Okay, sorry, I wanted to finish before but between being busy and various parties... oh well.
WEDNESDAY: The family Christmas party, with my grandfather, aunt, uncle, cousins, cousin's boyfriend and this year, my brother's girlfriend. It was good fun, as always; we had hot apple cider by the fire and we mingled for a while before opening presents and then playing a few games-- like "pass the package" where the person who answers a Christmas trivia question takes off one layer of wrapping paper from a gift, and the one that finds the final present gets to keep it (I lost).
Then there was the search for the pickle ornament, with a prize for the winner. My cousin won, after much frantic pawing through the tree.
And the Yankee Swap, where we passed around a box and each person took one wrapped gift, and either unwrapped it or exchanged it for an already unwrapped gift. The little bottles of alcohol were very popular, but alas, my mom's gotten increasingly bad at picking desirable non-alcoholic gifts as time goes on, and I wasn't allowed to trade for the alcohol, obviously. End result, I got tissues, which I afterwards gave to Shrewd, who had a cold. My older cousin got the risque tissues, which said "Jingle My Bells" with crotch shots of elves. My mom swears it was an accident...
Then we mostly sat around and talked again until they left and we started to clean up.
THURSDAY: I went to see Ryter, as I had promised to go down with him to help him unpack his mother's apartment (she apparently moved in three years ago and never unpacked). He's been avoiding seeing her one-on-one lately. So I drove all the way back to Durham, met up with Ryter, we got in the car and started to drive-- and got a phone call from her, saying she had forgotten she had an appointment that day and could we reschedule. Grrrr...
So we drove back, and before I could drive home or anything it started to snow. So I spent the night. Which was okay, but... bah. His mom can be vexing at times.
FRIDAY: I drove back early in the morning because my grandmother was coming up in the evening. My grandmother, while a very nice woman, has a tendency to pick fights without realizing she is doing so... especially with my sister. So I came home, slept on the couch for the weekend and tried not to get entangled in arguments. We also opened presents, and thus ended Christmas.
The weekend was mostly spent hiding in my room, but on Monday I drove to see Ryter for New Year's Eve. WE didn't do much on the Eve, just hung out and kept each other up until midnight, toasted, and went to bed. New Year's Day I was supposed to go down to Mass and see family for a big brunch, but the snow was too heavy, so instead we just got ready for his New Year's Party, which was tiki-themed and had a surprising number of the invites show up despite the weather. The only one who didn't was his former Japanese professor. That was fun.
I wound up spending the night again because it was so late when everyone left. Then today we cleaned up after the party before I headed back here.
On the plus side, I cleaned his shower during our preparations. I burned my lungs on the bleach, but the weird scunge is gone. That made me very happy.
Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Part 2, Christmas Week
The Christmas tale continues. Here's the first installment.
TUESDAY: Christmas, of course! We woke up at 9 and moseyed downstairs once my mom had passed us. We don't do Santa much anymore, as the Brother is going to be eighteen in a few weeks. My mom does fill the stockings with little gifts, though, like wind-up toys and Christmas candy (Daddy fills her stocking with Lindt chocolates and scented soaps). Inexpensive fun things. This year was kind of lame because Daddy was down watching TV when we woke up, and then we sat around waiting while my mom put breakfast in the oven and they watched MORE TV- and not even something Christmasy, they were watching a robot movie. Grr. But they stopped when Mummy and I finished making breakfast and we opened the stocking gifts, all wrapped in tissue paper. Then, as breakfast cooked, we started the other family presents-- I gave my sister a scarf, my brother a book about numbers, my dad a bottle of special olive oil and my mom a little cosmetic bag for her purse (she needed one, her old one broke) and an organic candy bar.
My parents gave me lots of stuff-- this is what they do instead of buying me stuff I need or want at other times. So I got a Leatherman tool, and plush microbes from ThinkGeek (syphilis, malaria and mono), and Age of Mythology for my computer because I am a myth geek and have wanted it for years but couldn't afford it. And I finally got a new hair dryer to replace the one that broke. Shrewd's making me a scarf but she's been sick and couldn't finish it in time. I don't mind, though. The Brother gave Daddy a collection of Agatha Christie movies, including The Man in the Brown Suit, which is a movie that Daddy taped off the TV years ago, but which was then accidentally taped over by Shrewd. Daddy loved it and was disappointed as hell. He was thrilled, as was Shrewd, who is FINALLY out of the doghouse.
Soon breakfast was done. Christmas breakfast for us is almost as big as dinner. The traditional family Christmas breakfast is an egg casserole (part veggie and sausage, part sausage only, part veggie only), cinnamon rolls hot from the oven, homemade tea breads and fresh-squeezed orange juice. We finished presents after breakfast, then cleaned up the wrapping paper so that the house would be ready when Ryter arrived.
Ryter came soon after, and we talked and helped with dinner until it was time to eat. Dinner was tenderloin with peppercorn sauce and stuffed scrod with Newburg sauce; sweet potatoes, my mother's famous cloverleaf rolls, peas, broccoli, shrimp cocktail, sweet baby carrots and probably something else I forgot. It was wonderful, as my mom's cooking always is, even without the traditional popovers Shrewd usually makes (she was too sick to handle food safely).
Ryter opened my gift and I opened his; I gave him a T-shirt of Emperor Constantine Paleologos and he gave me a collection of Phillip K. Dick novels. My parents also gave him some maps of the White Mountains for hiking in the spring, and he gave Daddy a bottle of rum, for general over-21 consumption. The Brother and Daddy played with their new mini RC helicopters.
After we cleaned up from dinner we played Trivial Pursuit (Daddy and Mummy against the Brother, myself, and Ryter) and my team lost miserably. They got lots of easy questions. We had pie and cheesecake for desert and split up, Shrewd playing with her brand new laptop (boy did she need it), the Brother and Daddy playing Scrabble and Mummy setting up her new vacuum cleaner from my grandmother, while Ryter and I hung out, watched some Bones, and then said our good nights.
It was a marvelous Christmas all around.
TUESDAY: Christmas, of course! We woke up at 9 and moseyed downstairs once my mom had passed us. We don't do Santa much anymore, as the Brother is going to be eighteen in a few weeks. My mom does fill the stockings with little gifts, though, like wind-up toys and Christmas candy (Daddy fills her stocking with Lindt chocolates and scented soaps). Inexpensive fun things. This year was kind of lame because Daddy was down watching TV when we woke up, and then we sat around waiting while my mom put breakfast in the oven and they watched MORE TV- and not even something Christmasy, they were watching a robot movie. Grr. But they stopped when Mummy and I finished making breakfast and we opened the stocking gifts, all wrapped in tissue paper. Then, as breakfast cooked, we started the other family presents-- I gave my sister a scarf, my brother a book about numbers, my dad a bottle of special olive oil and my mom a little cosmetic bag for her purse (she needed one, her old one broke) and an organic candy bar. 
My parents gave me lots of stuff-- this is what they do instead of buying me stuff I need or want at other times. So I got a Leatherman tool, and plush microbes from ThinkGeek (syphilis, malaria and mono), and Age of Mythology for my computer because I am a myth geek and have wanted it for years but couldn't afford it. And I finally got a new hair dryer to replace the one that broke. Shrewd's making me a scarf but she's been sick and couldn't finish it in time. I don't mind, though. The Brother gave Daddy a collection of Agatha Christie movies, including The Man in the Brown Suit, which is a movie that Daddy taped off the TV years ago, but which was then accidentally taped over by Shrewd. Daddy loved it and was disappointed as hell. He was thrilled, as was Shrewd, who is FINALLY out of the doghouse.Soon breakfast was done. Christmas breakfast for us is almost as big as dinner. The traditional family Christmas breakfast is an egg casserole (part veggie and sausage, part sausage only, part veggie only), cinnamon rolls hot from the oven, homemade tea breads and fresh-squeezed orange juice. We finished presents after breakfast, then cleaned up the wrapping paper so that the house would be ready when Ryter arrived.
Ryter came soon after, and we talked and helped with dinner until it was time to eat. Dinner was tenderloin with peppercorn sauce and stuffed scrod with Newburg sauce; sweet potatoes, my mother's famous cloverleaf rolls, peas, broccoli, shrimp cocktail, sweet baby carrots and probably something else I forgot. It was wonderful, as my mom's cooking always is, even without the traditional popovers Shrewd usually makes (she was too sick to handle food safely). Ryter opened my gift and I opened his; I gave him a T-shirt of Emperor Constantine Paleologos and he gave me a collection of Phillip K. Dick novels. My parents also gave him some maps of the White Mountains for hiking in the spring, and he gave Daddy a bottle of rum, for general over-21 consumption. The Brother and Daddy played with their new mini RC helicopters.
After we cleaned up from dinner we played Trivial Pursuit (Daddy and Mummy against the Brother, myself, and Ryter) and my team lost miserably. They got lots of easy questions. We had pie and cheesecake for desert and split up, Shrewd playing with her brand new laptop (boy did she need it), the Brother and Daddy playing Scrabble and Mummy setting up her new vacuum cleaner from my grandmother, while Ryter and I hung out, watched some Bones, and then said our good nights.
It was a marvelous Christmas all around.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Cultural Survival
Today is the feast of Bona Dea, the goddess of fertility, healing, virginity, and women. She's also known as Fauna, for her father, the goat-legged Faunus (Greek name Pan). She was especially popular with lower-class citizens, slaves, and women, who would pray to her for healing or fertility. She was also the patron of freedom from slavery, hence the popularity with slaves.
Her festival was celebrated with secret rites held in the home of a prominent Roman magistrate. Only women were allowed, so I guess the magistrate himself was kicked out, and his wife ran the show (with the Vestal Virgins' assistance). You couldn't even have a male animal or a picture of a man with you. The words "wine" and "myrtle were forbidden, as there was a myth of Faunus beating Bona Dea with a myrtle stick when she got drunk, and it seems she didn't want to be reminded (this may be one of the few Roman festivals and/or ceremonies with no use of alcohol in copious amounts).
She was frequently depicted on Roman coins, often with her symbols, the cornucopia and the snake (a symbol of healing). Snakes were also kept in her temple in Rome.
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Last night my dad picked me up late and took me back home for the night; we ate Chinese food, watched a Christmas movie and had a nice fire, and I got to bed waaaaaay late, which is a bad habit I need to break...
The reason for this was this morning, when we drove down to Boston for the Cultural Survival Bazaar (after a stopover in. If you live in the Boston area, you should check this out; it's very cool. Merchants who do fair trade practices with indigenous/impoverished peoples will come to sell the crafts and foods (coffee, chocolate, and olive oil mostly) at the bazaar, and 40% of the profits go to help preserve indigenous culture. Whatever you think of the politics/idea, though, it's a great place to poke around, and the timing (first three weekends in December) make it good for Christmas shopping for the people who don't actually need anything, or who might find it interesting.
There's a lot of sub-Saharan African stuff, especially wooden decorated bowls and utensils; toys; and instruments. There are woven rugs from Peru and woolen hats from Nepal; Ojibwa dreamcatchers and singing bowls from Tibet. And lots and lots of jewelry, from pretty much everywhere. I actually got almost all my shopping done there; I had only three presents left (for my mom, my brother, and a little gift to give Ryter on Christmas Eve). We also ate lunch from the Indian food stand that was there; it was really good (mmm, chicken masala).
Then we went to the BU bookstore, because Shrewd has an employee discount (she works for BU Hillel) and we wanted to kill time before we checked out her place of employment (which wasn't open yet). There, I got my present for my brother, who asked for math books for Christmas (weirdo).
We then went to Hillel, where Shrewd works. She serves kosher food in a little cafe overlooking the Charles River. It's a very pretty place. We got the 20-second tour and ran into my cousin's boyfriend, who helped Shrewd get the job there (yay nepotism).
Then they took me back to campus, as there's supposed to be a blizzard tonight and none of us wanted to be caught in that...
Her festival was celebrated with secret rites held in the home of a prominent Roman magistrate. Only women were allowed, so I guess the magistrate himself was kicked out, and his wife ran the show (with the Vestal Virgins' assistance). You couldn't even have a male animal or a picture of a man with you. The words "wine" and "myrtle were forbidden, as there was a myth of Faunus beating Bona Dea with a myrtle stick when she got drunk, and it seems she didn't want to be reminded (this may be one of the few Roman festivals and/or ceremonies with no use of alcohol in copious amounts).
She was frequently depicted on Roman coins, often with her symbols, the cornucopia and the snake (a symbol of healing). Snakes were also kept in her temple in Rome.
Last night my dad picked me up late and took me back home for the night; we ate Chinese food, watched a Christmas movie and had a nice fire, and I got to bed waaaaaay late, which is a bad habit I need to break...
The reason for this was this morning, when we drove down to Boston for the Cultural Survival Bazaar (after a stopover in. If you live in the Boston area, you should check this out; it's very cool. Merchants who do fair trade practices with indigenous/impoverished peoples will come to sell the crafts and foods (coffee, chocolate, and olive oil mostly) at the bazaar, and 40% of the profits go to help preserve indigenous culture. Whatever you think of the politics/idea, though, it's a great place to poke around, and the timing (first three weekends in December) make it good for Christmas shopping for the people who don't actually need anything, or who might find it interesting.
There's a lot of sub-Saharan African stuff, especially wooden decorated bowls and utensils; toys; and instruments. There are woven rugs from Peru and woolen hats from Nepal; Ojibwa dreamcatchers and singing bowls from Tibet. And lots and lots of jewelry, from pretty much everywhere. I actually got almost all my shopping done there; I had only three presents left (for my mom, my brother, and a little gift to give Ryter on Christmas Eve). We also ate lunch from the Indian food stand that was there; it was really good (mmm, chicken masala).
Then we went to the BU bookstore, because Shrewd has an employee discount (she works for BU Hillel) and we wanted to kill time before we checked out her place of employment (which wasn't open yet). There, I got my present for my brother, who asked for math books for Christmas (weirdo).
We then went to Hillel, where Shrewd works. She serves kosher food in a little cafe overlooking the Charles River. It's a very pretty place. We got the 20-second tour and ran into my cousin's boyfriend, who helped Shrewd get the job there (yay nepotism).
Then they took me back to campus, as there's supposed to be a blizzard tonight and none of us wanted to be caught in that...
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Highland Games: 70% diehard Scots, 29% diehard Metal fans.* Go figure.
Last day of the Mercatus.
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Friday night after sunset was Yom Kippur, and since Ryter has a level of anti-religion backlash similar to that of former Christians thanks to a few years in Hebrew school he had mentioned he wanted to eat ham on the holy days. I complied, coming up with what I thought was the least kosher thing we could have prepared-- cheese dreams.
A cheese dream is usually bacon, tomato and cheese, melted over a piece of bread into ooey cholesterol goodness (I omit the bacon). Ryter doesn't like tomatoes, so I replaced them with a piece of ham. They were quite good, even if I do think that making them again before the next Yom Kippur may send him into cardiac arrest. Apparently Yom Kippur is also about fasting, which meant that the whole thing was even more sacrilegious.
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Saturday was the Highland Games up at Loon Mountain, and I had decided to take Ryter this year. I love the Games, I go every year I can, and I was hoping he'd like it too but honestly I was kind of expecting he would think it was boring or cheesy.
We got there a little before my family did and took the shuttle from the parking lot to Loon. As we had not eaten breakfast, food was the first priority-- specifically fish and chips for me (mmm, greasy fried fish from a fair stand first thing in the morning) and haggis and thumps for Ryter. Haggis is of course sheep's blood pudding and thumps is mashed potatoes mixed with cabbage. Keep in mind that Jewish law expressly forbids the consumption of animal blood and it was Yom Kippur.
He ate the whole thing and liked it (he wanted more, or to figure out how to get it at home) so he has become an honorary Scotsman and was christened Angus MacJewberg.
Anyway...
We met up with my parents, my grandmother, and my brother shortly after that and then looked around, checking out the Utilikilts and Threads of Time. Then we decided to go up the gondola to the top of the mountain and checked out the view. That was a lot of fun-- very pretty, less of a crowd and more of a breeze (or "stiff wind that nearly blew my skirts up," rather) so it wasn't as hot as at the Games themselves.
And once we went down again Ryter got to see the tail end of the caber toss and the Historic Highlanders, who were sword fighting at the time. We finally reconnected with my family later on for the sheaf toss (stick a pitchfork into a bag of oats and throw it over a 28-ft bar), which Ryter was very enthusiastic about and he cheered quite loudly for his favorites.
It was a lot of fun, and Ryter loved it. We had a little trouble finding our
parking lot again, thanks to some bad info from the bus driver who brought us there, and then we wound up getting home later than hoped because we went out to eat with my family at Hart's Turkey Farm, but it was a great day and definitely what Ryter needed. It got him out of his apartment and doing something fun. He's also asking for a Utilikilt for Chrismukkah or Chrismahanakwanza, or whatever it is, which makes me happy because kilts are always sexy.
*Other 1%? Asian tourists, of course.
Friday night after sunset was Yom Kippur, and since Ryter has a level of anti-religion backlash similar to that of former Christians thanks to a few years in Hebrew school he had mentioned he wanted to eat ham on the holy days. I complied, coming up with what I thought was the least kosher thing we could have prepared-- cheese dreams.
A cheese dream is usually bacon, tomato and cheese, melted over a piece of bread into ooey cholesterol goodness (I omit the bacon). Ryter doesn't like tomatoes, so I replaced them with a piece of ham. They were quite good, even if I do think that making them again before the next Yom Kippur may send him into cardiac arrest. Apparently Yom Kippur is also about fasting, which meant that the whole thing was even more sacrilegious.Saturday was the Highland Games up at Loon Mountain, and I had decided to take Ryter this year. I love the Games, I go every year I can, and I was hoping he'd like it too but honestly I was kind of expecting he would think it was boring or cheesy.
We got there a little before my family did and took the shuttle from the parking lot to Loon. As we had not eaten breakfast, food was the first priority-- specifically fish and chips for me (mmm, greasy fried fish from a fair stand first thing in the morning) and haggis and thumps for Ryter. Haggis is of course sheep's blood pudding and thumps is mashed potatoes mixed with cabbage. Keep in mind that Jewish law expressly forbids the consumption of animal blood and it was Yom Kippur.He ate the whole thing and liked it (he wanted more, or to figure out how to get it at home) so he has become an honorary Scotsman and was christened Angus MacJewberg.
Anyway...
We met up with my parents, my grandmother, and my brother shortly after that and then looked around, checking out the Utilikilts and Threads of Time. Then we decided to go up the gondola to the top of the mountain and checked out the view. That was a lot of fun-- very pretty, less of a crowd and more of a breeze (or "stiff wind that nearly blew my skirts up," rather) so it wasn't as hot as at the Games themselves.
And once we went down again Ryter got to see the tail end of the caber toss and the Historic Highlanders, who were sword fighting at the time. We finally reconnected with my family later on for the sheaf toss (stick a pitchfork into a bag of oats and throw it over a 28-ft bar), which Ryter was very enthusiastic about and he cheered quite loudly for his favorites.It was a lot of fun, and Ryter loved it. We had a little trouble finding our
parking lot again, thanks to some bad info from the bus driver who brought us there, and then we wound up getting home later than hoped because we went out to eat with my family at Hart's Turkey Farm, but it was a great day and definitely what Ryter needed. It got him out of his apartment and doing something fun. He's also asking for a Utilikilt for Chrismukkah or Chrismahanakwanza, or whatever it is, which makes me happy because kilts are always sexy.*Other 1%? Asian tourists, of course.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
"The zombies! They changed the street names!"
Today is the Ludi Marti, a day of games to honor Mars/Ares, the god of war.
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Oh. My. Lord.
That was SO AWESOME!!!
So after Mummy and Daddy picked me up and I brought most of my stuff home, I headed down to Waltham (only got lost once! possibly twice!) to meet up with Shrewd. First I gave her her birthday gifts: a sterling silver spinning ring which may or may not fit her and a sign that says "Math Party Zone" that I made her and she loves. I had originally intended it to be a "You're going to be a MATH TEACHER, ya dolt!" kind of sign, to hang in her classrooms as a badge of geekiness, but then she changed from entering teaching to entering lower management in the college-food-service industry. But she swears it will stay over her dresser for all time anyway.
Then we went to protest ZOMBIES!!!
Okay, explanation. Every year for the past two years, three including this one, a bunch of college kids (and some parents with small children) get together, dress up as zombies, and march/shuffle/lurch/perambulate from Davis Square to Central Square, via Harvard Square so any non-Bostonians can get an idea of where we were-- near the Harvard area.
We were not going as zombies.
We were going as people protesting the zombies. Not the right of people to dress up as zombies and march around, more power to them; rather we were taking it one step further and protesting the right of zombies to march. Shrewd described it as like a "Yes, and..." comedy routine, where you take whatever the last guy said, assume it to be absolutely true, and then take it one step further.
So we made signs out of poster board and sharpies. They said:
"OUR BODIES, OUR RIGHTS, OUR BRAINS!"
"SIX FEET DOWN WITH ZOMBIES!" ~that was my idea.
"CRAWL BACK INTO THE HOLE YOU CAME FROM!" ~also me.
"GOD HATES ZOMBIES"
"WHAT WOULD ZOMBIE JESUS DO?" ~we weren't sure if this was for or against the zombies, but it was inspired by my suggesting "JESUS WAS A ZOMBIE," which we rejected as it might have been considered a bit offensive to Christians, and we hoped to focus our offensiveness towards the undead.
"[ZOMBIE SLUR]...[/ZOMBIE SLUR]" ~ This was voted "Geekiest Anti-Zombie Poster Ever"
"THEY TURNED ME INTO A ZOMBIE!!! ... (I got better)." ~This we didn't show too much because the "got better" part was too small to read, and it's really weird without it.
And the winner, which might actually wind up on the news tomorrow judging by the sheer number of pictures of it: "ZOMBIES ATE MY BABY!!!"
Meanwhile, we decided we also needed a pro-zombie counter-protest. So we designated Shrewd's diminutive friend to that role, and gave her a sign that said "DEAD RIGHTS! Equal opportunities for our non-breathing citizens, differently-living persons, and the vitally-challenged!"
So the four of us (me, Shrewd, her friend the counter-protester, and HER friend, the guy who told us about it in the first place) met up with one more protesting friend and walked to Davis Square (not from Waltham, we made the signs at the guy's house), where a large crowd was gathering, composed of probably at least five hundred people in zombie regalia.
And then we saw the other protesters. Apparently there were like three groups that came up with the same idea we did, and we quickly joined them to fight off the zombies, who were attacking us a little, and we exchanged chants of "Zombies go home!" with cries of "Braaaaaaains!" as our little counter-protester walked between us, totally in character, asking us to "Respect our undead brethren! Stop the hate!"
I was holding the "Crawl back into the hole you came from" sign, and I got interviewed by this guy doing some indie-art flick, but I couldn't stop smiling. Shrewd was interviewed next, holding the "They turned me into a zombie!" one, which he naturally asked a question about before she pointed to the little "I got better" at the bottom.
The march began, and we were off, running alongside the marchers with our signs, occasionally attempting and failing at chants like "Down with Zombies!" "No Pulse No Rights!" and "Kill the Zombies-- Again!" We were flanked by a young woman with very pink hair dressed up like a zombie slayer, who said "I'm just here to keep the peace, folks" and "People, if you provoke the zombies, I cannot be responsible for anything that may happen to you!" Meanwhile while some of the zombies were very good at their charade, others-- like this one woman in a fur coat with a "Billionaires for Bush" bag filled with fake money-- found our signs too funny to stay in character and wound up talking to us for a little while. I got smiles out of most people, especially after Shrewd ran off to play photographer and I wound up holding her "Zombies Ate My Baby!" sign. I also was informed by at least five people that they themselves had consumed the aforementioned infant. I assume I either had quintuplets or it was a very, very fat baby.
Of course, the enormous mass of marchers drove everyone not involved crazy. We were honked at a LOT. People who walked by either laughed at us, took pictures, or rolled their eyes and looked annoyed. The store owners were the most frustrated, as the zombies kept going up to their windows and mucking up the glass with their body paint. I kinda understood their annoyance. A couple of places put someone outside to say, over and over, "Please stay away from my windows. Please do not touch my windows." And when you saw the windows, you could totally see where they were coming from-- it was going to take a lot of cleaning to get off the grease.
Of course, there were plastered zombies who stumbled the whole way, and smoker-zombies who had to stop to smoke along the route or because they were out of breath, and one zombie who went up to claw at the door of a church (a bit rude, luckily no one was in there as far as I could tell and he stopped after a few seconds), and pretty much every variety of zombie imaginable-- newlyweds, nuns, priests, Waldo from "Where's Waldo," guys in drag, girls in evening gowns, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz (she ate Toto!), lots of punks (they are zombiefied at a greater rate apparently), a rapper, a geisha, some doctors, a patient, a guy in a French Maid costume (holding a "We're Here, We're Undead, Get Used To It" sign),several circus performers, and a high-powered executive who attempted to "buy" our brains. He was a very articulate zombie.
Though I had issues staying in character-- a costume might have helped me, something to make me look like a bereaved mother of a zombie-eaten baby-- and Shrewd was just a photographer most of the time, our counter-protester and her friend who originally suggested the idea almost never broke character, not even when we were done and the crowd had disbanded. That was kind of annoying, actually; I get the improv nature of the whole thing but after there weren't any zombies around to protest it got awkward. Some people drove by and when they asked what we were doing, the guy we were with replied in character, and the guy who asked got really pissed off.
After we finished and were taking some final pictures of ourselves, a drunk or, alternatively, crazy homeless man came up and started talking to us. He showed us a spot on his shoulder and said, "Zombies attacked me, you know. I almost died. Right here. But they brought me back just in time to see a cop guide a thousand zombies across the street."
Then we rode the subway back to Davis Square with a punk zombie, who was very nice, if looking a bit green. On the way out of the subway we ran into a drunk guy who thought we were supporting the Brandeis Equestrian Team, on account of the jacket I was wearing that I stole from my sister and the large posters, which we had rolled up by then. We tried to explain it, but clearly alcohol inhibits one's ability to comprehend crazy anti-zombie college kids.
Anyway, there were some great lines from the day, like, "Zombies are people too!" replied with, "NOT ANY MORE THEY AREN'T!"
And then, "How dare you make fun of what might be the most vital issue in our society today!" from the counter-protester, and "HOW DARE WE NOT MAKE FUN OF IT!" from Shrewd.
"Oh, man, my voice is dying." (This was after much shouting.) "Oh my god, they killed your voice???" "Ha ha, ZOMBIES ATE MY VOICE! ZOMBIES ATE MY VOICE" (This was rasped out.)
"We must stop the intolerance! Lifeism is HATE!" to which Shrewd replied, "They ATE my BABY!!!" (She was holding that sign then.)
While I was holding the "Zombies Ate My Baby!" sign, one guy called out, "I think dingos ate your baby, sweetheart." Ah, geeks.
Actually, speaking of geeks, there was an interesting line I noted between the zombies and the protesters. The zombies tended to be punks, goths, subculture types; either that or they were parents with kids. There were lots of those too. However, the protesters were all geeky types like myself. The freak/geek dichotomy was interesting.
But I'm all tuckered out from bein' an anti-zombie bigot. I will add some pictures of this day as soon as I get them off my camera. G'night!
Oh. My. Lord.
That was SO AWESOME!!!
So after Mummy and Daddy picked me up and I brought most of my stuff home, I headed down to Waltham (only got lost once! possibly twice!) to meet up with Shrewd. First I gave her her birthday gifts: a sterling silver spinning ring which may or may not fit her and a sign that says "Math Party Zone" that I made her and she loves. I had originally intended it to be a "You're going to be a MATH TEACHER, ya dolt!" kind of sign, to hang in her classrooms as a badge of geekiness, but then she changed from entering teaching to entering lower management in the college-food-service industry. But she swears it will stay over her dresser for all time anyway.Then we went to protest ZOMBIES!!!
Okay, explanation. Every year for the past two years, three including this one, a bunch of college kids (and some parents with small children) get together, dress up as zombies, and march/shuffle/lurch/perambulate from Davis Square to Central Square, via Harvard Square so any non-Bostonians can get an idea of where we were-- near the Harvard area.
We were not going as zombies.
We were going as people protesting the zombies. Not the right of people to dress up as zombies and march around, more power to them; rather we were taking it one step further and protesting the right of zombies to march. Shrewd described it as like a "Yes, and..." comedy routine, where you take whatever the last guy said, assume it to be absolutely true, and then take it one step further.
So we made signs out of poster board and sharpies. They said:
"OUR BODIES, OUR RIGHTS, OUR BRAINS!"
"SIX FEET DOWN WITH ZOMBIES!" ~that was my idea.
"CRAWL BACK INTO THE HOLE YOU CAME FROM!" ~also me.
"GOD HATES ZOMBIES"
"WHAT WOULD ZOMBIE JESUS DO?" ~we weren't sure if this was for or against the zombies, but it was inspired by my suggesting "JESUS WAS A ZOMBIE," which we rejected as it might have been considered a bit offensive to Christians, and we hoped to focus our offensiveness towards the undead.
"[ZOMBIE SLUR]...[/ZOMBIE SLUR]" ~ This was voted "Geekiest Anti-Zombie Poster Ever"
"THEY TURNED ME INTO A ZOMBIE!!! ... (I got better)." ~This we didn't show too much because the "got better" part was too small to read, and it's really weird without it.
And the winner, which might actually wind up on the news tomorrow judging by the sheer number of pictures of it: "ZOMBIES ATE MY BABY!!!"
Meanwhile, we decided we also needed a pro-zombie counter-protest. So we designated Shrewd's diminutive friend to that role, and gave her a sign that said "DEAD RIGHTS! Equal opportunities for our non-breathing citizens, differently-living persons, and the vitally-challenged!"
So the four of us (me, Shrewd, her friend the counter-protester, and HER friend, the guy who told us about it in the first place) met up with one more protesting friend and walked to Davis Square (not from Waltham, we made the signs at the guy's house), where a large crowd was gathering, composed of probably at least five hundred people in zombie regalia.
And then we saw the other protesters. Apparently there were like three groups that came up with the same idea we did, and we quickly joined them to fight off the zombies, who were attacking us a little, and we exchanged chants of "Zombies go home!" with cries of "Braaaaaaains!" as our little counter-protester walked between us, totally in character, asking us to "Respect our undead brethren! Stop the hate!"
I was holding the "Crawl back into the hole you came from" sign, and I got interviewed by this guy doing some indie-art flick, but I couldn't stop smiling. Shrewd was interviewed next, holding the "They turned me into a zombie!" one, which he naturally asked a question about before she pointed to the little "I got better" at the bottom.
The march began, and we were off, running alongside the marchers with our signs, occasionally attempting and failing at chants like "Down with Zombies!" "No Pulse No Rights!" and "Kill the Zombies-- Again!" We were flanked by a young woman with very pink hair dressed up like a zombie slayer, who said "I'm just here to keep the peace, folks" and "People, if you provoke the zombies, I cannot be responsible for anything that may happen to you!" Meanwhile while some of the zombies were very good at their charade, others-- like this one woman in a fur coat with a "Billionaires for Bush" bag filled with fake money-- found our signs too funny to stay in character and wound up talking to us for a little while. I got smiles out of most people, especially after Shrewd ran off to play photographer and I wound up holding her "Zombies Ate My Baby!" sign. I also was informed by at least five people that they themselves had consumed the aforementioned infant. I assume I either had quintuplets or it was a very, very fat baby.
Of course, the enormous mass of marchers drove everyone not involved crazy. We were honked at a LOT. People who walked by either laughed at us, took pictures, or rolled their eyes and looked annoyed. The store owners were the most frustrated, as the zombies kept going up to their windows and mucking up the glass with their body paint. I kinda understood their annoyance. A couple of places put someone outside to say, over and over, "Please stay away from my windows. Please do not touch my windows." And when you saw the windows, you could totally see where they were coming from-- it was going to take a lot of cleaning to get off the grease.
Of course, there were plastered zombies who stumbled the whole way, and smoker-zombies who had to stop to smoke along the route or because they were out of breath, and one zombie who went up to claw at the door of a church (a bit rude, luckily no one was in there as far as I could tell and he stopped after a few seconds), and pretty much every variety of zombie imaginable-- newlyweds, nuns, priests, Waldo from "Where's Waldo," guys in drag, girls in evening gowns, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz (she ate Toto!), lots of punks (they are zombiefied at a greater rate apparently), a rapper, a geisha, some doctors, a patient, a guy in a French Maid costume (holding a "We're Here, We're Undead, Get Used To It" sign),several circus performers, and a high-powered executive who attempted to "buy" our brains. He was a very articulate zombie.
Though I had issues staying in character-- a costume might have helped me, something to make me look like a bereaved mother of a zombie-eaten baby-- and Shrewd was just a photographer most of the time, our counter-protester and her friend who originally suggested the idea almost never broke character, not even when we were done and the crowd had disbanded. That was kind of annoying, actually; I get the improv nature of the whole thing but after there weren't any zombies around to protest it got awkward. Some people drove by and when they asked what we were doing, the guy we were with replied in character, and the guy who asked got really pissed off.
After we finished and were taking some final pictures of ourselves, a drunk or, alternatively, crazy homeless man came up and started talking to us. He showed us a spot on his shoulder and said, "Zombies attacked me, you know. I almost died. Right here. But they brought me back just in time to see a cop guide a thousand zombies across the street."
Then we rode the subway back to Davis Square with a punk zombie, who was very nice, if looking a bit green. On the way out of the subway we ran into a drunk guy who thought we were supporting the Brandeis Equestrian Team, on account of the jacket I was wearing that I stole from my sister and the large posters, which we had rolled up by then. We tried to explain it, but clearly alcohol inhibits one's ability to comprehend crazy anti-zombie college kids.
Anyway, there were some great lines from the day, like, "Zombies are people too!" replied with, "NOT ANY MORE THEY AREN'T!"
And then, "How dare you make fun of what might be the most vital issue in our society today!" from the counter-protester, and "HOW DARE WE NOT MAKE FUN OF IT!" from Shrewd.
"Oh, man, my voice is dying." (This was after much shouting.) "Oh my god, they killed your voice???" "Ha ha, ZOMBIES ATE MY VOICE! ZOMBIES ATE MY VOICE" (This was rasped out.)
"We must stop the intolerance! Lifeism is HATE!" to which Shrewd replied, "They ATE my BABY!!!" (She was holding that sign then.)
While I was holding the "Zombies Ate My Baby!" sign, one guy called out, "I think dingos ate your baby, sweetheart." Ah, geeks.
Actually, speaking of geeks, there was an interesting line I noted between the zombies and the protesters. The zombies tended to be punks, goths, subculture types; either that or they were parents with kids. There were lots of those too. However, the protesters were all geeky types like myself. The freak/geek dichotomy was interesting.
But I'm all tuckered out from bein' an anti-zombie bigot. I will add some pictures of this day as soon as I get them off my camera. G'night!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Spiderman is emo now, didya notice?
So... remember how that Chem exam was going to be the week after next, thus giving me a whole week between them in which I could study for Chem and forget Bio?
I was wrong.
It's Friday or nothing.
GAH!!!!!!
I don't have TIME to study for Chem AND Bio! That's what screwed me over last time when I flunked that Bio exam! How the hell am I supposed to deal with this? I mean, it's an optional final. But I really, really wanted it to be a choice, and now it might not be, not really.
As best as I can calculate, I have a 86% in that course, not factoring in the ACS exam and assuming I have about an 80 in lab. That's a B. I wanted to get an A-, but will settle (grudgingly) for a B+, which requires an 87%.
I don't know what grade I will have to get overall, all told, to induce me to try to study for Chem and take that final. I haven't decided if I want to settle for a B or not. I must think. And talk to my folks.
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Today I woke up at 11:00 or so when Vivacia (formerly known as Mistake, if you're not caught up on recent posts) called, asking me if I wanted to go to the mall. I, in sleepiness, replied that I thought I had stuff to do and I didn't think I could. She seemed rather upset but said okay.
About half an hour later, once I had actually woken up, I thought about it, and realized that I hadn't had anything planned for today besides meeting Ryter's mom for dinner, and I could have easily gone to the mall. So I called Vivacia back and spent waaaaay too long convincing her that I did actually want to go, but my sleepy coma had stopped me from voicing my true intentions.
So we went to the mall... I got a sundress, actually, though the whole point was to get gifts for Mother's Day. I got one of those too. But I did get a pretty red and white sundress for summer, and it was only $25. I also saw the prettiest red-gemstone silver ring at a really cool jewelry store in the mall, but it was $10 for one ring and I decided I shouldn't spend that much money on myself. But... PRETTY. And SHINY. I was sad. I really liked it.
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Vivacia wasn't feeling very well, but she needed a gift for her mom, and then we had to kill time before the bus got back, so we wandered around and made Closer stand in the girlie stores like Urban Behavior, and went to the pet store the next mall over and freaked out when a bunny looked like it was dying (he was fine), until the bus came and they left, and I stuck around to meet Ryter over by iParty.
Anyway, it was fun; I've missed seeing Vivacia. There is a well-documented syndrome that says the first time a girl gets a boyfriend, she will ditch her friends for the sake of the guy until she figures out how to balance the two. I didn't have this issue with KTMack because it was summer and I wasn't doing anything and he and Vivacia both had jobs. But now Vivacia and I both have classes and finals to study for, so I'm already crazy busy, and then I spend so much time with Ryter...
The trouble with this syndrome is all romantic relationships must eventually end*, but friendships needn't. Thus one should never forget their friends for a Significant Other, and I'm only now learning to balance the whole thing.
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Anyway, I met up with Ryter and Vivacia and Closer went home to study. We met at iParty so he could get some stuff for a class party. At about the same time I cautioned him that since he was having me spend the night at his place before his graduation, I was going to be obligated to decorate his apartment in the most gaudy, god-awful, tacky graduation-themed decorations I could find.
He is very enthusiastic about this idea.
We then went over to his car to wait for his mom. Fifteen minutes later, I met her and we went into T.G.I.Friday's for dinner. Ryter's mom is very nice, and man, can I see where Ryter gets it all. I mean, the two of them are soooo alike, even more so than Ryter and his dad. But she was cool and I got to have a decent meal, as opposed to school food.
Ryter and I hung out for a little while afterwards, but ended it earlier than usual. We were both tired. But it was a very good day, until I discovered the Chem stuff...
*We are ignoring the marriage alternative, of course. But having your spouse be your only close friend isn't that great an idea either.
I was wrong.
It's Friday or nothing.
GAH!!!!!!
I don't have TIME to study for Chem AND Bio! That's what screwed me over last time when I flunked that Bio exam! How the hell am I supposed to deal with this? I mean, it's an optional final. But I really, really wanted it to be a choice, and now it might not be, not really.
As best as I can calculate, I have a 86% in that course, not factoring in the ACS exam and assuming I have about an 80 in lab. That's a B. I wanted to get an A-, but will settle (grudgingly) for a B+, which requires an 87%.
I don't know what grade I will have to get overall, all told, to induce me to try to study for Chem and take that final. I haven't decided if I want to settle for a B or not. I must think. And talk to my folks.
Today I woke up at 11:00 or so when Vivacia (formerly known as Mistake, if you're not caught up on recent posts) called, asking me if I wanted to go to the mall. I, in sleepiness, replied that I thought I had stuff to do and I didn't think I could. She seemed rather upset but said okay.
About half an hour later, once I had actually woken up, I thought about it, and realized that I hadn't had anything planned for today besides meeting Ryter's mom for dinner, and I could have easily gone to the mall. So I called Vivacia back and spent waaaaay too long convincing her that I did actually want to go, but my sleepy coma had stopped me from voicing my true intentions.So we went to the mall... I got a sundress, actually, though the whole point was to get gifts for Mother's Day. I got one of those too. But I did get a pretty red and white sundress for summer, and it was only $25. I also saw the prettiest red-gemstone silver ring at a really cool jewelry store in the mall, but it was $10 for one ring and I decided I shouldn't spend that much money on myself. But... PRETTY. And SHINY. I was sad. I really liked it.
Vivacia wasn't feeling very well, but she needed a gift for her mom, and then we had to kill time before the bus got back, so we wandered around and made Closer stand in the girlie stores like Urban Behavior, and went to the pet store the next mall over and freaked out when a bunny looked like it was dying (he was fine), until the bus came and they left, and I stuck around to meet Ryter over by iParty.Anyway, it was fun; I've missed seeing Vivacia. There is a well-documented syndrome that says the first time a girl gets a boyfriend, she will ditch her friends for the sake of the guy until she figures out how to balance the two. I didn't have this issue with KTMack because it was summer and I wasn't doing anything and he and Vivacia both had jobs. But now Vivacia and I both have classes and finals to study for, so I'm already crazy busy, and then I spend so much time with Ryter...
The trouble with this syndrome is all romantic relationships must eventually end*, but friendships needn't. Thus one should never forget their friends for a Significant Other, and I'm only now learning to balance the whole thing.
Anyway, I met up with Ryter and Vivacia and Closer went home to study. We met at iParty so he could get some stuff for a class party. At about the same time I cautioned him that since he was having me spend the night at his place before his graduation, I was going to be obligated to decorate his apartment in the most gaudy, god-awful, tacky graduation-themed decorations I could find. He is very enthusiastic about this idea.
We then went over to his car to wait for his mom. Fifteen minutes later, I met her and we went into T.G.I.Friday's for dinner. Ryter's mom is very nice, and man, can I see where Ryter gets it all. I mean, the two of them are soooo alike, even more so than Ryter and his dad. But she was cool and I got to have a decent meal, as opposed to school food.
Ryter and I hung out for a little while afterwards, but ended it earlier than usual. We were both tired. But it was a very good day, until I discovered the Chem stuff...
*We are ignoring the marriage alternative, of course. But having your spouse be your only close friend isn't that great an idea either.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
"XYYYYYYYYYYYYZZY!!!"
Today is still the Megalasia, it continues until the tenth.
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Why is it that I always come home and eat? There is something about this house that makes me hungry. And it's not just that I'm eating despite not wanting to eat, my stomach is actually growling. I don't get it. This is why I need to work out over the summers, otherwise I'd gain like a hundred pounds.
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Tomorrow is Easter, which you should probably know already but oh well. I'm home for the night, laptop in tow, and Shrewd and I did some cooking for tomorrow and colored a dozen eggs. We won't hide them, but we have a tradition of painting "name eggs"-- eggs with the names of each person who will be eating Easter dinner with us written on them in crayon before the egg is dyed a bright primary color. Shrewd and I expect we will be painting name eggs when we are in our thirties. Everyone eats their own name egg, and the leftovers, also brightly colored, are divided up among us.
My great-aunt, the one who took me to the Christmas Revels last December, will be having Easter supper with us, along with her (male) life partner/significant other to whom she is not married (Her (M)LP/SOTWSINM for short). There will probably be mild interrogation and a slide show of my mother's recent trip to Hawaii.
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Speaking of which, she brought me gifts! A lei made out of nuts instead of flowers (and if you have a dirty mind like mine, that's pretty funny), and a lovely pearl necklace and earrings. And a book of Hawaiian mythology, filled with names I can't pronounce and cool stories I intend to read after I get done with both my homework and Ryter's most recent novel piece he sent to me for editing. So... some light summer reading. Too bad it's an inch and a half thick.
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Oh, and Shrewd wins the prize for best insult, today. I believe the conversation went thusly:
We were dyeing eggs, and at one point she said, "I like the eggs that aren't at all a natural color."
I, in the best example of my witticism, replied, "You're not a natural color."
"Yeah, well, you're polka dotted," she retorted.
"Really? Awesome! That would be so cool!"
"Dude, have you seen pictures from when you were twelve? I mean, hello, facewash."
It wins the prize for best insult because with her delivery, I was laughing harder than she was.
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But it's late, and we have company tomorrow, so I'm off...
Why is it that I always come home and eat? There is something about this house that makes me hungry. And it's not just that I'm eating despite not wanting to eat, my stomach is actually growling. I don't get it. This is why I need to work out over the summers, otherwise I'd gain like a hundred pounds.
Tomorrow is Easter, which you should probably know already but oh well. I'm home for the night, laptop in tow, and Shrewd and I did some cooking for tomorrow and colored a dozen eggs. We won't hide them, but we have a tradition of painting "name eggs"-- eggs with the names of each person who will be eating Easter dinner with us written on them in crayon before the egg is dyed a bright primary color. Shrewd and I expect we will be painting name eggs when we are in our thirties. Everyone eats their own name egg, and the leftovers, also brightly colored, are divided up among us.
My great-aunt, the one who took me to the Christmas Revels last December, will be having Easter supper with us, along with her (male) life partner/significant other to whom she is not married (Her (M)LP/SOTWSINM for short). There will probably be mild interrogation and a slide show of my mother's recent trip to Hawaii.
Speaking of which, she brought me gifts! A lei made out of nuts instead of flowers (and if you have a dirty mind like mine, that's pretty funny), and a lovely pearl necklace and earrings. And a book of Hawaiian mythology, filled with names I can't pronounce and cool stories I intend to read after I get done with both my homework and Ryter's most recent novel piece he sent to me for editing. So... some light summer reading. Too bad it's an inch and a half thick.
Oh, and Shrewd wins the prize for best insult, today. I believe the conversation went thusly:
We were dyeing eggs, and at one point she said, "I like the eggs that aren't at all a natural color."
I, in the best example of my witticism, replied, "You're not a natural color."
"Yeah, well, you're polka dotted," she retorted.
"Really? Awesome! That would be so cool!"
"Dude, have you seen pictures from when you were twelve? I mean, hello, facewash."
It wins the prize for best insult because with her delivery, I was laughing harder than she was.
But it's late, and we have company tomorrow, so I'm off...
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Happy Holidays
Sorry I've been MIA for so long- a whole week is a long time for me to forget to post. But see, I've been very busy, between work and holiday stuff...
Thus far, I've done cashiering and fitting room attending and now there's markdowns, which we have to finish up before the ninth because that's when the store does inventory. Pretty straightforward. I have had a bit of an issue with requesting time off... See, I needed to have tomorrow, New Year's Day, off for a big family party we go to every year. I also needed last night off to go see a concert which I will tell you about later. So on Thursday I reminded my manager of this, and she said, "Oh, why didn't you request time off?"
"I did," I replied. "I mentioned it to [the other manager] when I was hired and he asked me if there were any times I wouldn't be able to work."
"But you didn't get anything in writing?"
"I was supposed to get it in writing?"
Yes, I was. See, they had neglected to tell me that there are special forms to fill out when you want to have certain days off. And it was too late to fill out the forms for tomorrow. Argh... So I basically have to try to get someone to fill in for me but if no one can, my manager did say it'd probably be okay if I didn't come in.
I keep having issues with this stuff, because it's all so different from my last job. See, the daycare I used to work at kept the same schedule every week, and I could not miss work unless I gave them two week's notice or I was infectiously ill, because missing work caused serious ratio issues and there wasn't enough supervision for the kids. Plus, scheduling was all oral. That's because it was small and non-profit, but I can't get used to a normal system.
Oh well. They haven't fired me yet, and everyone says I'm a good worker. AS long as I don't come in plastered some day I should be fine.
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So, cool holiday stuff I've done:
THE CHRISTMAS REVELS
On the 23rd, I went to the Revels with my great-aunt. This particular great-aunt is not your classic stodgy type, but is one of my strongest role models. She's eccentric and kooky and has her doctorate in Italian Studies despite getting it at a time when such things simply weren't done by women, and she's generally great fun. She was a professor of Italian for years, and she's just finished writing a translation of Italian poetry and she's getting it published.
She was kind of the black sheep of her family. The youngest of four sisters, she lived in Italy for a good chunk of her adult life and never married. Radical feminist, rabid liberal, all that fun stuff. But she mellowed a lot after her stroke and with age. Anyway, she lives in Arlington with her (male) life partner/significant other to whom she is not married, and every year she takes one of us grand-nieces or nephew to see the Christmas Revels in Sanders Theatre in Cambridge.
The Revels are a musical play/performance put on all through December every year. They change the theme each season and this year, the theme was Germanic Christmases, so they talked about St. Nicholas and his legends and Knecht Ruprecht, his companion. St. Nicholas narrated the performance, and there were traditional songs and dances, including several where the audience sings along, and then the one song and dance right before intermission where the whole audience gets up and goes out into the entrance hall and dances together and sings. It was a lot of fun.
At one point St. Nicholas called up to the stage four audience members and sat them down and asked them if they were naughty or nice, and then insisted that they tell him one thing that they had done that was naughty over the past year. The first two answered with the tamest sins they could imagine- "I eat too many sweets" and "Sometimes I don't do my chores." The next was a little girl, and St. Nicholas coaxed her, saying, "Now remember, what happens in Sanders Theatre, stays in Sanders Theatre" and then looked out over the 200 or so faces in the audience. She said she couldn't think of anything she'd done naughty, and then the last person, a middle-aged man, confessed a real sin, as if Nicholas was real, and we all cracked up and it became a running joke for the rest of the show.
If there's a Revels in your area or you live near Boston, you should go some year. It's funny, the music is beautiful, and the dancing is really neat. The atmosphere in general is wonderful and there's a real sense of community there. It's terrific.
I spent the night at my aunt's house and returned home for work the next day, missing a chance for a lobster dinner with my aunt's significant other's son. This made me sad, but oh well. Not like there's not enough good food around the holidays.
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CHRISTMAS EVE
I didn't think I was supposed to work on Christmas Eve, because I didn't understand that schedules at normal places change every week. So I was two hours late, after getting a call from my boss. I felt really bad about it but there wasn't much I could do, it was an honest, if silly, mistake. But it wasn't that busy anyway, just some frantic husbands looking for jewelry or scarves, and we got out early- at 6 pm- which meant that I was able to go home for some Christmas Eve traditions.
I baked sugar cookies, much to my diabetic father's chagrin, and put some out for Santa. You can tell my parents are sort of abandoning the traditional pretense of Santa because they didn't even bother to bite the cookies like usual. Oh well. Daddy says that we'll get presents as long as we can be considered "schoolchildren," which is partially to set a limit on Santa gifts and partially to tempt Shrewd into going to graduate school. I asked if that means I'm going to get gifts from Santa until I graduate med school at age 26, or until I complete my residency at age 30, but Daddy just made a face at me.
Then we ordered Chinese food. This is a very important Christmas Eve tradition. Mummy cooks all Christmas Eve Day for Christmas, and doesn't want to cook for Christmas Eve, so we need to order takeout- but the Chinese part is a tradition. Years ago my paternal grandmother's brother, my great-uncle, decided to order takeout from one of his customers on Christmas Eve to support the man, and the man happened to own a Chinese restaurant. So my great-uncle walks through the door with "dinner-" more than enough food to feed an army. Christmas Eve, we order enough Chinese food for twenty people- we know that's what the restaurant expects because that's how many fortune cookies we get- and divide it among six eaters (my paternal grandfather spends Christmas with us). That's why I'm not allowed to eat Chinese food all through December- to prepare.
That's Christmas Eve around here- hang the stockings, put out cookies, stuff ourselves with Lo Mein and go to sleep. Great fun.
I had to sleep on Shrewd's floor, though, because I was put on the sofa bed downstairs to allow my grandfather a little more privacy and mattress quality and it kinda ruins the pretense of Santa if you see your parents creep by your bed to stuff your stockings. Shrewd's floor is dirty, crowded, and smells like eel, which is what she was carving up at work that day. She reports that she does not like to skin eels.
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CHRISTMAS DAY
Shrewd and I woke up at 7:00, then waited until 8:30 when Grandpa woke up before we alerted The Brother and then went to go jump on Mummy and Daddy's bed. This, by the way, was a lot better for the furniture when we were 6, 9, and 11 instead of 16, 19, and 21. There was much pretense of being incredibly excited to see what Santa brought, more for the tradition than anything. Once Grandpa and the parents had gone downstairs, gotten some coffee, and established themselves in the family room, we were released, but the usual barreling down the stairs has become much more sedated with our advancing years.
Every year, we each get one big present from Santa, which almost never actually fits in the stocking, and then a bunch of candy and fun little things in the stocking. My big present was somewhat exciting- a digital camera. Awesome. Now I can put pictures up that I actually took, instead of stealing them from online. Then we each opened one non-Santa gift, including the adults that have been adults long enough to not be considered "the children."
We ate our traditional Christmas Breakfast of fresh-squeezed orange juice, egg casserole (half with no sausage, half with no veggies, and another pan with both- my poor mother), sweet rolls and pumpkin bread, and special sugar-free apricot bread for my dad. That last one is a new addition. Oh, and there was chocolate for breakfast, but that's pretty much par for the course around here.
After that, we opened gifts until my great aunt, and her significant other (honestly, "boyfriend" is inadequate but they aren't married, what should I call him?) arrived for Christmas dinner. My mom prepared two main dishes, one the traditional roast for Christmas and the other essentially just for me, because she can't seem to understand that I can eat side dishes. But the turkey was very good.
We finished opening presents after dinner, with our guests, and then we had pies made by my grandfather and played Trivial Pursuit until my great-aunt had to leave. It was a lot of fun. There were several cool gifts, like my mom's new Roomba, which we spent a ridiculously long amount of time watching as it cleaned the room. That thing's pretty sweet. Also cool was my new brown sweater, which my mother gave me, and which she herself admits makes me look sexy. Mothers are not supposed to say these things, it's weird. But I do love the sweater.
I also got these really neat disease plushies, E. Coli, the Common Cold and Strep Throat, which Shrewd is very jealous of, and a lovely new jewelry box that has almost enough space for my earrings. I have a lot of earrings.
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BLUE MAN GROUP
Yes, we went to see Blue Man Group perform last night. It was... AWESOME. Everyone needs to see Blue Man Group once in their life. There was drumming on water and toilet paper and strobe lights and honestly, I can't describe it except to say it was funny and cool and... an experience. That's a good term, an experience.
Afterwards we all went to Finale, a very expensive but wonderful dessert shop. We ordered a couple desserts and split them. I had been there once before, with the Girl Scouts, so it was my idea. Finale is the kind of place you can financially go to only every once in a while, with intervals depending on your income, but probably not more than once a year. Health-wise, I'd recommend at least five years between visits. "Sugar-free" is like a curse-word there.
This kinda sucked for my diabetic father, but I think everyone liked the desserts. but my brother's poor girlfriend seemed a little startled that they were to be shared. I hope we didn't scare her off too bad.
Also with us was my maternal grandmother, who came up only two days after my grandfather left, so I had my own bed for a grand total of two nights. But I'm all set up to sleep in the basement now, since I decided I couldn't handle the total lack of privacy that comes from sleeping in the living room. I have an air mattress and a whole mess of blankets, because the basement is freezing.
Anyway, Grammy came with us to the concert and then afterwards we opened her presents to us, which didn't take very long. She gave each of us kids an iPod Nano, which is pretty cool. Shrewd might exchange hers for a Creative player, but she's not sure yet. So between the digital camera and the iPod I've gotten both of the big gifts that I wanted. Very cool.
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So those are my holidays. I wanted to have a friends party but I never found the time, though I might do one in January before school starts up again. I may or may not be returning to regular posts, but I definitely will start up with normal posting when I return to school on the 16th.
Thus far, I've done cashiering and fitting room attending and now there's markdowns, which we have to finish up before the ninth because that's when the store does inventory. Pretty straightforward. I have had a bit of an issue with requesting time off... See, I needed to have tomorrow, New Year's Day, off for a big family party we go to every year. I also needed last night off to go see a concert which I will tell you about later. So on Thursday I reminded my manager of this, and she said, "Oh, why didn't you request time off?"
"I did," I replied. "I mentioned it to [the other manager] when I was hired and he asked me if there were any times I wouldn't be able to work."
"But you didn't get anything in writing?"
"I was supposed to get it in writing?"
Yes, I was. See, they had neglected to tell me that there are special forms to fill out when you want to have certain days off. And it was too late to fill out the forms for tomorrow. Argh... So I basically have to try to get someone to fill in for me but if no one can, my manager did say it'd probably be okay if I didn't come in.
I keep having issues with this stuff, because it's all so different from my last job. See, the daycare I used to work at kept the same schedule every week, and I could not miss work unless I gave them two week's notice or I was infectiously ill, because missing work caused serious ratio issues and there wasn't enough supervision for the kids. Plus, scheduling was all oral. That's because it was small and non-profit, but I can't get used to a normal system.
Oh well. They haven't fired me yet, and everyone says I'm a good worker. AS long as I don't come in plastered some day I should be fine.
--------------------------------
So, cool holiday stuff I've done:
THE CHRISTMAS REVELS
On the 23rd, I went to the Revels with my great-aunt. This particular great-aunt is not your classic stodgy type, but is one of my strongest role models. She's eccentric and kooky and has her doctorate in Italian Studies despite getting it at a time when such things simply weren't done by women, and she's generally great fun. She was a professor of Italian for years, and she's just finished writing a translation of Italian poetry and she's getting it published.
She was kind of the black sheep of her family. The youngest of four sisters, she lived in Italy for a good chunk of her adult life and never married. Radical feminist, rabid liberal, all that fun stuff. But she mellowed a lot after her stroke and with age. Anyway, she lives in Arlington with her (male) life partner/significant other to whom she is not married, and every year she takes one of us grand-nieces or nephew to see the Christmas Revels in Sanders Theatre in Cambridge.
The Revels are a musical play/performance put on all through December every year. They change the theme each season and this year, the theme was Germanic Christmases, so they talked about St. Nicholas and his legends and Knecht Ruprecht, his companion. St. Nicholas narrated the performance, and there were traditional songs and dances, including several where the audience sings along, and then the one song and dance right before intermission where the whole audience gets up and goes out into the entrance hall and dances together and sings. It was a lot of fun.
At one point St. Nicholas called up to the stage four audience members and sat them down and asked them if they were naughty or nice, and then insisted that they tell him one thing that they had done that was naughty over the past year. The first two answered with the tamest sins they could imagine- "I eat too many sweets" and "Sometimes I don't do my chores." The next was a little girl, and St. Nicholas coaxed her, saying, "Now remember, what happens in Sanders Theatre, stays in Sanders Theatre" and then looked out over the 200 or so faces in the audience. She said she couldn't think of anything she'd done naughty, and then the last person, a middle-aged man, confessed a real sin, as if Nicholas was real, and we all cracked up and it became a running joke for the rest of the show.If there's a Revels in your area or you live near Boston, you should go some year. It's funny, the music is beautiful, and the dancing is really neat. The atmosphere in general is wonderful and there's a real sense of community there. It's terrific.
I spent the night at my aunt's house and returned home for work the next day, missing a chance for a lobster dinner with my aunt's significant other's son. This made me sad, but oh well. Not like there's not enough good food around the holidays.
-------
CHRISTMAS EVE
I didn't think I was supposed to work on Christmas Eve, because I didn't understand that schedules at normal places change every week. So I was two hours late, after getting a call from my boss. I felt really bad about it but there wasn't much I could do, it was an honest, if silly, mistake. But it wasn't that busy anyway, just some frantic husbands looking for jewelry or scarves, and we got out early- at 6 pm- which meant that I was able to go home for some Christmas Eve traditions.
I baked sugar cookies, much to my diabetic father's chagrin, and put some out for Santa. You can tell my parents are sort of abandoning the traditional pretense of Santa because they didn't even bother to bite the cookies like usual. Oh well. Daddy says that we'll get presents as long as we can be considered "schoolchildren," which is partially to set a limit on Santa gifts and partially to tempt Shrewd into going to graduate school. I asked if that means I'm going to get gifts from Santa until I graduate med school at age 26, or until I complete my residency at age 30, but Daddy just made a face at me.
Then we ordered Chinese food. This is a very important Christmas Eve tradition. Mummy cooks all Christmas Eve Day for Christmas, and doesn't want to cook for Christmas Eve, so we need to order takeout- but the Chinese part is a tradition. Years ago my paternal grandmother's brother, my great-uncle, decided to order takeout from one of his customers on Christmas Eve to support the man, and the man happened to own a Chinese restaurant. So my great-uncle walks through the door with "dinner-" more than enough food to feed an army. Christmas Eve, we order enough Chinese food for twenty people- we know that's what the restaurant expects because that's how many fortune cookies we get- and divide it among six eaters (my paternal grandfather spends Christmas with us). That's why I'm not allowed to eat Chinese food all through December- to prepare.That's Christmas Eve around here- hang the stockings, put out cookies, stuff ourselves with Lo Mein and go to sleep. Great fun.
I had to sleep on Shrewd's floor, though, because I was put on the sofa bed downstairs to allow my grandfather a little more privacy and mattress quality and it kinda ruins the pretense of Santa if you see your parents creep by your bed to stuff your stockings. Shrewd's floor is dirty, crowded, and smells like eel, which is what she was carving up at work that day. She reports that she does not like to skin eels.
-------
CHRISTMAS DAY
Shrewd and I woke up at 7:00, then waited until 8:30 when Grandpa woke up before we alerted The Brother and then went to go jump on Mummy and Daddy's bed. This, by the way, was a lot better for the furniture when we were 6, 9, and 11 instead of 16, 19, and 21. There was much pretense of being incredibly excited to see what Santa brought, more for the tradition than anything. Once Grandpa and the parents had gone downstairs, gotten some coffee, and established themselves in the family room, we were released, but the usual barreling down the stairs has become much more sedated with our advancing years.
Every year, we each get one big present from Santa, which almost never actually fits in the stocking, and then a bunch of candy and fun little things in the stocking. My big present was somewhat exciting- a digital camera. Awesome. Now I can put pictures up that I actually took, instead of stealing them from online. Then we each opened one non-Santa gift, including the adults that have been adults long enough to not be considered "the children."We ate our traditional Christmas Breakfast of fresh-squeezed orange juice, egg casserole (half with no sausage, half with no veggies, and another pan with both- my poor mother), sweet rolls and pumpkin bread, and special sugar-free apricot bread for my dad. That last one is a new addition. Oh, and there was chocolate for breakfast, but that's pretty much par for the course around here.
After that, we opened gifts until my great aunt, and her significant other (honestly, "boyfriend" is inadequate but they aren't married, what should I call him?) arrived for Christmas dinner. My mom prepared two main dishes, one the traditional roast for Christmas and the other essentially just for me, because she can't seem to understand that I can eat side dishes. But the turkey was very good.
We finished opening presents after dinner, with our guests, and then we had pies made by my grandfather and played Trivial Pursuit until my great-aunt had to leave. It was a lot of fun. There were several cool gifts, like my mom's new Roomba, which we spent a ridiculously long amount of time watching as it cleaned the room. That thing's pretty sweet. Also cool was my new brown sweater, which my mother gave me, and which she herself admits makes me look sexy. Mothers are not supposed to say these things, it's weird. But I do love the sweater.
I also got these really neat disease plushies, E. Coli, the Common Cold and Strep Throat, which Shrewd is very jealous of, and a lovely new jewelry box that has almost enough space for my earrings. I have a lot of earrings.------
BLUE MAN GROUPYes, we went to see Blue Man Group perform last night. It was... AWESOME. Everyone needs to see Blue Man Group once in their life. There was drumming on water and toilet paper and strobe lights and honestly, I can't describe it except to say it was funny and cool and... an experience. That's a good term, an experience.
Afterwards we all went to Finale, a very expensive but wonderful dessert shop. We ordered a couple desserts and split them. I had been there once before, with the Girl Scouts, so it was my idea. Finale is the kind of place you can financially go to only every once in a while, with intervals depending on your income, but probably not more than once a year. Health-wise, I'd recommend at least five years between visits. "Sugar-free" is like a curse-word there.This kinda sucked for my diabetic father, but I think everyone liked the desserts. but my brother's poor girlfriend seemed a little startled that they were to be shared. I hope we didn't scare her off too bad.
Also with us was my maternal grandmother, who came up only two days after my grandfather left, so I had my own bed for a grand total of two nights. But I'm all set up to sleep in the basement now, since I decided I couldn't handle the total lack of privacy that comes from sleeping in the living room. I have an air mattress and a whole mess of blankets, because the basement is freezing.
Anyway, Grammy came with us to the concert and then afterwards we opened her presents to us, which didn't take very long. She gave each of us kids an iPod Nano, which is pretty cool. Shrewd might exchange hers for a Creative player, but she's not sure yet. So between the digital camera and the iPod I've gotten both of the big gifts that I wanted. Very cool.
--------------------------------
So those are my holidays. I wanted to have a friends party but I never found the time, though I might do one in January before school starts up again. I may or may not be returning to regular posts, but I definitely will start up with normal posting when I return to school on the 16th.
Monday, December 18, 2006
A-Shopping We Will Go
My mother's crazy schedule as of late lead her to ask my father to handle much of the year's gift-buying. My father promptly asked his go-to girl on the subject of Buying Stuff- me.
So today, instead of cleaning the house as I originally intended, I helped my dad buy Christmas gifts- including, I might add, my own stocking stuffers. My mother was rather displeased when she discovered this, but hey, it's her fault for asking Daddy to do anything.
Luckily I also got much of my own shopping out of the way.
I also cleaned the kitchen (mostly) and the kids' bathroom, the two dirtiest rooms in the house. They're already messy again, after my absence for four hours. I'm rather displeased.
IN other news, The Brother has come up with a Christmas gift idea for his girlfriend and it's the cutest thing in the world. It appears that all those years of telling the kid about romance and wooing girls and all the jazz actually sunk in. We've made him into a geeky Casanova.
I feel like I should cackle maniacally right now.
Anyway, I'm wondering just one thing: If we managed to basically guarantee that The Brother could get and keep any girl he chooses, why the heck couldn't we have arranged for, say, Shrewd and I to be equally adept at amazing the gentlemen?
Oh yeah. Because Mummy, Shrewd, and I actually know what girls want, and Daddy can back us up on it. Whereas anyone in this family who thinks they understand men keeps it to themselves.
In other words, we're the opposite of the norm: most people know all there is to know about the minds of men and nothing about women. We seem to have the reverse condition...
So today, instead of cleaning the house as I originally intended, I helped my dad buy Christmas gifts- including, I might add, my own stocking stuffers. My mother was rather displeased when she discovered this, but hey, it's her fault for asking Daddy to do anything.
Luckily I also got much of my own shopping out of the way.
I also cleaned the kitchen (mostly) and the kids' bathroom, the two dirtiest rooms in the house. They're already messy again, after my absence for four hours. I'm rather displeased.
IN other news, The Brother has come up with a Christmas gift idea for his girlfriend and it's the cutest thing in the world. It appears that all those years of telling the kid about romance and wooing girls and all the jazz actually sunk in. We've made him into a geeky Casanova.
I feel like I should cackle maniacally right now.
Anyway, I'm wondering just one thing: If we managed to basically guarantee that The Brother could get and keep any girl he chooses, why the heck couldn't we have arranged for, say, Shrewd and I to be equally adept at amazing the gentlemen?
Oh yeah. Because Mummy, Shrewd, and I actually know what girls want, and Daddy can back us up on it. Whereas anyone in this family who thinks they understand men keeps it to themselves.
In other words, we're the opposite of the norm: most people know all there is to know about the minds of men and nothing about women. We seem to have the reverse condition...
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
I had really good ravioli for lunch today
It's the Agonalia Indigeti, today, which was celebrated four times a year (January, March, May, and December). The thing about the Agonalia is all the Romans knew was they were to publicly sacrifice a ram. They didn't know why, or to whom. Just that they were supposed to do it. Which makes it one of the more ridiculous holidays.
It's also the Septimontium, a festival celebrating the wall that was built around all seven hills of Rome.
-----------------------
Two nights ago I blogged about people criticizing overweight people and telling them to just "diet and exercise" like it was the easiest thing in the world. I guess now I'm going to tell the other extreme. Have you ever read a pro-ana website? It's ridiculous. You think, god, these girls can't be for real; even if they think about it, surely they won't admit it. You tell me you're 5'9" and 100 lbs, and all you ate today was a half an apple and a bite of turkey, and you're so mad that you had to gain ten pounds because your boyfriend told you he'd break up with you if you didn't start taking better care of yourself? Honestly.
The trouble with either eating disorder- overeating or undereating- is that in this modern day and age, you can find someone who celebrates your unhealthy body. There are support groups for overweight people, telling them to celebrate themselves as Big Beautiful Women, ignoring the fact that they are at a greater risk of many illnesses. "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't diet away our lovely extra pounds."
My father always said the most basic, universal standard of beauty was health. That's why most guys like girls who are thin, but not thin enough that their bones show in weird places. That's why big boobs and some junk in the trunk is sexy. And that's why the number one standard of beauty is good skin. You will never find a website support group saying "Society is being spiteful, and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't wash our skin once a day to chase away our lovely acne."
Health and weight, though, poses a problem. What's healthy? Used to be weight was a sign that you ate well enough, so weight was beautiful. Now, most people in this country can get a decent amount to eat, but we've discovered the health problems associated with being fat, so thin is in. None of this changes the fact that absolutely no fat is as unhealthy as a lot of it is. Beauty is being at your ideal weight. Not too thin or too heavy. And your ideal weight is not what you think would be a good weight to be, but rather what your doctor tells you it should be. My doctor tells me to lose a few pounds. Thus, I'm overweight. If your doctor tells you you could stand to put some meat on your bones, you could.
Look, there is nothing sexy about a preteen body with bones jutting out at weird angles. These girls set ridiculous goals and then proudly boast their accomplishments before deciding that that was easy enough, they can go further, further... And when someone tries to intervene, they say, "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't force-feed ourselves until we swell up like a balloon." Or my favorite, "They're just jealous of my body."
It seems that whatever your body type, they're jealous of it. They want to be big and beautiful, and be able to eat whatever they want without caring that they're heavy. They want to be supermodel thin, and look like the girls in the fashion magazines. Well, kids, I hate to break it to you. I don't want to look like that. I want to have muscles; a toned stomach, nice arms, great legs. I also want to hide my ribcage and keep my breasts. I want to look- and feel- healthy. I know what that means for me. Do you?
Weight is not about self-image, honestly. If you listen to your doctor, and stick within what he recommends, you're fine. I'm sick of people criticizing society for not letting them stay at an unhealthy weight. Yes, it's your body, and your choice. But if your eating habits are incredibly, obviously unhealthy- or if you're in a chat room telling everyone that you're anorexic or that you're a compulsive eater, then people have the right to point it out, if they're nice about it. Especially your doctor- he doesn't just have the right, he has the responsibility.
-----------------------
That said: Being thin does not mean you're anorexic. Plenty of people are a little underweight because of their metabolism, but anorexia is when they're not trying to stay at a doctor-recommended weight. And while I've never been on this side, as far as I can tell, the only thing that compares to the challenge of loosing weight it gaining it if you have a fast metabolism. There are people who eat until they feel like they're going to explode and they can't stay at a healthy weight. There is a physical limit to how much people can eat, and these people have to push themselves past it every day. I feel bad for them. I swear that's not even a joke, can you imagine having to eat, eat, eat once your stomach already felt hard and dense as a rock? Besides, when you gain weight, you feel gross and sluggish even if your body needs it, because it's just not used to the change.
I admit, I make anorexia jokes about girls who are very thin. I'd never do that if I really thought they were ill, but that doesn't make it any more fair that I joke about anorexia but get mad if people joke about weight. The trouble is, we live in a world where a joke about someone being bone-skinny is not seen as being nearly as mean as making a joke about them being overweight. But I'm getting better. I don't make those jokes nearly as much. It's been nearly two months, I think, since I made one, besides the occasional benign "you're so skinny" comment or getting mad at a girl if she claims she's fat when her diameter is half of mine, which is really more of a "remember who you're talking to" comment than anything else.
I'm not perfect. I know what I should do, and I try, but I make a LOT of mistakes. Which is why I have so few friends.
-----------------------
Meanwhile, one of those few friends- actually, a guy that I barely consider my friend anymore, since I haven't seen him since graduation and wasn't really planning to make an effort to see him again,informed me today that he wants to meet so he can give me my Christmas present. Uhm... what? We barely spoke all senior year, we haven't really been what I'd classify "friends" since the beginning of junior year... why is he giving me a gift? Honestly, does he even know me well enough to get me something I'd like? Meanwhile this means (it was expressly implied) that I have to get
him a gift, too. And I haven't a CLUE what to get him (See gift idea #1 at right). I don't usually buy my friends Christmas gifts except for Mistake, because I've known her for so long she might as well be family. But I mean, if asked, I would have described Mack as my best friend last Christmas, and I didn't get him a gift, at least not one specifically tailored to him. And this year, it's a small gift for Mistake as always, and nothing for the rest of them unless it's something they can eat. I might bake cookies or something. The point is to make a gift they won't feel bad about accepting if they didn't get me anything, and I don't expect them to get me anything.
So it's actually more of a problem than a benefit for me. Because he doesn't know me well enough to get me something I need, so I'm guessing it's either something that's obviously related to something I'm interested in, or it's just a really bad gift.
And what do I get for him? I haven't a clue what he's interested in, and I'm not about to spend more money on him that I spend on a girl I've been friends with since kindergarten, so that leaves me with a pretty small budget. Grr...
I might check the stocking-stuffer bin at the Discovery Store to see if they have anything really inexpensive that's still cool. Dammit, though, this complicates life!
-----------------------
Exam #1 is over. Bio is out of the way. Loquatia and I studied together, and we explained to each other what we didn't understand, so it was really helpful. I think I did okay. My guess is 90%, maybe 85% if we were studying something wrong or if he's really picky.
And I got an 81% in Bio lab, and an 80% in Chem lab, both a lot better than I feared, so that's good.
Tomorrow: Latin. Not too much of a concern. Then Chem on Thursday, which is a concern- a HUGE concern.
And I still need to pack up for the break. Hmm.
Well, study-break's over. Back to work for this grade slave.
It's also the Septimontium, a festival celebrating the wall that was built around all seven hills of Rome.
-----------------------
Two nights ago I blogged about people criticizing overweight people and telling them to just "diet and exercise" like it was the easiest thing in the world. I guess now I'm going to tell the other extreme. Have you ever read a pro-ana website? It's ridiculous. You think, god, these girls can't be for real; even if they think about it, surely they won't admit it. You tell me you're 5'9" and 100 lbs, and all you ate today was a half an apple and a bite of turkey, and you're so mad that you had to gain ten pounds because your boyfriend told you he'd break up with you if you didn't start taking better care of yourself? Honestly.
The trouble with either eating disorder- overeating or undereating- is that in this modern day and age, you can find someone who celebrates your unhealthy body. There are support groups for overweight people, telling them to celebrate themselves as Big Beautiful Women, ignoring the fact that they are at a greater risk of many illnesses. "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't diet away our lovely extra pounds."
My father always said the most basic, universal standard of beauty was health. That's why most guys like girls who are thin, but not thin enough that their bones show in weird places. That's why big boobs and some junk in the trunk is sexy. And that's why the number one standard of beauty is good skin. You will never find a website support group saying "Society is being spiteful, and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't wash our skin once a day to chase away our lovely acne."Health and weight, though, poses a problem. What's healthy? Used to be weight was a sign that you ate well enough, so weight was beautiful. Now, most people in this country can get a decent amount to eat, but we've discovered the health problems associated with being fat, so thin is in. None of this changes the fact that absolutely no fat is as unhealthy as a lot of it is. Beauty is being at your ideal weight. Not too thin or too heavy. And your ideal weight is not what you think would be a good weight to be, but rather what your doctor tells you it should be. My doctor tells me to lose a few pounds. Thus, I'm overweight. If your doctor tells you you could stand to put some meat on your bones, you could.
Look, there is nothing sexy about a preteen body with bones jutting out at weird angles. These girls set ridiculous goals and then proudly boast their accomplishments before deciding that that was easy enough, they can go further, further... And when someone tries to intervene, they say, "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't force-feed ourselves until we swell up like a balloon." Or my favorite, "They're just jealous of my body."
It seems that whatever your body type, they're jealous of it. They want to be big and beautiful, and be able to eat whatever they want without caring that they're heavy. They want to be supermodel thin, and look like the girls in the fashion magazines. Well, kids, I hate to break it to you. I don't want to look like that. I want to have muscles; a toned stomach, nice arms, great legs. I also want to hide my ribcage and keep my breasts. I want to look- and feel- healthy. I know what that means for me. Do you?Weight is not about self-image, honestly. If you listen to your doctor, and stick within what he recommends, you're fine. I'm sick of people criticizing society for not letting them stay at an unhealthy weight. Yes, it's your body, and your choice. But if your eating habits are incredibly, obviously unhealthy- or if you're in a chat room telling everyone that you're anorexic or that you're a compulsive eater, then people have the right to point it out, if they're nice about it. Especially your doctor- he doesn't just have the right, he has the responsibility.
-----------------------
That said: Being thin does not mean you're anorexic. Plenty of people are a little underweight because of their metabolism, but anorexia is when they're not trying to stay at a doctor-recommended weight. And while I've never been on this side, as far as I can tell, the only thing that compares to the challenge of loosing weight it gaining it if you have a fast metabolism. There are people who eat until they feel like they're going to explode and they can't stay at a healthy weight. There is a physical limit to how much people can eat, and these people have to push themselves past it every day. I feel bad for them. I swear that's not even a joke, can you imagine having to eat, eat, eat once your stomach already felt hard and dense as a rock? Besides, when you gain weight, you feel gross and sluggish even if your body needs it, because it's just not used to the change.
I admit, I make anorexia jokes about girls who are very thin. I'd never do that if I really thought they were ill, but that doesn't make it any more fair that I joke about anorexia but get mad if people joke about weight. The trouble is, we live in a world where a joke about someone being bone-skinny is not seen as being nearly as mean as making a joke about them being overweight. But I'm getting better. I don't make those jokes nearly as much. It's been nearly two months, I think, since I made one, besides the occasional benign "you're so skinny" comment or getting mad at a girl if she claims she's fat when her diameter is half of mine, which is really more of a "remember who you're talking to" comment than anything else.
I'm not perfect. I know what I should do, and I try, but I make a LOT of mistakes. Which is why I have so few friends.
-----------------------
Meanwhile, one of those few friends- actually, a guy that I barely consider my friend anymore, since I haven't seen him since graduation and wasn't really planning to make an effort to see him again,informed me today that he wants to meet so he can give me my Christmas present. Uhm... what? We barely spoke all senior year, we haven't really been what I'd classify "friends" since the beginning of junior year... why is he giving me a gift? Honestly, does he even know me well enough to get me something I'd like? Meanwhile this means (it was expressly implied) that I have to get
him a gift, too. And I haven't a CLUE what to get him (See gift idea #1 at right). I don't usually buy my friends Christmas gifts except for Mistake, because I've known her for so long she might as well be family. But I mean, if asked, I would have described Mack as my best friend last Christmas, and I didn't get him a gift, at least not one specifically tailored to him. And this year, it's a small gift for Mistake as always, and nothing for the rest of them unless it's something they can eat. I might bake cookies or something. The point is to make a gift they won't feel bad about accepting if they didn't get me anything, and I don't expect them to get me anything.So it's actually more of a problem than a benefit for me. Because he doesn't know me well enough to get me something I need, so I'm guessing it's either something that's obviously related to something I'm interested in, or it's just a really bad gift.
And what do I get for him? I haven't a clue what he's interested in, and I'm not about to spend more money on him that I spend on a girl I've been friends with since kindergarten, so that leaves me with a pretty small budget. Grr...
I might check the stocking-stuffer bin at the Discovery Store to see if they have anything really inexpensive that's still cool. Dammit, though, this complicates life!
-----------------------
Exam #1 is over. Bio is out of the way. Loquatia and I studied together, and we explained to each other what we didn't understand, so it was really helpful. I think I did okay. My guess is 90%, maybe 85% if we were studying something wrong or if he's really picky.
And I got an 81% in Bio lab, and an 80% in Chem lab, both a lot better than I feared, so that's good.
Tomorrow: Latin. Not too much of a concern. Then Chem on Thursday, which is a concern- a HUGE concern.
And I still need to pack up for the break. Hmm.
Well, study-break's over. Back to work for this grade slave.
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