She's crafty

It may be impossible, but my dream is to be the Noah's ark of yarn and thread crafting. I absolutely can't get enough. Crammed under my little dorm extra-long twin bed, I have supplies for knitting, crochet, cross-stitching, spinning, and a touch of sewing (but only under extreme duress). Back home I still have my bobbin-lacemaking supplies which have been looking a little abandoned lately (your day will come, my lovelies). Somewhere I have a tatting shuttle which I still have no idea how to use. I also have a list of new skills I wish to acquire, including:

• spinning on a spinning wheel
• using a sewing machine
• actually learning to shuttle and/or needle tat
• card weaving
• triangle loom weaving
• regular loom weaving
• embroidery beyond cross-stitching

I'm sure there are more, I just haven't found them yet. To compound the problem, I have half-finished projects stashed nearly everywhere. I have a blanket I've been working on for almost a year, but now that it's more than halfway done it's fairly heavy to work with. I have several doilies abandoned at the point when they either ask me to break of the thread and re-join it on a different stitch or when I have no idea what the pattern is saying. Or if it starts to ruffle too much. I have a crochet string bag barely past the base and a dragon who is nearly done but still needs wings (I dread the wings).

Not to mention all of the yarn I've spun on my Turkish drop spindle which my amazing roommate got me for Christmas, but for some reason I never use any of it. Maybe it's because I'm mostly using cheap wool with bits of vegetation still trapped in the fibers, or maybe because I've already gone through one leg of the journey with the fiber and I think that's far enough to take our relationship. Or maybe I keep saying "ooh, shiney!". After the dragon I am going to make a crochet version of Jiji from Kiki's Delivery Service, maybe another doily, a hat, possibly a new cross-stitch project, and then I'll consider all of the other projects. Oops!

I love having all of these skills. Give me a pair of needles, I can make you a scarf or anything else. A crochet hook? I'll try to sketch up a pattern for a filet crochet doily or dig into the internet to make a stuffed animal. My pattern making software has not only allowed me to make cross-stitch patterns, but also filet crochet patterns and even the color-working for my Star Trek sweater project of two years ago. All of these arts are basically disappearing. You can't buy any good lace bobbins outside of the UK and you can barely find anyone who does most of these crafts who is under 50.

It's sad, because you can do some amazing things out of yarn and thread. I've been trying to get my boyfriend to take up crochet because I think he'll love the pattern manipulation that forms amigurumi. Bobbin lace is absolutely incredible, but I dread the day when we will ask how it was made and the only answer will be "I don't know, but they did it". Crafting will not become the next Stonehenge as long as I can help it. Even if I only learn the basic skills for each craft I want to know, I'll at least have a foundation to grow off of.

Now if only I could get a good number of Midlands bobbins, I could really make some awesome lace!

Why don't you get a job?

One of the biggest fears for kids of my generation is that there are going to be no jobs for us after college. We're all gearing up. I'm sticking with my undergraduate major in psychology because "I can get hired anywhere". I have no idea if there is an validity in that statement, but it gives me hope.

The standards are a lot higher than when my parents and grandparents went to school. Back then, a high school degree was like a bachelor's degree now. That means that I have to invest hundreds of thousands of dollars in education just so that I can be considered for jobs. Also, we're going to hit the job market at one of it's toughest times and we're going to have to compete with other people our age with nearly the same credentials. Not only am I stressed about how far I'm going to have to take my education (and how I'm going to pay for it), but I also have to find the time to pump up my resume with research and other extracurricular pursuits.  I'm freaking out, worrying that I don't have enough time to devote to my schoolwork, training for my job (so I can pay for food/grad school), looking for undergraduate research work, and still finding time to relax so that I don't go insane and can function at a normal level.

And what do I keep hearing? Get a job. The general conception is that there are too many people, not just college students, lazing about and complaining that they can't afford basic necessities like health care or good food. Everyone thinks they should get jobs. They make it sound so simple. What about the fact that there are probably too many overqualified applicants for positions, making it that much more competitive to get a position. Or maybe there simply aren't enough jobs. A couple years ago our parents were dealing with fears of being laid off and in a few more years, we're not only going to have to compete with our own age group but also older people still in the job hunt.

What particularly frustrates me is that section of an application where you list prior experience in the workplace. Until this past summer, I had none. I had to list my position as "volunteer" at the local hospital and my salary as "0". What is particularly frustrating is when I have to give the reason for leaving the position and I have to write "I stopped volunteering so that I could get a paid job". See how well that worked out. It seems that all jobs expect some sort of past experience, but what if you can't get your foot in the door? It seems like there are fewer entry-level jobs being offered nowadays and yet you can't be hired without prior experience.

I'm sorry, all you people who say "just get a job". It's just not that easy.

How Disney awakended my sexuality

I am extremely happy that I grew up during the Disney Renaissance. I can still remember those advertisements on the VHS tapes saying “Coming summer of 1998….”  or having one of the Channel Surfers tell me about how the animators of Tarzan took inspiration from surfers and skateboarders. Since I didn’t get cable until I was almost 10, my childhood was mostly shaped by these movies. In our tape cupboard in the TV room, there is a fairly impressive collection of Disney DVDs. I don’t have all, but needless to say I have all of the princess ones. And in a way, despite Disney’s squeaky-clean and family-oriented image, they helped to introduce me to the concept of sexuality.

Source

In the beginning, there was Ariel. Extremely goofy bangs aside, she is pretty attractive. It seems like the earlier princesses of the Disney company were very conservatively dressed, coming straight out of fairly conservative eras. However, with The Little Mermaid, Disney was dealing with a concept that was already loaded with sexuality. In fact, I think I heard once that the legend of mermaids came about by extremely horny sailors spotting manatees and wanting have sex with them. But I might be off the mark here. In any case, one thing can be said for Ariel’s attire: the only thing keeping us from seeing her boobs is a pair of shells. That’s it. Plus, her midriff is showing. This was intriguing to me because I first saw this movie in the mid-90’s (I was born in 1991). At the time, cropped shirts were fairly commonplace and I somehow instantly internalized the notion that a bare stomach was sexy. In fact, I thought belly-buttons were supposed to be sexy before I discovered breasts. Ariel had the whole package. I realized there was something provocative about her and how she was dressed (or not. There aren’t really any “clothes” to speak of) and that started to get me thinking that about what makes people attractive.

Why is the human form so ugly?!   Source

 

Once that seed was planted, Beauty and the Beast started to develop the idea that characteristics other than physical ones could be sexy too. It seems like almost every girl I talk to who is a fan of Beauty and the Beast experienced the same emotional journey as Belle. In the beginning, Beast is downright scary. He’s big, he looks like a cross between a vampire bat, a werewolf, and the devil, and he snarls. Enough said, and Belle has every right to hide in her room. But then the story feeds us little girls the myth that we all wish was true: men can be changed. You can take a gruff and emotionally abusive man and turn him into a kind person who feeds birds with you. Sheer bliss. Beast’s edges soften, he gives Belle the library, and then there’s that amazing ballroom scene. Who didn’t want that dress? By the final battle, the Beast was sexy. He had that deep voice, he would do anything to protect Belle (even letting her go), and yet still had the bad boy thing going for him. I didn’t care what he looked like; I loved him. And then he had to go and turn into a human. That was the most disappointing transformation ever. He didn’t even keep his gravelly voice. When he and Belle are dancing together in the end, I keep thinking that she could do better. She doesn’t look as happy with the human prince as she did with Beast. Good looks actually killed his sex appeal for me, and left me longing for the “monster” that the whole movie wanted to get rid of.

And then there was Aladdin. Oh dear goodness, I don’t know who to be attracted to in that movie. First off, there’s the title character. He’s adorable, a bad boy, and his vest is open. Need I say more? 

D'aww!   Source

Plus, his voice is so soothing when he sings…. Really, he seems like a fun guy. He takes you places, he’s willing to do anything for you (even lie), and he fights a giant snake. Perfect boyfriend? Possibly. But then there’s Jasmine. Damn she’s hot! Her design harkens back to my interest in Ariel what with the bare stomach and ample cleavage, and her voice is low and sultry. Plus, she doesn’t take sh*t from anyone! A light bulb really flickered on for me when she tries to seduce Jafar in order to divert attention from Aladdin stealing Genie’s lamp. My reaction was pretty much the same as Genie’s. The scarf ripples off of her and she moves like a cat. Hot. Damn.

Source

This was the point as a child that I realized that she had a certain…something, and that she was using it to get a man to do what she wanted. I didn’t quite know what sex actually was, but I did know that there was something about certain people that made me want to look at them or listen to them. I remember when I saw the cover of Cool World (I know, sooooo not a Disney flick) at the local video store and I was curious as to why the little cartoon guys at Holli’s feet were slobbering. 

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 Maybe it had something to do with her cleavage or her posture, but these were things that I had seen hinted at in Disney movies and with this cover it was adding more evidence that a certain….something made people act in a certain way. I now realize that what they were reflecting was sex appeal. I am not saying that Disney made me into a sex maniac. I just found it interesting that the most family-friendly entertainment company is what started making me think about what makes people attractive to other people.

Hey you, stay out of my cervix (and do you know what goes on in there anyway?)

I am not only outraged, but I'm terrified that the general trend for this country has been that white, middle-aged, Christian, upper-middle to upper class men have started to try and determine what a woman can do with her body. I know that these men do have followers who agree with their standpoints and that they represent a portion of the American people, however they do not speak for all Americans. 98% of American women use some form of birth control, so who are they to think that they can alienate the many to serve the few?

Take for instance Rick Santorum's stance against contraception. Not only abortion, contraception too. Am I the only one who thinks that this sounds irresponsible? And then there was Mitt Romney's mishap when he didn't understand hormonal birth control. It was so bad that a television host took it on herself to educate him. I think some people, my self included, feel that should at least know all the facts if they are going to oppose something outright.

The issue with reproductive rights that I see is that the people (men) who are so anti-abortion and anti-contraception is that they are unable to see the real world consequences. They seem to believe that America will turn into the old school Norman Rockwell painting where every man and woman having sex is married and they have as many children as possible by having bland and non-kinky sex and abstaining when they do not wish to have children (ignoring the male gender role that also comes along with this mindset in that men are animals who cannot control themselves when it comes to sex and that women are supposed to capitulate, or else not tempt them at all). What about us people who don't prescribe to this mindset? What about the married couple who own nipple clamps? What about the couple who want kids but are unable to support them? What about the people in a committed relationship but are unable to get married or those who simply do not want to get married at all. We can't just flip a switch and turn off our sexual urges, and it's not just men who think about sex constantly.

Western society has tried ignoring sex. In the Victorian era, women were thought to be pure, asexual beings while men were still the dogs that they are thought of as today. In order to maintain their wives' purity, men were not supposed to press their wives to have sex constantly. Instead, they were expected to discretely purge their urges by visiting prostitutes. Meanwhile, women would become agitated and become "hysteric", so they would have to visit a doctor who would administer a "pelvic massage" until the woman experienced a "hysterical paroxysm". Translation: the women were sexually frustrated so they went to the doctor who would then masturbate them until they had an orgasm. In fact, it's because of this sexual repression that the vibrator was invented so that women could "relieve" themselves at home without being at the doctors for literally hours. The vibrator was the fifth electrical device approved for home use.

So sex happens. And despite people's best attempts to be upstanding and abstinent citizens, it doesn't always work. Just look at Herman Cain and his sex scandals. And just think of us poor sods who aren't trying to be upstanding citizens. If sex does happen, everyone, not just women, deserve to have it safely and with minimal risk of disease or unwanted pregnancy. Sure, contraceptives don't work as well as flat out abstinence (a success rate of 99.99...%, counting the Virgin Mary), but at least it decreases the risk.

And what about if a woman does end up pregnant unexpectedly. What if the contraceptives fail, or if she is sexually assaulted because she was dressed "like a slut" (clothing doesn't cause rape, rapists do)? What if she can't support a child and giving it up for adoption would already add one more mouth to already crowded foster homes? It would make sense that she should be able to make the choice to have an abortion in a safe and controlled environment preformed by trained professionals who would minimize the risk of her having any complications. However, I feel like the majority of people who claim to represent the majority don't see it that way. I'm afraid that if it is harder to find a place that preforms abortions under professional care, there will be an increase of back-alley abortions that will result in hundreds if not thousands of women dying because of complications. Baby's father from Dirty Dancing isn't always going to be there to make sure the woman makes it out alright. And like it or not, contraception and abortion has been a part of our culture for centuries. The Classical world used the Silphium plant as a contraceptive, and this practice was so popular that the plant became extinct. In fact, it is speculated that the seeds of this plant are the reason for the Valentine "heart" shape.

Politicians need to look at the real consequences for their decisions of public health. They are focusing too much on the ideal and not enough on how people actually act. If I say "people are going to have sex, like it or not", the counter argument should not be "well they shouldn't!" Not everyone prescribes to a man's way of thinking, and if they are going to make decisions on what is and what is not allowed to happen in a uterus they should at least get the input of someone who has one

Stop it

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.

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

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...

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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!

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)

"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)

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?

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.

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!

My favorite scene. 

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)

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.

Happy Halloween!!

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.

Attack of the Killer Laziness!

This semester, it's all about money. And how to be an adult regarding money. What with the food budget and saving up to possibly rent an apartment next year with my friends, I'm having trouble copping with the fact that the sum of money I accumulated over the summer is quickly slipping away,and will continue to do so.

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.

I know I have more Cons than Pros. Truthfully, the Cons are probably things that I would be able to cope with given time. When I was a cashier, I had to get used to standing for eight hours a day and I eventually did (thanks to Dr. Scholls...). I think I could get used to the non-bathing and maybe even the farm work. My boyfriend said that he had a tough time with it in the beginning, and he's the out-doorsy type. Really the only thing that I would have a ton of trouble with would be the sun. I am tempted to bathe in SPF 75, but I don't think that would be feasible. I would definitely load up on sunblock before I went and try to wear clothes that cover me up, but that still could get tricky.

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)

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?