the Enterprise and onto the space station, Deep Space Nine. However, since the station was in a different location and was near the wormhole to the Delta Quadrant, there was potential to introduce new species and conflicts into the story.
There were also clear themes in DS9 that related to issues in the real world. The first episode, Emissary, deals with the DS9's commander, Sisko, coming to terms with the fact that he is basically a messiah in the Bajoran religion and this comes with a whole new bundle of responsibilities on top of the ones related to running a space station. DS9 primarily deals with the question of "what if religion is real and higher beings do exist?" and it mixes spirituality with science fiction quite well. The series also deals with the issue of imperialism and if powerful governments should interfere with the issues of less powerful ones. Most Bajorans don't want a Starfleet presence on their planet because they fear that they will loose their independence, and yet are reluctant to make them move out because Starfleet is the only thing holding back the Cardassians from invading again. In a post-Cold War world, the issue of protection and invasion is obviously relevant and is echoed quite well within the series.
And now there is my favorite part of DS9: Gul Dukat. He is just one of the villains in the series, and what makes him so amazing is that he is so complex. He starts out as the commander of DS9 during the Cardassian occupation of Bajor, is then banished from the Cardassian command, becomes a renegade, allies himself with Sisko, then goes back to the Cardassians, goes insane, and then ultimately goes rogue again and embroils himself in the feud he has with Bajor. He even stoops so low as to disguise himself as a Bajoran and sleeps with their spiritual leader. Dude, that's cold.
The best part is that you can see this all happen. You can never really trust him, so you never know if he's sincere when he helps the DS9 crew and therefore you aren't surprised when he rejoins the ranks of the Cardassian command, and yet you don't know if he's just playing them too. Plus, when he goes insane it's a completely new side for him and then makes his character even better.
Another great character I just have to mention is Jadzia Dax, a Trill whose conflicts I find thoroughly fascinating. As a Trill, she is implanted with a symbiont being who houses the memories of its previous hosts, so in fact she is many characters in one. She holds so much knowledge and history and is in a way without gender because the symbiont's previous host was male, which leads to a steamy lesbian-esque episode. However, the most intriguing aspect is when Jadzia dies and the Dax symbiont is implanted in another Trill, Ezri. Even though she is a new character, she still has Jadzia's memories and therefore it is hard to tell if she is really gone.
Now don't get me wrong, DS9 isn't without its flaws. The most obvious one for me is that I am not particularly fond of the commander, Benjamin Sisko. This might be just the actor and not the actual character, but his dialogue is extremely flat and is expression emotionless. This was probably an attempt to represent the figurative mask Sisko had to wear when he was remaining calm even though a whole bunch of bad things were happening around him, but even the emotional scenes seemed forced. Also the whole Dominion aspect of the series was a little complicated. The Dominion was basically the Borg of the series, although not as annoying. Plus there were the orbs that the crew had to find which made episodes more of a quest-based story rather than a science-fiction one, but I am willing to forgive all of that for the sheer greatness overall of the series. They addressed many relevant issues throughout the story and wove it well into the plot, instead of just episodes like "this one is about homosexuality but not really" like in TNG. I felt extremely invested in the struggles the characters had and genuinely cried during "The Seige of AR-558" and "Sacrifice of Angels". Sure, bits of the series got very silly, but because overall the series was good it didn't annoy me as much as when similar things happened in the other series.
So why is DS9 overlooked? I have no idea. Probably because it wasn't as bombastic as TOS and TNG, or as much of a failure as Voyager or Enterprise. There were no DS9 movies, only a nod to the series in First Contact and Insurrection. To me, it will always be the gem of the entire franchise and I will continue to locate a Bajoran earring and recite the Rules of Acquisition to show my allegiance to the characters.
Long live Bajor and Deep Space Nine!
(images from here, here, and here)
Before I delve into the reasons, let me explain why I don't like the other series as much. First off, although The Original Series (TOS) is enjoyable at points, it still follows the action series cliches of the era it was made in. It is mostly a template where the Enterprise goes to Planet X, meets new alien species Y, fights Z, and then flies off for a new adventure next week. Although I want to be a Trek purist, I just find it hard to watch the same episode over and over with only the names changed. Plus, the overall feeling is campy and macho, with Kirk being a somewhat cocky leader toting his interests in the name of Starfleet. However, I do have a few favorite episodes. I love "Amok Time" because it talks about Vulcan reproduction and "Space Seed" because it gave birth to The Wrath of Khan, which I will never stop loving.
The Next Generation (TNG) for a long time was my favorite. Because Picard isn't the macho eye-candy that Kirk was, the plot doesn't depend on fighting to get the action through. Instead, it works more with the diplomacy and inner conflict of the characters. Plus, it felt like a logical continuation of the Star Trek legacy as Starfleet moved further into the future and met different species.Therefore, there were new conflicts and we got to see the results of the actions taken with the previous series. It was here that the Trill were introduced and the whole Data/Dr. Soong ark which I loved because Data was my favorite character (don't ask why). However, I hated the Borg. Every time there was a Borg episode, I felt like the enjoyability of the series went away and it was returning to the brute force of TOS. It was fascinating that Picard was captured and assimilated, but after a while it felt like "The Borg are here. What do we do?" "I don't know, they're unstoppable." "Well, we better go try and stop them, then!". Give me a break.
 |
| Gah! Begone, hell beast!! |
 |
| Every one of these people is 100% bangable. |
Obviously, there is potential for fail in the Star Trek franchise, so why does DS9 stand above the rest? Well, first of all it is basically a sequel series to TNG, directly following the events established by it's sister series and even following some of the characters as they moved off of the Enterprise and onto the space station, Deep Space Nine. However, since the station was in a different location and was near the wormhole to the Delta Quadrant, there was potential to introduce new species and conflicts into the story.
There were also clear themes in DS9 that related to issues in the real world. The first episode, Emissary, deals with the DS9's commander, Sisko, coming to terms with the fact that he is basically a messiah in the Bajoran religion and this comes with a whole new bundle of responsibilities on top of the ones related to running a space station. DS9 primarily deals with the question of "what if religion is real and higher beings do exist?" and it mixes spirituality with science fiction quite well. The series also deals with the issue of imperialism and if powerful governments should interfere with the issues of less powerful ones. Most Bajorans don't want a Starfleet presence on their planet because they fear that they will loose their independence, and yet are reluctant to make them move out because Starfleet is the only thing holding back the Cardassians from invading again. In a post-Cold War world, the issue of protection and invasion is obviously relevant and is echoed quite well within the series.
And now there is my favorite part of DS9: Gul Dukat. He is just one of the villains in the series, and what makes him so amazing is that he is so complex. He starts out as the commander of DS9 during the Cardassian occupation of Bajor, is then banished from the Cardassian command, becomes a renegade, allies himself with Sisko, then goes back to the Cardassians, goes insane, and then ultimately goes rogue again and embroils himself in the feud he has with Bajor. He even stoops so low as to disguise himself as a Bajoran and sleeps with their spiritual leader. Dude, that's cold.
 |
| Dukat, the ultimate badass. |
Another great character I just have to mention is Jadzia Dax, a Trill whose conflicts I find thoroughly fascinating. As a Trill, she is implanted with a symbiont being who houses the memories of its previous hosts, so in fact she is many characters in one. She holds so much knowledge and history and is in a way without gender because the symbiont's previous host was male, which leads to a steamy lesbian-esque episode. However, the most intriguing aspect is when Jadzia dies and the Dax symbiont is implanted in another Trill, Ezri. Even though she is a new character, she still has Jadzia's memories and therefore it is hard to tell if she is really gone.
Now don't get me wrong, DS9 isn't without its flaws. The most obvious one for me is that I am not particularly fond of the commander, Benjamin Sisko. This might be just the actor and not the actual character, but his dialogue is extremely flat and is expression emotionless. This was probably an attempt to represent the figurative mask Sisko had to wear when he was remaining calm even though a whole bunch of bad things were happening around him, but even the emotional scenes seemed forced. Also the whole Dominion aspect of the series was a little complicated. The Dominion was basically the Borg of the series, although not as annoying. Plus there were the orbs that the crew had to find which made episodes more of a quest-based story rather than a science-fiction one, but I am willing to forgive all of that for the sheer greatness overall of the series. They addressed many relevant issues throughout the story and wove it well into the plot, instead of just episodes like "this one is about homosexuality but not really" like in TNG. I felt extremely invested in the struggles the characters had and genuinely cried during "The Seige of AR-558" and "Sacrifice of Angels". Sure, bits of the series got very silly, but because overall the series was good it didn't annoy me as much as when similar things happened in the other series.
So why is DS9 overlooked? I have no idea. Probably because it wasn't as bombastic as TOS and TNG, or as much of a failure as Voyager or Enterprise. There were no DS9 movies, only a nod to the series in First Contact and Insurrection. To me, it will always be the gem of the entire franchise and I will continue to locate a Bajoran earring and recite the Rules of Acquisition to show my allegiance to the characters.
Long live Bajor and Deep Space Nine!
(images from here, here, and here)
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Truer words were never spoken
So far, my summer has taken on a theme of British humor. I've been devouring Douglas Adams' books, insisting my sister read A Room with a View, and watching shows like The IT Crowd and QI. It was while watching an episode of QI that I heard the quote from Ambrose Bierce "War is God's way of teaching Americans geography". I laughed at how true it is.
Every time America is involved in a war, it is immediately fused into our culture. The details may be a little fuzzy, but at least we remember who we were fighting. With the Revolutionary War, it was England. The Civil War, the South (or the north, depending on where you live). Then there was Germany and Japan, Korea, Vietnam, and now the "War on Terror" which although isn't against a specific country it's geographic location has become familiar to society at large. I know, there were some other wars in there, but I doubt anyone remembers the Spanish-American or Mexican-American wars.
What I'm getting at is that our wars are somewhat classified and categorized geographically. Instead of calling our latest war "The War against Taliban", for a while it was mostly being called "The war in Iraq". I doubt anyone knew where Vietnam was on a map before we got involved there, let alone Cambodia or Laos. However, since that was where the action was and many families had people who fought over there, the region of Southeast Asia became more known to us. Coincidentally, I don't think people took Holland very seriously until we were trying to get the Nazis out.
To put a modern spin on this, what if Osama Bin Laden had been hiding in Kosovo instead of Pakistan? Instead of talking about Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan we would have the names Slovenia and Bosnia and Herzegovina on our lips and in our news. We could look on a map and the names would hold more meaning than they do now. For instance, when I here the name "Vietnam", I don't think of Saigon or Nem nướng, but rather of the late 60's, protests, and Lieutenant Dan. The only way Vietnam holds any relevance in our culture is in the context of war.
Are other countries like this? I'm sure they are, but I think I know why America's trouble with geography and world knowledge is so apparent. Compared to the rest of the world, the United States is a relatively young country. Just over two hundred years compared to England or France who had established monarchies way back around the year 600 or so. They've had more time to get into skirmishes and have that knowledge become part of the relative culture. Even outside of the context of war, European countries have had more time to interact and learn about each other while America was toddling along and trying to acquire enough territories to look like a threat to anyone who stepped foot there again. Queen Victoria became the common denominator whenever European royalty was concerned, and the Hapsburgs and Bourbons did there fair share of cultural spread too. As marriages and alliances were made (more often at the same time than not), a little bit of other countries leaked to their neighbors. Another little tidbit I got from the same episode of QI was that the national anthem of the Netherlands still swears some allegiance to the King of Spain from when the Netherlands were under Spanish control.
America is still young and learning about the world. We Americans are still learning, however we go about it like a 20 year old man who is just a bit too cocky: by getting in fights. We only recognize the people we have fought, are currently fighting, or who helped us fight someone else. The rest are just bystanders, so it would seem. I'm not suggesting that the US should fight every country in the world in order for its population to pass 7th grade Geography tests. I just wanted to remark at how little we Americans know about our world. Every day it seems like there are wars and battles fought around the world that we know little to nothing about merely because they don't affect us directly. I am amazed when I watch British TV shows and realize they know so much more about Europe than I do.
If you like British humor or love trivia shows, definitely check out QI. For now, I will leave you with this little taste:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsHg3wsqTzI
(images from here and here)
 |
| Sorry, Teddy. I'm sure you did good. |
What I'm getting at is that our wars are somewhat classified and categorized geographically. Instead of calling our latest war "The War against Taliban", for a while it was mostly being called "The war in Iraq". I doubt anyone knew where Vietnam was on a map before we got involved there, let alone Cambodia or Laos. However, since that was where the action was and many families had people who fought over there, the region of Southeast Asia became more known to us. Coincidentally, I don't think people took Holland very seriously until we were trying to get the Nazis out.
To put a modern spin on this, what if Osama Bin Laden had been hiding in Kosovo instead of Pakistan? Instead of talking about Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan we would have the names Slovenia and Bosnia and Herzegovina on our lips and in our news. We could look on a map and the names would hold more meaning than they do now. For instance, when I here the name "Vietnam", I don't think of Saigon or Nem nướng, but rather of the late 60's, protests, and Lieutenant Dan. The only way Vietnam holds any relevance in our culture is in the context of war.
 | ||||||
| I might be related to Victoria herself as well as her nursemaid. |
America is still young and learning about the world. We Americans are still learning, however we go about it like a 20 year old man who is just a bit too cocky: by getting in fights. We only recognize the people we have fought, are currently fighting, or who helped us fight someone else. The rest are just bystanders, so it would seem. I'm not suggesting that the US should fight every country in the world in order for its population to pass 7th grade Geography tests. I just wanted to remark at how little we Americans know about our world. Every day it seems like there are wars and battles fought around the world that we know little to nothing about merely because they don't affect us directly. I am amazed when I watch British TV shows and realize they know so much more about Europe than I do.
If you like British humor or love trivia shows, definitely check out QI. For now, I will leave you with this little taste:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsHg3wsqTzI
(images from here and here)
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Women's problems
Why is it that women in general hate getting their period? I know I certainly don't like it. It might be due to the fact that my back hurts, my stomach hurts, I'm tired, my head aches, I'm irritable, and there's blood leaking out of an orifice of my body. Other than that, the whole experience is rather swell.
Or it could be the fact that we aren't given a reason to like having our period. There are no great ceremonies or rituals involved, no reward for reaching womanhood, and absolutely no hanging out eating cake like in Anita Diamont's The Red Tent. In fact, Western culture is rather dismissive of "woman's issues". Hippocrates said that hysteria (from hystera) was due to the fact that the uterus would wander around the body and interfere with basic functions instead of the fact that ancient Greek women had to worry about cooking, cleaning, children, keeping everyone's tunic clean, and the lack of Always pads in the 4th century BC. Menstruation quickly became the symbol of a girl's fertility, which then got linked to marriage, which then got linked to marrying the girl off to the most advantageous man available so that she can get right on that whole "making babies" thing as quickly as possible. In more recent centuries, as women have entered the modern work environment they've found that it's even less conducive to menstruation. There simply aren't enough bathroom breaks allowed during the day to make sure that you are "covered", as it were, so most of the day you are wondering whether or not your pants will be clean by the time you get home.
Plus, there's the whole attitude that men have been portrayed as developing in the media. If a woman is angry or irritable, usually a comment like "Take a Midol" or "she's PMS-ing" is quick to follow. I think men comment more often on PMS because it is what they have more contact with. They receive most of the snippy comments and short temper, and so they perceive that as the worst part of the menstrual process because it's the worst for them. Excuse me, but the inner lining of my reproductive organs is leaching into my underpants, so I think I have a right to be irritable. How would men like it if the lining of their ears decided once a month to evacuate itself to an extent that they would have to strap wads of cotton to their heads and change them every few hours. I bet they wouldn't like it when ear time came around.
Now apart from the negative aspects of menstruation, there are some hidden benefits. Although there isn't an instant camaraderie of women who share in the joy of being linked with nature, there is the unwritten rule that no woman must deny another any menstrual products. That would be cruel. You may only have pads when your friend needs a tampon, but at least you offered. Plus, every middle school girl knows to answer honestly when another asks "is there anything on the back of my pants?".
The strangest positive aspect of getting my period, at least for me, was the fact that it was the one thing in my life I absolutely had to take care of. I was solely responsible for making sure that I had enough pads for the next month, making sure that I was wearing the right one before I went to sleep, and gauging how long I could go before I had to stop by the bathroom. As I entered what was traditionally considered adulthood, at least by my body, I had this one little slice of responsibility to take care of.
However, now that I have school, a summer job, and a whole slew of more grown-upy things to worry about, I hate to add my period to the list. My period has gone from an early state of reverence to an annoyance, albeit a rather minor one. It's just one more thing I have to think about during the day, and that's why I don't enjoy it. Maybe if life was a little slower I could find myself attuning with nature and enjoying the cycle of my fertility, but for now all I want to attune with is the nearest source of chocolate.
(images from here and here)
Or it could be the fact that we aren't given a reason to like having our period. There are no great ceremonies or rituals involved, no reward for reaching womanhood, and absolutely no hanging out eating cake like in Anita Diamont's The Red Tent. In fact, Western culture is rather dismissive of "woman's issues". Hippocrates said that hysteria (from hystera) was due to the fact that the uterus would wander around the body and interfere with basic functions instead of the fact that ancient Greek women had to worry about cooking, cleaning, children, keeping everyone's tunic clean, and the lack of Always pads in the 4th century BC. Menstruation quickly became the symbol of a girl's fertility, which then got linked to marriage, which then got linked to marrying the girl off to the most advantageous man available so that she can get right on that whole "making babies" thing as quickly as possible. In more recent centuries, as women have entered the modern work environment they've found that it's even less conducive to menstruation. There simply aren't enough bathroom breaks allowed during the day to make sure that you are "covered", as it were, so most of the day you are wondering whether or not your pants will be clean by the time you get home.
Now apart from the negative aspects of menstruation, there are some hidden benefits. Although there isn't an instant camaraderie of women who share in the joy of being linked with nature, there is the unwritten rule that no woman must deny another any menstrual products. That would be cruel. You may only have pads when your friend needs a tampon, but at least you offered. Plus, every middle school girl knows to answer honestly when another asks "is there anything on the back of my pants?".
The strangest positive aspect of getting my period, at least for me, was the fact that it was the one thing in my life I absolutely had to take care of. I was solely responsible for making sure that I had enough pads for the next month, making sure that I was wearing the right one before I went to sleep, and gauging how long I could go before I had to stop by the bathroom. As I entered what was traditionally considered adulthood, at least by my body, I had this one little slice of responsibility to take care of.
However, now that I have school, a summer job, and a whole slew of more grown-upy things to worry about, I hate to add my period to the list. My period has gone from an early state of reverence to an annoyance, albeit a rather minor one. It's just one more thing I have to think about during the day, and that's why I don't enjoy it. Maybe if life was a little slower I could find myself attuning with nature and enjoying the cycle of my fertility, but for now all I want to attune with is the nearest source of chocolate.
(images from here and here)
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Enough is too much
I recently finished Better Off, by Eric Brende and I've started to think about all the so-called "helpful" devices we use on a daily basis. I've really started to notice it at work, where I'm a cashier.
Our system is very outdated. It's actually a DOS system, so we're about 20 years behind some other companies out there. A bunch of the people complain about how clunky it is, which is partly justified because it is very slow, and they pray for the giant overhaul that's due in the next couple of years. In all likelihood, our computers will be replaced with touchscreens and a whole new system to learn. Therefore, each employee will have to be trained all over again, which will take time and money. So much for time-saving operating systems!
Adjoined to the computers is the credit signature pad. Everyone hates these, whether they are employee or customer. The customers complain about that the screens are scratched, their signature doesn't look neat, the glare of the sun, the screen is dirty, the buttons aren't clearly labeled, it's at an awkward label, and that they "weren't made for left-handed people". Plus, our particular machines have trouble with certain cards and a good amount of the time the cards don't work on the pads. The employees the pads because there are too many prompts that the customers sometimes miss, and when you are trying to finish a transaction quickly during a busy day, waiting for the customer to hit a button can be a little frustrating (especially when they don't hit the button hard enough)
With so many glitches that could happen and errors, be they cashier or customer, it's no wonder that the self-checkout machine was created. This is the worst error in retail history. The machines, at least the ones where I work, are very picky. They know the exact weight of each item, so if you so much as set your wallet in the bagging area the system will alert and call for an employee override. Or you could chose to skip the bagging process if you have a lot of items or awkward boxes. However, if you skip bagging for an item over a certain amount, you need an override. Same if you take an item out of the bagging area, the scale doesn't get the weight, or any number of little mess ups. To give all of these overrides, they have a cashier stand in the area to wait for such instances.
Why do we need to pay someone to work the self-checkout registers? Frankly, I don't know why we even have them in our store. There are too many items without barcodes, but luckily so far none of them have come through that area when I was there. We also have a lot of items with those magnetic inventory tags that need to be deactivated, and most of them are in items that you wouldn't expect them to be in (like air-conditioner filters and bottles of Round-Up). Some people come up with pieces of lumber which do have barcode tags, but they spend a good amount of the time trying to maneuver the wood so that the code will scan. Although you only need to pay one person to look over four machines, the finickyness of the machines and the nature of the merchandise we sell makes the whole self-checkout area a bad idea.
There are some parts of our register system that are necessary. For instance, the fact that the whole thing is a glorified adding machine is a good base. I like that you can immediately see what items are scanned and the price, and you can also go back and change any mistakes easily (for the most part). We can also look up items without them being physically there if they are too big or bulky to go through the checkout lines. The big bonus is that it adds everything for you. There have been times when I was stuck figuring out change in my head and it's taken far longer than if the machine did it. I'm not saying that the whole machine could and should replace mental math. I think the reason I had trouble with it was because I haven't had a lot of practice doing mental math. For most of my life, there was always a machine to do it for me.
Although the machines do create a lot of problems, they also solve them. If we were to get rid of the signature pads, we would have to go back to signing for credit cards on the receipt, and then we would have to think about making sure the whole store was stocked with pens. A small necessity, but pens are misplaced, go dry, or just plain get stolen on a daily basis. Plus, debit cards couldn't be used without the ability to punch in a PIN. If we got rid of the computers all together and just went with a calculator or adding machine, we couldn't look up orders or go back and change mistakes easily.
I'm torn. I realize that the computers at work make as many problems as they solve, however I also appreciate the fact that everything is all in one place (for the most part). Doing away with the entire system would mean dismantling credit, debit, and gift cards. Maybe these machines are just the result of a greater problem. People want things faster now, so the ideal system would know exactly what you were buying so when you walked out the door all you had to do was touch your card to a receiver, a receipt would print, and you would be on your way without dealing with any complicated machinery. But then of course, if that system went down, it would be complete chaos. Until the rate at people want things and the rate at which they get them is synchronized, people will be frustrated by machines that are too sensitive or not sensitive enough because they get bogged down with problems. What are we to do?
Our system is very outdated. It's actually a DOS system, so we're about 20 years behind some other companies out there. A bunch of the people complain about how clunky it is, which is partly justified because it is very slow, and they pray for the giant overhaul that's due in the next couple of years. In all likelihood, our computers will be replaced with touchscreens and a whole new system to learn. Therefore, each employee will have to be trained all over again, which will take time and money. So much for time-saving operating systems!
Adjoined to the computers is the credit signature pad. Everyone hates these, whether they are employee or customer. The customers complain about that the screens are scratched, their signature doesn't look neat, the glare of the sun, the screen is dirty, the buttons aren't clearly labeled, it's at an awkward label, and that they "weren't made for left-handed people". Plus, our particular machines have trouble with certain cards and a good amount of the time the cards don't work on the pads. The employees the pads because there are too many prompts that the customers sometimes miss, and when you are trying to finish a transaction quickly during a busy day, waiting for the customer to hit a button can be a little frustrating (especially when they don't hit the button hard enough)
With so many glitches that could happen and errors, be they cashier or customer, it's no wonder that the self-checkout machine was created. This is the worst error in retail history. The machines, at least the ones where I work, are very picky. They know the exact weight of each item, so if you so much as set your wallet in the bagging area the system will alert and call for an employee override. Or you could chose to skip the bagging process if you have a lot of items or awkward boxes. However, if you skip bagging for an item over a certain amount, you need an override. Same if you take an item out of the bagging area, the scale doesn't get the weight, or any number of little mess ups. To give all of these overrides, they have a cashier stand in the area to wait for such instances.
Why do we need to pay someone to work the self-checkout registers? Frankly, I don't know why we even have them in our store. There are too many items without barcodes, but luckily so far none of them have come through that area when I was there. We also have a lot of items with those magnetic inventory tags that need to be deactivated, and most of them are in items that you wouldn't expect them to be in (like air-conditioner filters and bottles of Round-Up). Some people come up with pieces of lumber which do have barcode tags, but they spend a good amount of the time trying to maneuver the wood so that the code will scan. Although you only need to pay one person to look over four machines, the finickyness of the machines and the nature of the merchandise we sell makes the whole self-checkout area a bad idea.
There are some parts of our register system that are necessary. For instance, the fact that the whole thing is a glorified adding machine is a good base. I like that you can immediately see what items are scanned and the price, and you can also go back and change any mistakes easily (for the most part). We can also look up items without them being physically there if they are too big or bulky to go through the checkout lines. The big bonus is that it adds everything for you. There have been times when I was stuck figuring out change in my head and it's taken far longer than if the machine did it. I'm not saying that the whole machine could and should replace mental math. I think the reason I had trouble with it was because I haven't had a lot of practice doing mental math. For most of my life, there was always a machine to do it for me.
Although the machines do create a lot of problems, they also solve them. If we were to get rid of the signature pads, we would have to go back to signing for credit cards on the receipt, and then we would have to think about making sure the whole store was stocked with pens. A small necessity, but pens are misplaced, go dry, or just plain get stolen on a daily basis. Plus, debit cards couldn't be used without the ability to punch in a PIN. If we got rid of the computers all together and just went with a calculator or adding machine, we couldn't look up orders or go back and change mistakes easily.
I'm torn. I realize that the computers at work make as many problems as they solve, however I also appreciate the fact that everything is all in one place (for the most part). Doing away with the entire system would mean dismantling credit, debit, and gift cards. Maybe these machines are just the result of a greater problem. People want things faster now, so the ideal system would know exactly what you were buying so when you walked out the door all you had to do was touch your card to a receiver, a receipt would print, and you would be on your way without dealing with any complicated machinery. But then of course, if that system went down, it would be complete chaos. Until the rate at people want things and the rate at which they get them is synchronized, people will be frustrated by machines that are too sensitive or not sensitive enough because they get bogged down with problems. What are we to do?
Thursday, June 9, 2011
When did "size 12" become a curse word?
Why in the world does society favor slimmer shapes? I know, there are a lot of other people complaining all over the place about how Western culture favors a body type that only a small percentage of women have, but I wonder why that is.
Maybe it's purely media-related. Before the 1960's, curvier women were prized over thinner ones. Once Twiggy hit it big, however, it seemed that the slimmer you were the more desirable you were. Or maybe it's all part of the irony of our Western eating habits. We continue to value a small shape while the "obesity epidemic" continues to ravage our homes. We continue to prize smaller figures as they become more and more rare.
Still, I am confused. Throughout the majority of our history, plumper women were seen as fertile, and therefore desirable. Renaissance art depicts women with rolls over their tummies; women from the 15th century until the late 19th century wore bum rolls, farthingales, and paniers to make their hips look wider, and the 18th century favored thick legs. What it all comes down to is that during the Colonial era, I would have had a hot body.
I'll say it: I'm a size 12. Why has that become such a bad thing to say now days? I admit, I have had weight issues all throughout my life and a few times I climbed up to a size 16, but I realize that I will never be a size 6. I am just not built that way. I think at my smallest I would be able to fit into a size 10, although I don't remember ever being that size. Even then, by modern standards that would be on the plump side.
Weight loss commercials are making us believe that under all those layers of fat there is a size 4 waiting to emerge like a well-toned butterfly. When I see the before and after pictures I think "Was all that girth in her hips really just fat? Where were her hip bones all that time?". It would be nice if I could smooth out some of the rolls that I have in front, but I don't expect to be model-thin after the whole process.
Another strike against me on society's tally board is my weight. I am elated to be 203 pounds. Want to know why? Because this time last year I was hovering between 215 and 225. I know, that's a big margin to hover in but that's how it was. I obviously lost a couple of inches in the process making the size 12 jeans that were a little snug on me become more comfortable and even get a little loose with wear, even though I still have another pair of new jeans that are pretty tight when I first put them on. The point I am trying to make is that I've accepted that this is the bracket of weight and size that I am in.
The thing is, I don't feel like I look 200 pounds. In fact, there was a point in time when I weighed more than my mother yet somehow looked a little thinner. This was all due to body shape. I hate to use the old "I have big bones" argument, but let me put it this way: the shape of my bones gives me a wider shape. Feeble, I know, but I just want to make the case that different body types are not just fat-layer deep.
I try to be optimistic, but there was one time in the past year when my confidence took a serious blow. I went to my college's health services to check out a bug I caught, so the did the old height and weight measurements just like every time I go to the doctor's office. Then, I was 206 pounds. The doctor said "I noticed you're a little overweight" and offered to refer me to a nutritionist. Obviously, she didn't see my look of happiness when I saw that I had lost nine pounds since my last weigh-in. Plus, whatever I had been doing before I got to the office was obviously working to help me lose weight. I know next to nothing about the BMI system and perhaps I am trying to make myself an exception, but was I indeed fat by modern standards?
In any case, I expect to lose a good amount of weight come next semester. This will probably be because I won't be able to eat any junk food and will instead be eating apples and actual vegetables on nights other than weekends. Also, I think part of my success is the fact that I wasn't trying to lose weight, but rather I was trying to keep weight off. When I am trying to lose weight actively, I become stressed and even more intrigued by "forbidden fruit" foods. Instead of making myself swear that I would never eat another brownie, I would compromise and say that I could have dessert today, but I couldn't make a habit of it. I gradually stepped down from eating constantly and negotiated with myself. Plus, I took the stairs. Living on the eighth floor never felt like a blessing until my pants fit better.
(images from here and here)
Maybe it's purely media-related. Before the 1960's, curvier women were prized over thinner ones. Once Twiggy hit it big, however, it seemed that the slimmer you were the more desirable you were. Or maybe it's all part of the irony of our Western eating habits. We continue to value a small shape while the "obesity epidemic" continues to ravage our homes. We continue to prize smaller figures as they become more and more rare.
 |
| Okay, is big-boned. Whale bone, that is! |
I'll say it: I'm a size 12. Why has that become such a bad thing to say now days? I admit, I have had weight issues all throughout my life and a few times I climbed up to a size 16, but I realize that I will never be a size 6. I am just not built that way. I think at my smallest I would be able to fit into a size 10, although I don't remember ever being that size. Even then, by modern standards that would be on the plump side.
Weight loss commercials are making us believe that under all those layers of fat there is a size 4 waiting to emerge like a well-toned butterfly. When I see the before and after pictures I think "Was all that girth in her hips really just fat? Where were her hip bones all that time?". It would be nice if I could smooth out some of the rolls that I have in front, but I don't expect to be model-thin after the whole process.
Another strike against me on society's tally board is my weight. I am elated to be 203 pounds. Want to know why? Because this time last year I was hovering between 215 and 225. I know, that's a big margin to hover in but that's how it was. I obviously lost a couple of inches in the process making the size 12 jeans that were a little snug on me become more comfortable and even get a little loose with wear, even though I still have another pair of new jeans that are pretty tight when I first put them on. The point I am trying to make is that I've accepted that this is the bracket of weight and size that I am in.
The thing is, I don't feel like I look 200 pounds. In fact, there was a point in time when I weighed more than my mother yet somehow looked a little thinner. This was all due to body shape. I hate to use the old "I have big bones" argument, but let me put it this way: the shape of my bones gives me a wider shape. Feeble, I know, but I just want to make the case that different body types are not just fat-layer deep.
I try to be optimistic, but there was one time in the past year when my confidence took a serious blow. I went to my college's health services to check out a bug I caught, so the did the old height and weight measurements just like every time I go to the doctor's office. Then, I was 206 pounds. The doctor said "I noticed you're a little overweight" and offered to refer me to a nutritionist. Obviously, she didn't see my look of happiness when I saw that I had lost nine pounds since my last weigh-in. Plus, whatever I had been doing before I got to the office was obviously working to help me lose weight. I know next to nothing about the BMI system and perhaps I am trying to make myself an exception, but was I indeed fat by modern standards?
 |
| The Graces once encompassed all that was ideally feminine |
(images from here and here)
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