So, I've read, in a couple places, some scathing commentary of an askmen.com article about how to "subtly" get your girlfriend to realize that she's gained weight (and of course that she's therefore less attractive). Most of it reads as a primer on how to passive-aggressively manipulate someone you purport to care about (um, at least to her) and the rest as out and out emotional abuse.
Now, my ex-husband was good at this. Not that I didn't already have bodily issues firmly implanted in my psyche before I met him, but he knew how to pluck at them in such a way as to optimally make me feel like shit when he wanted to. For example, when I was pregnant with D, I gained 30 pounds, a totally normal and healthy amount that my doctors were pleased about. This meant I came home from the hospital about 20pounds heavier than what I usually weighed in those days. My ex "jokingly" let me know that I had six months to get it off or he was gonna leave me. (Not that he himself wasn't probably 30 or 40 pounds overweight at the time, without gestating another person as an excuse. But that was okay, because guys are allowed to be "big.") Yeah, so obviously, he didn't need askmen.com to teach him to be a douchebag.
But poking around on that website, it's all like that. It's all--at least the relationship advice--a tutorial on how to treat women like shit, aimed at what I am sure is a young adult (male) audience. I don't know. Do any of them need douchebag lessons? Doesn't it come naturally to most of them? (Just like most magazines and websites aimed at young women are self-hatred lessons. Doesn't that come naturally to us?) Why is there a whole industry, a whole media, whose purpose it is to make people worse human beings? Does being nice to other people and having self-respect not sell product? Obviously not!
But why don't we reject it? Why, when I was a teenage girl, did I not read stuff about "the pencil test" or the "five pounds for every inch over five feet" and say, pfft? And why do even people my age--who you'd think would have figured out better for themselves by middle age at least--buy into what you see in the media: that relationships are about winning and losing and getting over on the other person? Why don't, or can't, we reject all the poisonous cultural messages? Why don't we want to? Why do we all sign up happily for douchebag school?
xoxo
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
be careful
...when you tell a friend in email "I swear to god, if she tells me ripping it all out is an option, I'll be like, 'sure! let's do it!'" because a few short hours later you may in fact be in stirrups while a very chic and pleasant gynecologist cheerfully informs you that she's going to have to grab ahold of your cervix and pull down on it.
Seriously, "rip it all out" was not meant to be taken literally, Universe.
xoxo
Seriously, "rip it all out" was not meant to be taken literally, Universe.
xoxo
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
checking in
1.) Not having the best of all possible weeks, health-wise and stress-wise, which is my excuse for not taking and posting those pics I am sure you are all waiting breathlessly--breathlessly, I tell you!--for. I'll get around to it.
2.) Of course, you have to know that now that I'm back to the house renos, I'm also back to looking at Rate My Space and the HGTV message boards, which is an exercise in masochism. And also, self-control. Here's a real question, paraphrased: "Do you allow sweaty workout clothes in your hamper? The stench from my husband's almost knocks me out." Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to answer, "Why, no, no, I do not! I expect my dirty laundry to smell of nothing but roses at all times!" But no one likes a wiseass.
3.) Omar from The Wire is in two new movies coming out this fall. If I ever went to the movies, I would probably go see them, 'cause that man is an actor, I'll tell you what. Always nice to see someone from that cast doing well. (Has anyone given Bodie a job yet? If not, someone get on it. Love me some Bodie. I'll start crying if I think too hard about his "death.")
4.) Related. As a writer (ha!), there is nothing as awesome to me as someone somewhere being so taken by one of your fictional characters that their "death" actually affects them.
5.) I would tell you about the vivid dream I had two nights ago, but honestly, I don't want to turn out to be One of Those People. Well, okay. It involved my uncle and aunt calling after midnight to see if my dad spoke French, which they were convinced he did, while meanwhile I was desperate to get them off the phone because my new roof was leaking. Because it was made of those plastic loops they used to make lawn chairs out of, and the rain could come right in.
xoxo
2.) Of course, you have to know that now that I'm back to the house renos, I'm also back to looking at Rate My Space and the HGTV message boards, which is an exercise in masochism. And also, self-control. Here's a real question, paraphrased: "Do you allow sweaty workout clothes in your hamper? The stench from my husband's almost knocks me out." Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to answer, "Why, no, no, I do not! I expect my dirty laundry to smell of nothing but roses at all times!" But no one likes a wiseass.
3.) Omar from The Wire is in two new movies coming out this fall. If I ever went to the movies, I would probably go see them, 'cause that man is an actor, I'll tell you what. Always nice to see someone from that cast doing well. (Has anyone given Bodie a job yet? If not, someone get on it. Love me some Bodie. I'll start crying if I think too hard about his "death.")
4.) Related. As a writer (ha!), there is nothing as awesome to me as someone somewhere being so taken by one of your fictional characters that their "death" actually affects them.
5.) I would tell you about the vivid dream I had two nights ago, but honestly, I don't want to turn out to be One of Those People. Well, okay. It involved my uncle and aunt calling after midnight to see if my dad spoke French, which they were convinced he did, while meanwhile I was desperate to get them off the phone because my new roof was leaking. Because it was made of those plastic loops they used to make lawn chairs out of, and the rain could come right in.
xoxo
Monday, July 6, 2009
pic of the week
No, it's not of my dining room. Have some patience. God.
No, actually this is much, much better.
See? That's a close up picture of Rihanna stolen from one of my favorite websites, gofugyourself, wherein they are poking some gentle, horrified fun at her for going to a fourth of July party in public wearing sequined pasties under a blazer, very festive, but not actually a wise fashion choice. But I am forced to repost it because, seriously? Are those not the prettiest boobs you have ever seen? When I am all depressed and full of bodily hatred and pining away for the days I was twenty and had beautiful breasts that were where they're supposed to be, even sans bra? That's kinda what they looked like. Except not quite as good, and of course pasty white, so Ms Rihanna wins, no contest. Holy crap. Those are pretty.
And, why yes, I *am* writing another boob post at work. I'm easing back into the work week. God.
xoxo
No, actually this is much, much better.
See? That's a close up picture of Rihanna stolen from one of my favorite websites, gofugyourself, wherein they are poking some gentle, horrified fun at her for going to a fourth of July party in public wearing sequined pasties under a blazer, very festive, but not actually a wise fashion choice. But I am forced to repost it because, seriously? Are those not the prettiest boobs you have ever seen? When I am all depressed and full of bodily hatred and pining away for the days I was twenty and had beautiful breasts that were where they're supposed to be, even sans bra? That's kinda what they looked like. Except not quite as good, and of course pasty white, so Ms Rihanna wins, no contest. Holy crap. Those are pretty.
And, why yes, I *am* writing another boob post at work. I'm easing back into the work week. God.
xoxo
Sunday, July 5, 2009
apparently
...I went to bed last night with dried paint on the soles of my feet. Oh. Would this correlate in any way with the fact that I dreamt I bought a box of mail-order bees? And that the UPS guy who delivered them recommended that in five days I feed them a dead woodchuck?
The vivid dreaming's been off the hook, yo.
Well, kids, yesterday I got the dining room half of the living room/dining room painted. I decided for my own mental sanity (shut up) that it made more sense to do two coats on half the space and then do the other half today, rather than one coat on everything each day. Especially since painting the dining room required taking everything out of the top of the china cabinet, because otherwise it was too heavy to move. So, basically yesterday every single surface in my kitchen was covered with glassware and dishes (which I [hand]washed before returning to the china cabinet, too, so yay!) My dad was disgruntled because there was nowhere to sit in the kitchen and about 12 inches of usable, uncovered countertop. I explained why all that crap was there. "Well, why did you need to paint *behind* the china cabinet? Who's gonna see it?" Once again, kids? THIS IS WHAT I PUT UP WITH.
Anyway, the dining room window faces east and I haven't put the curtain back up on it yet, so right now the room is flooding with light and the new wall color (clam chowder) which is a light creamy yellow/gold looks orange. It's very cool. That's one of the funnest, most interesting things about choosing paint colors, how different the same color looks in different rooms, at different times of day, under different weather conditions. I've had swatches up on different rooms in this house since, like, early March, and one of the colors that I'm pretty sure I'm going to use in one of the upstairs rooms actually looked optimal when it was snowing or there were snow clouds. It's still pretty in summer light, but that winter light made it absolutely gorgeous.
So! Did everyone who wasn't working their fingers to the bone have a fun holiday yesterday? Hope so! I would really like to go to the beach today instead of painting more, because I'm skeered this is our one nice weekend and then it will rain for another 40 days and 40 nights, but no. Gotta paint in here, so I can get this room put back together.
xoxo
The vivid dreaming's been off the hook, yo.
Well, kids, yesterday I got the dining room half of the living room/dining room painted. I decided for my own mental sanity (shut up) that it made more sense to do two coats on half the space and then do the other half today, rather than one coat on everything each day. Especially since painting the dining room required taking everything out of the top of the china cabinet, because otherwise it was too heavy to move. So, basically yesterday every single surface in my kitchen was covered with glassware and dishes (which I [hand]washed before returning to the china cabinet, too, so yay!) My dad was disgruntled because there was nowhere to sit in the kitchen and about 12 inches of usable, uncovered countertop. I explained why all that crap was there. "Well, why did you need to paint *behind* the china cabinet? Who's gonna see it?" Once again, kids? THIS IS WHAT I PUT UP WITH.
Anyway, the dining room window faces east and I haven't put the curtain back up on it yet, so right now the room is flooding with light and the new wall color (clam chowder) which is a light creamy yellow/gold looks orange. It's very cool. That's one of the funnest, most interesting things about choosing paint colors, how different the same color looks in different rooms, at different times of day, under different weather conditions. I've had swatches up on different rooms in this house since, like, early March, and one of the colors that I'm pretty sure I'm going to use in one of the upstairs rooms actually looked optimal when it was snowing or there were snow clouds. It's still pretty in summer light, but that winter light made it absolutely gorgeous.
So! Did everyone who wasn't working their fingers to the bone have a fun holiday yesterday? Hope so! I would really like to go to the beach today instead of painting more, because I'm skeered this is our one nice weekend and then it will rain for another 40 days and 40 nights, but no. Gotta paint in here, so I can get this room put back together.
xoxo
Friday, July 3, 2009
attitude adjustment
I needz wun. Here's my deal.
As those of you who are keeping track know, I work every Friday and Saturday, usually all day. Well, as July 4th falls on Saturday this year, all departments in the hospital that are not 365 departments (and we are not) were off today. So I decide to take both today and tomorrow off so that I might have three days off in a row, which never happens and which, frankly, is about the closest I get to a vacation. I thought this was my perfect opportunity to start another home improvement project.
So you know my cell was ringing at 8:15 this morning. I wasn't asleep per se--more in that delightful state where you're dozing off and on, and every time you wake up you think, do I need to be anywhere? do I need to get up and pee? no! just another twenty minutes then... It is, of course, my on-call doc with the sad tale of woe and the guilt-inducing "well, if you can't come in, you can't come in, I suppose we can keep the kid in till Monday..." Well, no, it's not like I have any plans I can't break. (My plans, such as they were, were to go out, do a few errands my dad's been nagging me about, and then come home and start washing the walls in the dining room/living room so D and I can paint tonight or tomorrow.) So I agree to do it and give the on-call doc an estimate of when I'll roll in. He thanks me, apologizes, and lets me know the he too had other things he was planning on doing today that this is totally bollixing up. Well, yeah, the difference is you're on call and I'm not.
So while I drink two mugs of coffee, enough to get me awake enough to get going, and then shower and dress, I try to go all zen and remind myself once again that this is why I have job security and that that's a precious thing to have these days. But I'm still feeling resentful, mainly because I feel like my good nature and my disinclination to say no is being abused. And I hate feeling like that.
My mother, in case you don't remember, was totally unable to say no, much much worse than me, and she lived her life in martyrdom alternately gratified by being needed and being extremely resentful and angry about it. I don't ever want to be my mother, so I try hard to curb myself when I see myself slipping in that direction. It's why I put limits on D and *try* to put limits on my dad: I know they need me but I expect respect from them, a modicum of thanks for what I do, and I reserve the right to say no, not now, and to take the time I need for myself. Work is no different. So saying yes and then feeling pissy about it? Don't like it. Say no and don't feel guilty, or say yes and don't be fucking whiny and resentful about it.
I get to work and my emergency is a beautiful seven week old baby whose parents don't come down with it (thank you Jesus) and who I thus basically end up with in my arms for 40 straight minutes while I test to keep it settled. In case you haven't figured this out, holding a baby for forty minutes puts me in an awesome mood. I leave work in less than two hours and I'm feeling like, okay, you did the right thing and all is well.
Then I go to do my errands. There are more people in friggin Shaws than I can remember ever seeing when there are *not* meteorologists on the air whipping them into a frenzy about three inches of snow, and 70% of them are over 65, very slow, and blocking the aisles with their carts. I go from no-longer-cranky to homicidal. I get to the bank, where I want to just use the ATM to make my dad's deposit he's been nagging me about (he's probably lost five whole cents in interest, yo) because there is a line in there to rival Shaws. The ATM is out of order. I am not about to go to another bank because I've stupidly already gotten the groceries. I am hot because I'm overdressed, partly because of the usually-frigid A/C in work and partly because it was cloudy when I left the house and now the sun is out. The traffic is ridiculous. I finally get home and it's 1:30 and I haven't eaten all day and my dad has eaten the last roll I was saving for my sandwich.
I am back to being a raging bitch.
Right now I am digesting the grilled cheese and tomato I made instead, and wondering if I have a glass of wine if it will interfere with my will to move furniture and wash walls. I'm guessing yes.
That is all.
I will post pics if I ever get anything painted this weekend, so stay tuned.
xoxo
As those of you who are keeping track know, I work every Friday and Saturday, usually all day. Well, as July 4th falls on Saturday this year, all departments in the hospital that are not 365 departments (and we are not) were off today. So I decide to take both today and tomorrow off so that I might have three days off in a row, which never happens and which, frankly, is about the closest I get to a vacation. I thought this was my perfect opportunity to start another home improvement project.
So you know my cell was ringing at 8:15 this morning. I wasn't asleep per se--more in that delightful state where you're dozing off and on, and every time you wake up you think, do I need to be anywhere? do I need to get up and pee? no! just another twenty minutes then... It is, of course, my on-call doc with the sad tale of woe and the guilt-inducing "well, if you can't come in, you can't come in, I suppose we can keep the kid in till Monday..." Well, no, it's not like I have any plans I can't break. (My plans, such as they were, were to go out, do a few errands my dad's been nagging me about, and then come home and start washing the walls in the dining room/living room so D and I can paint tonight or tomorrow.) So I agree to do it and give the on-call doc an estimate of when I'll roll in. He thanks me, apologizes, and lets me know the he too had other things he was planning on doing today that this is totally bollixing up. Well, yeah, the difference is you're on call and I'm not.
So while I drink two mugs of coffee, enough to get me awake enough to get going, and then shower and dress, I try to go all zen and remind myself once again that this is why I have job security and that that's a precious thing to have these days. But I'm still feeling resentful, mainly because I feel like my good nature and my disinclination to say no is being abused. And I hate feeling like that.
My mother, in case you don't remember, was totally unable to say no, much much worse than me, and she lived her life in martyrdom alternately gratified by being needed and being extremely resentful and angry about it. I don't ever want to be my mother, so I try hard to curb myself when I see myself slipping in that direction. It's why I put limits on D and *try* to put limits on my dad: I know they need me but I expect respect from them, a modicum of thanks for what I do, and I reserve the right to say no, not now, and to take the time I need for myself. Work is no different. So saying yes and then feeling pissy about it? Don't like it. Say no and don't feel guilty, or say yes and don't be fucking whiny and resentful about it.
I get to work and my emergency is a beautiful seven week old baby whose parents don't come down with it (thank you Jesus) and who I thus basically end up with in my arms for 40 straight minutes while I test to keep it settled. In case you haven't figured this out, holding a baby for forty minutes puts me in an awesome mood. I leave work in less than two hours and I'm feeling like, okay, you did the right thing and all is well.
Then I go to do my errands. There are more people in friggin Shaws than I can remember ever seeing when there are *not* meteorologists on the air whipping them into a frenzy about three inches of snow, and 70% of them are over 65, very slow, and blocking the aisles with their carts. I go from no-longer-cranky to homicidal. I get to the bank, where I want to just use the ATM to make my dad's deposit he's been nagging me about (he's probably lost five whole cents in interest, yo) because there is a line in there to rival Shaws. The ATM is out of order. I am not about to go to another bank because I've stupidly already gotten the groceries. I am hot because I'm overdressed, partly because of the usually-frigid A/C in work and partly because it was cloudy when I left the house and now the sun is out. The traffic is ridiculous. I finally get home and it's 1:30 and I haven't eaten all day and my dad has eaten the last roll I was saving for my sandwich.
I am back to being a raging bitch.
Right now I am digesting the grilled cheese and tomato I made instead, and wondering if I have a glass of wine if it will interfere with my will to move furniture and wash walls. I'm guessing yes.
That is all.
I will post pics if I ever get anything painted this weekend, so stay tuned.
xoxo
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