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.

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.

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.

*shudder*

 

 

(image from here)

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.

This as what I found when I Googled "catching a falling item" SO CUTE!

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!

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.

Oh yeah. She gets it

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)

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?

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.