"Why aren't you....."
I'm tired today. I feel, as a woman, I've been tired for quite some time now, but after I was told I should have my "chick card" revoked because of a basket of tennies and slippers (aka flip flops), I just felt deflated. Mind you this basket sits just a few feet away from a huge bookshelf which is occupied entirely by heels. Nonetheless and once again, I'm just not 'girly' enough. But since everyone seems so interested in this, here's the deal.
I don't put bows in my hair - in fact, it annoys me. I don't like the color pink as some sort of feminine statement. I don't like helpless-acting girls or women who dumb themselves down. I wear a minimal amount of make up. I prefer to be wearing slippers and board shorts and a tank top, to dressing like a museum piece - though I don't always loathe dressing like a museum piece (there is probably some hearty debate to be had about whether I can pull that off, though). I don't care what people think about the fact that I'm a tomboy. I like sports. I like cars. I like being outside and doing things that involve getting sweaty and sometimes dirty.
I also like theater and music and the symphony. I like going to nice restaurants and going dancing and getting dressed up once in a while. However the presence of the items in the previous paragraph seem to perpetually make me undeserving of my "chick card". If this was the first - or even tenth time I'd heard that, it might not annoy me, but since it's pretty much on a repeating reel, I'm both perplexed and irritated.
I don't go on about how every man needs to be a certain way, so why must so many of my Y counterparts go on about me? Every man does not need to be able to fix or build any and everything. Every man does not need to be the most stellar athlete in the world. Every man does not need to dress just so or wear said shoes or have said hair. I wouldn't put that on someone, because that essentially reduces who they are to a few things and ignores who they are inside, completely. So why must women, and me in particular, be subjected to that? Why am I reduced to whether I wear a skirt to work everyday, how big my shoe collection is and how dolled up I get to go to the grocery store?
Again, this one instance by itself is not enough to upset me in the normal course of things, but it's something I've dealt with for pretty much my entire life, which leads me to believe I'm not the only one who gets picked on for not being useless and girly, so I'm going to speak up about how grating that is.
I feel I've made my point here and my irritation with this subject is growing, so I'll let it go. Suffice it to say however, apparently a nerve has been struck and the only way for me to get over it today will be to........do a sport until I'm too tired to be upset anymore. How ironic.
18 August, 2014
11 June, 2014
pats v. killers
Sometimes, people will do you a favor in life, and provide you with a simplified breakdown on things. I was fortunate enough to find one such thing today, courtesy of boingboing.net and I'd like to share it with you. Today's lesson is on spotting a patriot vs. deranged killer. Enjoy.
06 June, 2014
buzz buzz
First, and apropos to nothing, I cooked - really cooked and put the effort into a nice meal last night, for the first time in over a month...chicken thighs simmered in a curry sauce with oven roasted brussel sprouts on the side. For reference, I was generally cooking about 5 nights a week, prior to my hiatus. It felt good to be back on the horse.
More to the point of the title of this post however, is the sheer terror I experienced yesterday. People were nearly killed. The punchline is, no one sees the vehement attacker, they only see the crazy chick throwing phones and make up and running around waving her arms, while a stunned lunatic, conspiracy theorist watches in silence and awe nearby.
I had a meeting at the Hay-Adams hotel yesterday. The Hay-Adams, across the street from the White House, is super old-timey and not the sort of place into which one cruises to a meeting looking disheveled. Generally speaking, I do any makeup I wear on the train on the way to work and yesterday was no exception. The hotel is a good handful of stops before work however, so I was unable to finish applying my face. I decided to sit on a bench in the park facing the White House and finish things up.
This is where it all went wrong.
I was able to ignore the ranting conspiracy theorist and begin what should have been a two minute process, when out of nowhere came an incredibly large and aggressive bumble bee. This thing was the size of a half-dollar and had absolutely no intention of leaving me alone. I'm guessing it could smell my fear.
I waved my one free hand this way and that as it darted and bobbed and weaved, inching ever closer to my never-been-stung self and then it finally flew off. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued with the finishing touches to the eye that was previously bare. I should take the time to point out that it was a little Clockwork Orangey, walking around with only one eye's worth of make up on, but whatever. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the Volkswagen-sized bee comes charging with a vengeance and an angry, sinister look in his eye. I jumped up and began frantically waiving my arms, while simultaneously spilling my phone and my entire bag onto the walk in front of the bench. Which, as you'll recall is also in front of the White House and the fancy hotel. As the plainclothes started closing in on me, I gathered up my scattered belongings and skittered off - most likely with a red laser dot trained on me.
So here's what I say to that.... Fuck you, bee. You just made me look WORSE than a pacing, ranting conspiracy theorist in front of the damn White House and a nice hotel. But of course.....nobody sees the bee, they only see the crazy chick. I see you...you're making that "suuuuurrreee there was a bee. Riiiight" face. Not cool, dude. The bee was real, the bee was armed.
More to the point of the title of this post however, is the sheer terror I experienced yesterday. People were nearly killed. The punchline is, no one sees the vehement attacker, they only see the crazy chick throwing phones and make up and running around waving her arms, while a stunned lunatic, conspiracy theorist watches in silence and awe nearby.
I had a meeting at the Hay-Adams hotel yesterday. The Hay-Adams, across the street from the White House, is super old-timey and not the sort of place into which one cruises to a meeting looking disheveled. Generally speaking, I do any makeup I wear on the train on the way to work and yesterday was no exception. The hotel is a good handful of stops before work however, so I was unable to finish applying my face. I decided to sit on a bench in the park facing the White House and finish things up.
This is where it all went wrong.
I was able to ignore the ranting conspiracy theorist and begin what should have been a two minute process, when out of nowhere came an incredibly large and aggressive bumble bee. This thing was the size of a half-dollar and had absolutely no intention of leaving me alone. I'm guessing it could smell my fear.
I waved my one free hand this way and that as it darted and bobbed and weaved, inching ever closer to my never-been-stung self and then it finally flew off. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued with the finishing touches to the eye that was previously bare. I should take the time to point out that it was a little Clockwork Orangey, walking around with only one eye's worth of make up on, but whatever. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the Volkswagen-sized bee comes charging with a vengeance and an angry, sinister look in his eye. I jumped up and began frantically waiving my arms, while simultaneously spilling my phone and my entire bag onto the walk in front of the bench. Which, as you'll recall is also in front of the White House and the fancy hotel. As the plainclothes started closing in on me, I gathered up my scattered belongings and skittered off - most likely with a red laser dot trained on me.
So here's what I say to that.... Fuck you, bee. You just made me look WORSE than a pacing, ranting conspiracy theorist in front of the damn White House and a nice hotel. But of course.....nobody sees the bee, they only see the crazy chick. I see you...you're making that "suuuuurrreee there was a bee. Riiiight" face. Not cool, dude. The bee was real, the bee was armed.
22 May, 2014
crier
I was in a conversation with a new(er) face the other day, and he asked me something along the lines of how I like chick movies or romantic comedies or something like that. The point of that part of the conversation was to feel-out-slash-indulge the emotive chickness level. I always fail these tests, miserably.
I think I said something about romantic comedies being girl-porn and how sports were far more likely to get me choked up. I was met with a look of disgust, which honestly puzzled me. This was followed by a comment about not being 'girly' enough and my love of athletics being 'off-putting'. Obviously, this interaction demonstrated a lack of future potential, but being the social anthropologist I fancy myself to be, I decided to do a little mini clinical study on this particular individual to find out why a girl who likes sports is off-putting.
Granted, I like sports more than even the average girl who likes sports. However I have a lot of other girl friends who are like minded, so I sort of feel like the way I am is normal thing. I mean, 'normal' is just whatever you're used to anyway, right? Add to that, I have all brothers and am the oldest. I also had practice of some sort every day from the age of 2 to 33. Then I broke my foot and a whole other mess of things happened, but that's not the point. The point is, none of these things make me any less feminine and I don't feel the need to defend my femininity by pointing out all the girly shit I do. Wearing make up is not me compensating for playing sports.
I have to wonder, though, what is so off-putting? Is that another word for intimidating? I'm not for everybody and I'm perfectly okay with that, but I do like to understand why a man who presents as relatively sporty himself, would be put off by his sporty, double-x chromosomed counterpart. It's a mystery. I suppose I should go take off these 4" heels and go for a run, now. Later.
06 May, 2014
falsehoods
I don't lie. I don't, and here's why.
Lying takes effort in perpetuity - effort that is simply not worth the energy. First, you are willingly deceiving someone when you lie, which is wrong. Second, and possibly more importantly, when you lie, you then have to remember shit.
You have to remember the lie itself, who you told the lie to, why you are lying and then you have to consistently back up that lie in perpetuity, which often requires more lies and thus more remembering of shit. It's a ball o wax that adds up to not worth it, to me. I mean, if I'm going to be bothered to remember stuff, I'd rather it were factual or happy information; not all of the details that lead to why I can't be trusted. Apparently, this is a rare attitude to have, but I can't quite figure out why.
People can get over things when you give them the truth. They may be mad and if you've done something wrong that they ought to be mad about, well that's your own damn fault and you probably should stop doing shit that makes people mad. Pretty simple. The point is though, that once the truth is processed, there is still at least the respect that you have told the truth and taken your lumps, which sort of plays to our basic humanity and desire for integrity-filled relationships.
By contrast however, people don't get over lies. They can say they do, to get out of a situation in the moment, but really they don't. They don't get over lies because a lie is a betrayal. When you take away someone's right to their feelings about something, it's not only wrong, it's arrogant and unfair.
Tonight, I had my mind blown. Not just blown, but exploded. Fortunately, I have had quite a bit of time and distance from the situation that was detailed for me, but nonetheless, the amount, intensity, time-duration and senselessness of it all allowed me to laugh, rather than be hurt. But the sheer enormity of it all was easily the last thing I ever thought I'd hear in my lifetime.
There will be more - waaaayyyy more - on this for sure in the coming posts, but for now, don't lie, people. Just don't. It's a waste of time where you could be doing a helluva lot more with the truth.
Lying takes effort in perpetuity - effort that is simply not worth the energy. First, you are willingly deceiving someone when you lie, which is wrong. Second, and possibly more importantly, when you lie, you then have to remember shit.
You have to remember the lie itself, who you told the lie to, why you are lying and then you have to consistently back up that lie in perpetuity, which often requires more lies and thus more remembering of shit. It's a ball o wax that adds up to not worth it, to me. I mean, if I'm going to be bothered to remember stuff, I'd rather it were factual or happy information; not all of the details that lead to why I can't be trusted. Apparently, this is a rare attitude to have, but I can't quite figure out why.
People can get over things when you give them the truth. They may be mad and if you've done something wrong that they ought to be mad about, well that's your own damn fault and you probably should stop doing shit that makes people mad. Pretty simple. The point is though, that once the truth is processed, there is still at least the respect that you have told the truth and taken your lumps, which sort of plays to our basic humanity and desire for integrity-filled relationships.
By contrast however, people don't get over lies. They can say they do, to get out of a situation in the moment, but really they don't. They don't get over lies because a lie is a betrayal. When you take away someone's right to their feelings about something, it's not only wrong, it's arrogant and unfair.
Tonight, I had my mind blown. Not just blown, but exploded. Fortunately, I have had quite a bit of time and distance from the situation that was detailed for me, but nonetheless, the amount, intensity, time-duration and senselessness of it all allowed me to laugh, rather than be hurt. But the sheer enormity of it all was easily the last thing I ever thought I'd hear in my lifetime.
There will be more - waaaayyyy more - on this for sure in the coming posts, but for now, don't lie, people. Just don't. It's a waste of time where you could be doing a helluva lot more with the truth.
01 April, 2014
obtuseness
"You WILL do what I say."
This was said in response to me not wanting to be late somewhere and was followed up by a tirade in which I was described as hated and not knowing my 'place'.
In defense of this, I was actually told today, "sometimes you have to let a man speak to you that way."
Er?? What the fuck????? I mean, really...what. the. fuck. Did someone not only say that, but believe it?
Are we in the 1950's, when no one had any rights but rich, white dudes? Who talks to anyone that way, let alone a person they are supposed to love and cherish? Had my dad ever spoken to my mother that way, he would be missing some teeth; not because my mother was so tough or had a violent streak, but because it is just fundamentally wrong. If my mother or father had ever heard me or one of my brothers speak to another human being that way, they would have laughed at us, and then made us eat a bar of soap. You think I exaggerate here...I assure you, I do not.
When did it become even remotely acceptable to try and put people in their place in an effort to control them - at all, let alone like that? What that says to me is that the speaker in that scenario is so weak and so wildly insecure that he or she must resort to overt demands and the yelling and stomping of feet, to try and gain control of a situation.
People of these modern times, heed my words....the time for speaking to someone that way is never. Never is the time for that. The time to try and force someone to submit to your demands, ridiculous or otherwise, is never. The time to speak to any other human being as if he or she is beneath you, is never. If you can't stand to be called out on your bullshit; if you can't stand to adhere to a two way street in terms of communication and decency, you ought to seek counsel and stop existing. Because the time for me to be shoved into a box and put in my 'woman's place' is so far from over it's not even funny. In fact, it never began, in large part because my father coached it out of me at a very early age. He wouldn't even let me walk out the door if a dude honked, or didn't come to the door. Speaking in that manner to me or anyone else who qualifies as a human being never was and never will be right.
This, incidentally, is not because I'm so mighty. It's not because I'm all miss independent and have so much 'sass' and a 'smart mouth' (other phrases thrown out which say this person would rather have me behind him than next to him). It's because I am a person and a fucking smart, articulate, well-thought, well-spoken, well-educated and very decent one, at that. Not to harp on my father, but the older I get, the more I realize what an excellent example of a man he is and let me tell you that dude would cut your lights out for speaking to me that way. He took great care to raise me never to accept less than total decency and equality from the world.
So when you tell me - or anyone - to get in my place and "listen", when you rant and rave and flip out and create a double standard, all you do is expose your weakness and insecurity and make me feel sorry for you. I am not afraid of you now, never will be, and am more inclined to shake my head at your obtuse outlook, feeble sense of self and overtly insecure need to try and keep up some sort of appearances with the assholes of the world, before I adhere to such obnoxious demands.
We are not meant to put each other down. We are meant to raise each other up and that does not mean by steamrolling one another, trying to break each other down so we can build someone back the way we want them to be, or subjecting each other to an outdated and arcane set of standards. Grow the fuck up, people. If you want me to listen to what you have to say, approach me as your equal, with open communication and a rational sensibility and I'm all ears. Should you choose not to, don't be surprised with what you get back. What's good for the goose is good for the fucking gander.
Good night.
This was said in response to me not wanting to be late somewhere and was followed up by a tirade in which I was described as hated and not knowing my 'place'.
In defense of this, I was actually told today, "sometimes you have to let a man speak to you that way."
Er?? What the fuck????? I mean, really...what. the. fuck. Did someone not only say that, but believe it?
Are we in the 1950's, when no one had any rights but rich, white dudes? Who talks to anyone that way, let alone a person they are supposed to love and cherish? Had my dad ever spoken to my mother that way, he would be missing some teeth; not because my mother was so tough or had a violent streak, but because it is just fundamentally wrong. If my mother or father had ever heard me or one of my brothers speak to another human being that way, they would have laughed at us, and then made us eat a bar of soap. You think I exaggerate here...I assure you, I do not.
When did it become even remotely acceptable to try and put people in their place in an effort to control them - at all, let alone like that? What that says to me is that the speaker in that scenario is so weak and so wildly insecure that he or she must resort to overt demands and the yelling and stomping of feet, to try and gain control of a situation.
People of these modern times, heed my words....the time for speaking to someone that way is never. Never is the time for that. The time to try and force someone to submit to your demands, ridiculous or otherwise, is never. The time to speak to any other human being as if he or she is beneath you, is never. If you can't stand to be called out on your bullshit; if you can't stand to adhere to a two way street in terms of communication and decency, you ought to seek counsel and stop existing. Because the time for me to be shoved into a box and put in my 'woman's place' is so far from over it's not even funny. In fact, it never began, in large part because my father coached it out of me at a very early age. He wouldn't even let me walk out the door if a dude honked, or didn't come to the door. Speaking in that manner to me or anyone else who qualifies as a human being never was and never will be right.
This, incidentally, is not because I'm so mighty. It's not because I'm all miss independent and have so much 'sass' and a 'smart mouth' (other phrases thrown out which say this person would rather have me behind him than next to him). It's because I am a person and a fucking smart, articulate, well-thought, well-spoken, well-educated and very decent one, at that. Not to harp on my father, but the older I get, the more I realize what an excellent example of a man he is and let me tell you that dude would cut your lights out for speaking to me that way. He took great care to raise me never to accept less than total decency and equality from the world.
So when you tell me - or anyone - to get in my place and "listen", when you rant and rave and flip out and create a double standard, all you do is expose your weakness and insecurity and make me feel sorry for you. I am not afraid of you now, never will be, and am more inclined to shake my head at your obtuse outlook, feeble sense of self and overtly insecure need to try and keep up some sort of appearances with the assholes of the world, before I adhere to such obnoxious demands.
We are not meant to put each other down. We are meant to raise each other up and that does not mean by steamrolling one another, trying to break each other down so we can build someone back the way we want them to be, or subjecting each other to an outdated and arcane set of standards. Grow the fuck up, people. If you want me to listen to what you have to say, approach me as your equal, with open communication and a rational sensibility and I'm all ears. Should you choose not to, don't be surprised with what you get back. What's good for the goose is good for the fucking gander.
Good night.
29 March, 2014
breaky break
So I uh..had kind of a lot going on there for a while - which is ironic since technically nothing was happening - but I had to take a little break from writing.
I'm down to my last dollar and the next couple of months are going to be REALLY rough, but hey...at least I have my health, a new job (finally) and a haircut. The rest...well it is what it is. Sometimes you get the rug pulled from underneath you, because of any of a million things and it's time to take a break, re-evaluate what is in your life, and reset. This, apparently, is one of those times for me and I'm going to deal with it the best way I know how; by working harder.
I am SO sore, but at least I got the run completed. Time to literally run things out of my system. See, what I have learned in life is that trying to control things leads primarily to your own unhappiness. You can work as hard as you want, be as competent, professional, talented, loving, whatever the situation - you can be as amazing as possible and you still have little to no control over how other people choose to see you or deal with you, because they are operating from within the scope of their limitations.
So then, the only thing to do is just relax and run it out of your system. Hurt, disappointment and anger are toxic. It's not that it isn't okay to feel those things, it's just not okay to let them dictate who you are. The right people will see what you have to offer, so you just have to learn to choose better. The right employer will see your talent and want you to be a part of their team as badly as you want to be on it. The right love will see you with honest, open eyes and love you as you are, if you are always trying to move in a positive direction. The right friends will accept you, support you and encourage you to be the best version of yourself. And if it's not right - if one half of the equation can't get out of their own way - well then you have to just keep moving forward. It's not the end, just the end of that.
I've had an incredibly conflicting week, but the bottom line of it is that I created an opportunity and then took advantage and these struggles will soon be over. I will feel better soon, because the knowledge that one cannot change another's eyes, mind, or heart is liberating. We do the best we can with what we've got. Get away from what hurts you, because what hurts you will always blame you for it. What is good for you will always encourage and stand beside you, because what is good for half, is good for the whole. And that's the truth.
I'm down to my last dollar and the next couple of months are going to be REALLY rough, but hey...at least I have my health, a new job (finally) and a haircut. The rest...well it is what it is. Sometimes you get the rug pulled from underneath you, because of any of a million things and it's time to take a break, re-evaluate what is in your life, and reset. This, apparently, is one of those times for me and I'm going to deal with it the best way I know how; by working harder.
I am SO sore, but at least I got the run completed. Time to literally run things out of my system. See, what I have learned in life is that trying to control things leads primarily to your own unhappiness. You can work as hard as you want, be as competent, professional, talented, loving, whatever the situation - you can be as amazing as possible and you still have little to no control over how other people choose to see you or deal with you, because they are operating from within the scope of their limitations.
So then, the only thing to do is just relax and run it out of your system. Hurt, disappointment and anger are toxic. It's not that it isn't okay to feel those things, it's just not okay to let them dictate who you are. The right people will see what you have to offer, so you just have to learn to choose better. The right employer will see your talent and want you to be a part of their team as badly as you want to be on it. The right love will see you with honest, open eyes and love you as you are, if you are always trying to move in a positive direction. The right friends will accept you, support you and encourage you to be the best version of yourself. And if it's not right - if one half of the equation can't get out of their own way - well then you have to just keep moving forward. It's not the end, just the end of that.
I've had an incredibly conflicting week, but the bottom line of it is that I created an opportunity and then took advantage and these struggles will soon be over. I will feel better soon, because the knowledge that one cannot change another's eyes, mind, or heart is liberating. We do the best we can with what we've got. Get away from what hurts you, because what hurts you will always blame you for it. What is good for you will always encourage and stand beside you, because what is good for half, is good for the whole. And that's the truth.
10 February, 2014
real quick-like
I don't really have time to write anything at the moment, but I came across this gif and just HAD to share. It's pretty much the best thing I've seen in a long time.
Feel free to use as you see fit. It just makes me laugh every time I look at it.
Feel free to use as you see fit. It just makes me laugh every time I look at it.
04 February, 2014
unsuper
Man, that super bowl hurt my eyes. I mean, it hurt them and I had to just get up and go make a carrot cake. Even if I don't like the team that is winning, or even the teams that are playing, I can still get down for a good game.
I feel so bad for Payton Manning, though. I really wanted him to go down as having won titles with two different franchises, because I think he is that good of a player. Plus, he should always be one-up on his sub-par brother and the damn Gigantes. Come on.
Lessons from this year's super bowl experience:
1. I am capable of checking out and taking off when a sporting competition is being contested. I was previously unaware of this ability.
2. My cupcake tins are too shallow for the goodness that is my carrot cake.
3. Peach "punch" is definitely not juice and will indeed lead to a sugar-induced hangover.
4. I am still capable of throwing together some intensely good Mexican food.
5. I prefer the super bowl to begin at an hour similar to this year's, because it means I can get to bed at a decent hour, drunk or not.
Other than that...it was a low way to tie up the football season and now I must wait until August for a good reason to sit on my ass all day on Sunday. At least it is an indicator that warmer weather is on the way, so I can run outside. And there you have it. Good night.
I feel so bad for Payton Manning, though. I really wanted him to go down as having won titles with two different franchises, because I think he is that good of a player. Plus, he should always be one-up on his sub-par brother and the damn Gigantes. Come on.
Lessons from this year's super bowl experience:
1. I am capable of checking out and taking off when a sporting competition is being contested. I was previously unaware of this ability.
2. My cupcake tins are too shallow for the goodness that is my carrot cake.
3. Peach "punch" is definitely not juice and will indeed lead to a sugar-induced hangover.
4. I am still capable of throwing together some intensely good Mexican food.
5. I prefer the super bowl to begin at an hour similar to this year's, because it means I can get to bed at a decent hour, drunk or not.
Other than that...it was a low way to tie up the football season and now I must wait until August for a good reason to sit on my ass all day on Sunday. At least it is an indicator that warmer weather is on the way, so I can run outside. And there you have it. Good night.
17 January, 2014
a plea
Dear Geico:
Please, I beg you, just stop. Stop, stop, stop. I can't take the onslaught of insanely annoying material cropping up virtually everywhere. Surely those ad dollars could have been better spent. Surely. Definitely.
For the love of all things not incredibly annoying....this new commercial campaign with the paintings makes me want to deafen myself and gouge out my eyes. Whoever decided that this whole thing was a go, has lost their mind and should be fired immediately. These ads decidedly do NOT make me want to purchase auto insurance from your company, but rather they make me want to drive a car over your ad agency.
Please, I beg you, just stop. Stop, stop, stop. I can't take the onslaught of insanely annoying material cropping up virtually everywhere. Surely those ad dollars could have been better spent. Surely. Definitely.
Sincerely,
Someone who will most likely never patronize your services.
16 January, 2014
sieve
Well sitting around crying doesn't do any good, I suppose, but then again, sometimes it's best to just get it all out when there is so much on the line, you're exhausted and everything is completely out of your hands. Why is it that fatigue makes people cry? I've never understood it, but it is the primary circumstance for when my face starts to leak.
I suppose the next handful of days will tell me a lot about how circumstances will play out for both my immediate and long-term future, but I could really, really do without all the stress. It would be so nice to have a feeling of security again. To be able to finish what I have started, to have things fall into place, as they seemed to have been just a short year ago. Why, universe, why do you fuck with me so?
Kind of reminds me of this:
I suppose the next handful of days will tell me a lot about how circumstances will play out for both my immediate and long-term future, but I could really, really do without all the stress. It would be so nice to have a feeling of security again. To be able to finish what I have started, to have things fall into place, as they seemed to have been just a short year ago. Why, universe, why do you fuck with me so?
Kind of reminds me of this:
At least I've still got my sense of humor.
14 January, 2014
cards comma house of
Why do people fart in libraries? I will never understand this, because it is the least forgiving location I can think of, for such a thing. There is no opportunity to overwhelm the other senses, no draft to carry it away, nothing. Just the lingering stench for all of us to deal with. I mean, at least have the decency to go between the books or get to the bathroom. But I digress.
I've been watching House of Cards, lately. Actually I binge-watched the entire season in a few days and I have to say, I love it. Living in DC for a couple of years now and having met so very many people involved in the government from the military to hill staffers, the ever elusively defined "consultants", lobbyists and non-profit workers from multiple sectors, pretty much nothing contained in that show surprises me. What the general public does not know about so very many things that are almost common knowledge to people in DC is staggering. Almost as staggering as how much people don't know about finance, outside of New York. The masses love to pop off about this and that and act like they have any idea about anything, when in fact, what our government and financial systems have become is not even a reasonable facsimile of what people think they are.
I think it's a well-established fact that now that everyone has a mic, it is blatantly obvious that the state of our nation is in the bin. People can't be bothered to educate themselves on anything they can't get in soundbytes or snippets and can't be bothered to express themselves at above a 4th grade level. But really people, if you think all of these manipulative, conspiracy-esque, back room deal type things are far-fetched....well you're even dumber than is already obvious.
I am becoming ever more convinced that a country of 300 million people cannot possibly be run efficiently.
06 January, 2014
lil guys
First things first..... It's a family feud today with the 9ers playing the Packers and I must be victorious. My 9ers must prevail in this crazy sub-zero, tundra-esque weather.
So then.
I have been cat-sitting for the last 10 days, in a luxury apartment building with a pretty nice gym. We have had quite a few really good workouts in this gym, while doing our best to assimilate with the locals. It's really hard not to correct form or wince when watching some people try to lift, but we managed to stay centered on our own training, which, by the way, has resulted in me having substantial difficulty standing and sitting for the last several days.
One day, we were doing upper body stuff mixed in with some pretty aggressive treadmill work. This upper body work involved running the rack of dumbells on various exercises. Running the rack (or the ladder, as the bookie calls it), means you do an exercise for a set number of reps with one set of dumbells and then move up in weight until you either run out of weight to do, or cannot do the next weight up. Then you go back down the rack to where you started. This is exhausting and effective.
I am pretty strong. Even in the out of shape iteration of myself, I am still stronger than most women and a lot of men. I'd rather my midsection looked a little more bikini-ready than be super strong right now, but whatever. Now that my right side is starting to fire again, it's all good. Anyway. At the same time we were running the rack, there came in a pair of small, concave-chested gents, bent on pumping some iron and getting their fit on.
They hopped on the treadmills and began their chatty warm up and then came over to the dumbell section. In between sets of those really wide-armed pushups and some crunches, the lads muscled up 20lb dumbells for sets of overhead presses and curls. And o how they strained and winced as they plodded through their workout. I felt really bad when I skipped over that section, as one of them was standing about 3 feet away from me, and did double reps on the 25's and then continued my ascent. He stared at me with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. Sorry 'lil fella.
It's is kind of assholey for me to make fun of them, because in truth, it makes me happy to see anyone of any body type or fitness level working out. We don't all have to be giants and titans of fitness. But still. I know pecking at a keyboard takes more dexterity than strength, but maybe consider taking the stairs now and then and just go to Costco and carry around heavy shit once in a while....put them guns to use, son.
And with that, I will resume my regularly scheduled PT routine of endless one-leg focused exercises, in the hope that I will be able to outrun these munchkins if they ever read this.
So then.
I have been cat-sitting for the last 10 days, in a luxury apartment building with a pretty nice gym. We have had quite a few really good workouts in this gym, while doing our best to assimilate with the locals. It's really hard not to correct form or wince when watching some people try to lift, but we managed to stay centered on our own training, which, by the way, has resulted in me having substantial difficulty standing and sitting for the last several days.
One day, we were doing upper body stuff mixed in with some pretty aggressive treadmill work. This upper body work involved running the rack of dumbells on various exercises. Running the rack (or the ladder, as the bookie calls it), means you do an exercise for a set number of reps with one set of dumbells and then move up in weight until you either run out of weight to do, or cannot do the next weight up. Then you go back down the rack to where you started. This is exhausting and effective.
I am pretty strong. Even in the out of shape iteration of myself, I am still stronger than most women and a lot of men. I'd rather my midsection looked a little more bikini-ready than be super strong right now, but whatever. Now that my right side is starting to fire again, it's all good. Anyway. At the same time we were running the rack, there came in a pair of small, concave-chested gents, bent on pumping some iron and getting their fit on.
They hopped on the treadmills and began their chatty warm up and then came over to the dumbell section. In between sets of those really wide-armed pushups and some crunches, the lads muscled up 20lb dumbells for sets of overhead presses and curls. And o how they strained and winced as they plodded through their workout. I felt really bad when I skipped over that section, as one of them was standing about 3 feet away from me, and did double reps on the 25's and then continued my ascent. He stared at me with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. Sorry 'lil fella.
It's is kind of assholey for me to make fun of them, because in truth, it makes me happy to see anyone of any body type or fitness level working out. We don't all have to be giants and titans of fitness. But still. I know pecking at a keyboard takes more dexterity than strength, but maybe consider taking the stairs now and then and just go to Costco and carry around heavy shit once in a while....put them guns to use, son.
And with that, I will resume my regularly scheduled PT routine of endless one-leg focused exercises, in the hope that I will be able to outrun these munchkins if they ever read this.
02 January, 2014
clean
Ah the obligatory end of the year / beginning of the year post. Later 2013.
I feel the last year, when I look back at it all, is about perspective and effort. Every year holds challenges, some greater than others, but how you move through those and what you take from them is what matters and defines you.
The beauty of a new year is the metaphor of a new page. With this new page I can work toward all of the continuing goals I have set for myself and hopefully contribute positively to the lives of others. So very much ahead of me....of us all.
And that's all I've got for today.
I feel the last year, when I look back at it all, is about perspective and effort. Every year holds challenges, some greater than others, but how you move through those and what you take from them is what matters and defines you.
The beauty of a new year is the metaphor of a new page. With this new page I can work toward all of the continuing goals I have set for myself and hopefully contribute positively to the lives of others. So very much ahead of me....of us all.
And that's all I've got for today.
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