headless barbie

Hey Ugly. Yeah, You.

2006-05-27T20:56:00.000-07:00

Would you hang out with somebody who called you ugly? How about somebody who just implied it?

The other day I moped around and tried to figure out my downer mood. I realized that the problem was I felt fat. My feminist side cringes at the phrase, but I did. (You know, it's mildly embarrassing to call yourself a feminist, just like calling yourself as "liberal" is social suicide in some circles. Does that mean there's a backlash against the backlashers?)

"Seriously," my fat-feeling personality said, "I'll have to wear a bathing suit when I visit Marla in August. The last time she saw me I was maybe 15 pounds lighter. Granted, it was also about 8 years ago. But the fact remains that you, self, are fat."

My feminist-leaning personality answered, "Everybody's metabolism slows down as they get older. You're at a normal weight for your height, so drop it."

Then all my other personalities (I don't know how many total, they don't hold still long enough for me to count) started watching TV, right? Then they went, "Holy crap, you are fat, Michelle! Just look at these bony waifs! They must be the norm, and you're the grotesque aberration! Oh my god, you're a fat freak!"

So we all started wrestling for control of the remote. Some of us wanted to turn off the TV altogether. Others just tried to see if Jon Stewart was on yet, or what snarky nostalgic list show was on VHI, or what horrible thing a man did to a woman in Lifetime's TV movie. But then Tracy got ahold of the remote and flipped to one of her myriad crime shows. And all the detective chicks were skinny. That's why I like books better.

Anyway if you had a verbally abusive friend like this (or a more subtle one), would you really consider her a friend? I'm telling you the TV sends me subliminal messages like these: "Quit stuffing your pie hole, fatty. Why don't you look like Jennifer Aniston? Only thin people are worthwhile human beings. And also, buy a Ford."

But in keeping with my critical thinking theme (see Carl Sagan-loving entries), it would help me to become more media literate. You know, go behind the scenes and see that models are airbrushed, actresses are bulimic, Kirsten Dunst has droopy boobs and everybody can just bite me. I've had it with feeling inadequate. I want to vote those personalities off the island. (My loopy posts are often written late at night, go figure.)

Reality-Based Living

2006-05-26T17:54:00.000-07:00

"If you try to introduce Craig to anything even remotely made up, he starts going off about 'evidence this' and 'proof that.'" Gina Hitchens, "Skeptic Pitied," The Onion 01/22/03

For a long time after losing my faith, I just fumed and seethed about organized religion. What really sucked is that after I lost faith, the public at large seemed to find it. Especially with the Bush Administration in power, it was almost trendy to wear your religion on your sleeve.

I'm still disgusted about my experience. It was a really painful disillusionment. But I'm also happier at this point in my life than ever before. How could that be? They taught me JOY came from prioritizing like this: Jesus, Others, Yourself. But not only was I depressed back then, I'm genuinely happy as an unbeliever. (At least until I die, and burn in eternal hell!)

If you've ever had your beliefs twisted, turned, and finally broken so you had to replace them, you'll know that totally warped feeling. But it's also liberating to start all over. I love the skeptic everyone pities in that Onion article:

"I honestly feel sorry for the guy. To live in this world not believing in a higher power, doubting that Christ died for our sins - that's such a sad, cynical way to live. I don't know how he gets through his day."

"Craig is a really great guy. It's just too bad he's chosen to cut himself off from the world of the paranormal, restricting himself to the limited universe of what can be seen and heard and verified through empirical evidence."

"I admit, science might be great for curing diseases, exploring space, cataloguing the natural phenomena of our world, saving endangered species, extending the human lifespan, and enriching the quality of that life. But at the end of the day, science has nothing to tell us about the human soul, and that's a critical thing Craig is missing. I would hate for his soul to be lost forever because of a stubborn doubt over the actual existence and nature of that soul."

"I realize that Craig seems very happy with his narrow little common sense-based worldview, but when you think about all the widely embraced beliefs that are excluded by that way of thinking, you have to feel kind of sad."

See why I love the Onion?

The Meaning of Nightmares

2006-05-24T06:11:00.000-07:00

I've been blessed (or cursed) with the ability to remember my dreams pretty well. Tracy never remembers hers and I'm jealous. See, I started having nightmares, not just chased-by-monster types but worse. Sometimes they're anxiety dreams and those aren't so bad. Those are typical: you find yourself in high school again, but you can't remember your schedule or locker combination. You're late for class, you're lost in the halls, etc. Even my dad gets bad dreams that he's in college again and disoriented like that. Tracy says those show you have unresolved issues about school. I just think they're run-of-the-mill anxiety dreams, not indicating anything big. I told my friends even Rose in Rose is Rose gets those dreams. They were like, "Oh! Well, if a comic strip character gets them, then you're perfectly normal."

Anyway, the nightmares have to do with my depression from years ago. In these dreams I feel the same way exactly. I haven't had a depressive episode in years and I'd like to keep it that way, thank you, but these dreams are like time capsules. They're perfect reminders. Down to the last horrible detail. I'd say it feels like intense, self-directed anger. In my last nightmare I started hurting myself and when I woke up, I was scratching my forearm. Talk about a WTF moment. Maybe what triggered this was the movie I saw last night, where a lady tried to off herself. But it's not the first time I've had that type of dream. When I wake up in the morning, I'm really shaken and freaked out. It takes awhile to turn normal again and go about my day.

Tracy majored in psychology, and so did another reader of this site (ahem), so I wonder what their take would be. I think going to sleep is like opening a mailbox: usually there's just junk mail, but every now and then you get a huge bill or something and you panic.

What would Dorothy do? I should have a bracelet. She told me once how sorry she was I went through all that. She asked if I ever, you know, grieved over it. I was like, "No." Maybe the nightmares are telling me to finally deal with it. Now that I'm happy and stable, my unconscious mind thinks I'm ready. Stupid unconscious mind! Bring back the random dreams about flying over fields of tofu and carburators! (just kidding, that was from Dilbert)

Here's Tina: "Zzzz." Here's Me: "Sorry."

2006-05-20T19:54:00.000-07:00

If you hear the song "Hey Pretty," I think you'll agree that Poe has the sexiest voice ever. Wow.

Anyway.

I was going to write how increasingly creeped out I am by news stories on Iraq, e.g. the President's "a priori plans to invade Iraq," the lame attempt to convince us Saddam had something to do with 9/11, the fact that even the 9/11 Commission practiced "spin" and made bizarre omissions, etc. But nobody wants to read that, right?

What if you think something sinister's going on behind the scenes, but nobody's interested? Or what if you have this deep foreboding, but you feel small and helpless? What if you're obsessed with finding out the truth about everything - from stories in mass forwarded emails to the evening news, religion, your own cherished beliefs, history, urban legends, human origins, and so on?

In college I had some very postmodern professors. One in particular really wigged me out. He had me so confused that by the time I drove home from class, I wasn't sure that I was actually sitting in a car. Or checking the side mirrors, stopping at lights and so on. I felt like my grip on reality was slipping. That experience could have been fun, in the same way drug highs are fun (so I'm told, heh). But it was more scary than anything else.

But the bottom line is postmodernism contradicts itself. "There is no such thing as truth" is itself a truth claim: "It's true that truth does not exist." Well, bullshit. Take that, professor.

To use Carl Sagan's phrase I am "obsessed with reality." If truth were a person we'd be, like, married. I bet truth would be pretty hot. Smokin' hot, even. Oh jeez, when I start writing like this it's time to sign off.

Letdowns

2006-05-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

Borders' science section is lame! Last time I went to Borders I was overall disappointed, and it took me forever to find something worth buying. I went in looking for The Panda's Thumb by Stephen Gould, Lies We Live By by Carl Hausman and Astral Projection for Dummies by Shirley MacLaine (well, not so much the last one). So I should've found something, right? But it took ten years. In fact, I'm still there right now.

Speaking of disappointment, I went to Starbucks this morning and ordered the usual. That's a fat-free white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, because the fat-free milk and whipped cream cancel out each other, you see, making a nutritionally neutral drink just the way I like it. But do you know what the barista chick told me? They were out of white mocha! I know! It was like 8 in the morning! My head almost exploded. As a matter of fact, the sheer incongruity created enough force to tear a hole in the fabric of the space-time continuum, creating a vortex that everyone almost got sucked through! All because they didn't have my white chocolate mocha! (shudder) These are scary days my friend.

Patriotic Correctness and Taboo Questions

2006-05-14T09:59:00.000-07:00

There seem to be certain taboos in society lately. If you break them, you're labeled unpatriotic or, worse, liberal. I think of it as the "Sshh! The troops might hear you!" attitude. When you ask hard questions about the war, even angry questions (an anger I think is justified), some people have a knee-jerk reaction to stop you that second. It's the old belief that dissent is unAmerican, when you come right down to it. The line of thinking goes, you're questioning the reasons behind the Iraq invasion and casting doubt on the troops' presence. So you're undermining the morale of our brave fighting men and women! How dare you?

This unspoken attitude reminds me of an argument I had once with a very religious friend. She said if I wanted to find the truth, there was no need to read books written by non-Christians. I asked, "Why?" and she got an edge to her voice, saying only Christians had true wisdom. That was the most circular reasoning ever. Why shouldn't you look at other perspectives? Because only Christians are right. Why? Because only they have true wisdom. Why? Because they're Christians. 'Nuff said.

One reason I'm getting more interested in science is that, unlike in politics or religion, science welcomes questions. Scientists try to find the answers to questions, instead of shaming you for asking them in the first place. I like people who go on honest, open searches for truth. Anything else sets off my bullshit detector, which is getting more and more fine-tuned over the years.

Most Memorable Sex Scenes

2006-05-13T13:23:00.000-07:00

In this entry I'm playing to the crowd, because my sister Teen (the only confirmed Headless Barbie reader) likes bulleted lists. Also I think she'll find the topic more exciting than usual. So here it is, my list of the most memorable TV and movie sex scenes:

Funniest Sex Scene: Network (1976).

Faye Dunaway is extremely chatty. Earlier in the movie she tells someone what a bad lover she is, and after this scene you believe it. She talks all the way to his place, she talks while they get undressed, she talks while on top of him, she finishes 0.002 seconds into it and keeps right on talking! About TV journalism! That's not even remotely hot! Joe thought her mouth could've been occupied in much better ways.

Most Awkward Sex Scene for Viewer, i.e. Me: The Last Emperor (1987).

In 1987 I was about 11 and somehow wound up watching this with my parents. Yeah I know, tell me about it. So the Chinese emperor dude is kinky, right? So he's in bed with two or three giggling Chinese women. And I'm thinking, "Can you do that? But, but, there's more than one! Why aren't Mom and Dad making their disapproving comments? Why are they just sitting there watching? Shouldn't they cover my eyes or something? This is so weird!" I never forgot that intense awkwardness.

Most Awkward Sex Scene for Characters: The L Word, "Last Dance" (2006)

Okay, this happens to be a good series on Showtime, and watching it does not make you gay. Well, the studies are inconclusive at least. It's a sort of Sex and the City but with all women. Which is, you know, not that radical a change...fine, yes it is. Anyway, in this episode everyone reminisces about Dana who has (spoiler alert) just died, and Jenny says, "We once fooled around." They cut to the most uncomfortable quasi-sex scene of all time. I mean it's full of fumbling, apologizing, accidental head butting, just everything you don't want to happen. It is physically painful to watch. Finally they realize they've put us through enough: Dana and Jenny decide to hell with it, they'll just dance instead. What a relief. It was the type of scene where you alternate between laughing and cringing.

Grossest Sex Scene: Married To It (1991)

So you're making a movie, and the cast includes Cybill Shepherd, Robert Sean Leonard, Mary Stuart Masterson, Stockard Channing and Beau Bridges. These people make up various couples, right? Now, when you go to write a love scene, which couple would movie audiences most like to watch? Let me give you a hint: it's not Beau Bridges and Stockard Channing. No. No, no, no. Especially not since they're the hippie parents of the ensemble. Who wants to watch parents go at it? Eeew! Especially when their kids are knocking on the bedroom door! And they're like, "Just a minute" while banging away? Oh God, I'm retraumatizing myself!

Most Disturbing Sex Scenes: Cape Fear (1991) and Absolute Power (1997).

These two tie for the most disturbing, only because I've never seen a John Waters movie. Any movie of his would be an instant winner in this category. That man is sick. Two words: dying chicken. That's all I have to say. Sick, sick man. Anywho, I thought maybe these two shouldn't be on the list because they kind of go from consenting sex to nonconsenting violence. In Cape Fear, Ileana Douglas goes home with Robert De Niro, thinking she'll have a good time. She finds out otherwise. He does a Jeckyll-and-Hyde routine right when they're literally in bed. She winds up in the hospital, which is still better off than the woman in Absolute Power, who ends up dead when the sex gets too rough, and she tries to defend herself.

Ugh, how did I start out writing fluff and wind up here? Quick, happy bunny thoughts!

PS. Teen, I know this entry is too long for your taste. But come on! One request at a time!

Deep Thoughts

2006-05-07T06:37:00.000-07:00

TV: If you eat like commercials tell you to, you'll never look like the actors on the shows.
Laws: Prostitutes have sex for money, and they're breaking the law. Porn stars also have sex for money, but they're not breaking the law. How come?
Language: A diuretic makes you pee. An emetic makes you throw up. So what makes you take a dump? A laxative. I don't get it.

"Sunlight Is the Best Disinfectant"

2006-05-05T20:16:00.000-07:00

I never, ever thought I'd say this, but go, Sean Hannity! I just watched a clip from Hannity and Colmes (which is shocking in itself) where they both attacked a crazy woman from Fred Phelps' church. If you've never heard of Fred Phelps, well, count your blessings. He's the gay-bashing "pastor" who encourages his flock to picket funerals with signs like "Fags Burn in Hell" and "Thank God for AIDS." His equally crazy daughter tried to defend their church, while Hannity and Colmes took turns tongue-lashing her. She ranted on and on, proving herself even scarier than Carrie White's mom.

It's so rare for me to applaud Sean, I just had to write about it. But really what's true is true, no matter who says it. I'm not conceited enough to think everyone I disagree with is always wrong about everything. Nobody's wrong 100% of the time, or right 100% of the time. The only way to avoid mistakes is to have no opinions, claims, beliefs, etc. at all, and then I think you'd be dead.

The subject line is a quote from the show. That crazy lady reminded me of Holocaust deniers: let them all talk, I say. If you try to suppress them, it looks like you have something to hide. So you want to be open and expose their lies.

I swear, my sister will stop reading this blog if I don't get more exciting soon. It's just that the stuff I'm interested is usually boring to other people, and vice versa. In high school, I wrote in my journal that people couldn't talk about anything but the prom, which I didn't give a shit about. It's lonely being a nerd, ha ha.

Are You a Grownup Yet?

2006-04-28T19:21:00.000-07:00

So tonight Tracy and I checked out the new house our friends bought. They're a married couple Tracy's known for years. When your friends joke about huge mortgages, it dawns on you suddenly that these are adult topics and you might, in fact, be a grownup. But you don't feel like one. I'm almost 30 and I don't feel quite adult yet. What would it take? A few kids, my own mortgage, age spots, what?

I see George Clooney's talking about Darfur. The Onion has one of their typically funny-creepy articles on Darfur, and how the problem must've been solved because newsanchors don't cover it anymore. The doctors on ER go to Africa, like, every other episode. They finally gave the awesome actress Laura Innes something to do; she had surgery to walk normally and nobody even noticed. It was sadly fitting. (That's one of the shows I take way too seriously. See. I can't be trendy and watch Grey's Anatomy; I have to like the dinosaur ER.)

Earlier on I wanted to write about the veterans whose medical charts I work on. Nothing personal, of course (that would be illegal). Just that it makes me mad when I write about people hurt from Iraq. Not that anyone asked, but I think it's a humongous waste and this generation's Vietnam. Now people my age will be as fucked up as Vietnam vets. Physically, emotionally, the whole shebang.

One of the doctors commented about a veteran's experience in "Vietnam--er, Iraq," and I went, "Isn't that telling." I just can't let go of this anger. It doesn't change anything, it doesn't bring one soldier home or one civilian back to life. It only affects me. So speaking of waste, this whole issue is a waste of my mental energy. I'm helpless so I might as well forget about it. Sometimes you're probably better off numb.

"Says it feels right this time/Turned it 'round and found the right line/'Good day to be alive, sir/Good day to be alive,' he said/Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel/Was just a freight train coming your way..." Metallica

The NAACP vs. Bugs Bunny

2006-04-23T12:19:00.000-07:00

Well, my dear friend triforce83 hasn't written in his blog for eons. That could be a good sign, because his entries are all about women problems. You know what they say - no news is good news. Maybe his life settled down.

Yesterday we went to Great America. The best part was riding in the first car on the Viper, which totally rocked. The only ride I felt a little sick on was Superman, and the gross feeling didn't last long. At first we couldn't find my sister's group, but later we couldn't stop running into them.

Tracy and I are having a weird, lazy day. Her allergies make her tired so she falls asleep in front of the TV. All I can motivate myself to do is play on the computer.

I have the most random interests. Like this morning, I woke up and thought, "Why don't I make a cartoon flip book?" So I have a little drawing pad that I want to use, and a light box that makes it easier. Why that idea came to me, I don't know.

Speaking of animation (see how cleverly I segue here?), I've also been watching banned cartoons today. Again, I don't know what caused this sudden interest. But all day I've been downloading and watching old banned cartoons. Most of them are racist against blacks or the Japanese (one was a WWII Bugs Bunny cartoon where the villain was a scheming, buck-toothed "Jap"). I couldn't believe the Flintstones ad for Winston cigarettes. You find some wild stuff on the Internet. It makes me wonder what we have now that people will find shocking someday. It's so weird how people's sensibilities change over time.

Speaking of racism and changing mores (another clever segue! I kill me!), I'm also reading To Kill a Mockingbird - hey, maybe today hasn't been so lazy after all. Anyway, I'm at the good part toward the end, where the shit starts flying with the trial and all. It's a rare kind of book because it's a classic, yet not boring. It's like The Catcher in the Rye - the type you almost don't mind having to read in high school.

It's, like, the antithesis of The Great Gatsby. I have two lingering impressions of that. One, it's so boring you'd rather eat the book than read it. Two, some character gets her breast torn off when she's hit by a car. Oh, and her name was Myrtle. There. That just goes to show teens only care about sex and violence, or sexy violence. Whatever.

The Trials of Working from Home

2006-04-21T06:33:00.000-07:00

My former coworkers are jealous that I got a home-based transcription job. They act like saving hundreds of dollars in gas is so great. They think I'm at some kind of advantage because now I get an easy 8 hours' sleep a night. People seem to love the idea of never even meeting the boss.

Well, I have to set them straight because, believe me, working from home is not all it's cracked up to be. Just this morning, when I took off my slipper to turn on the computer with my toe, my foot got a chill! And I had to hurry up and put the slipper back on! See, it's time people learned these ugly truths.

As Shallow As I Wanna Be

2006-04-14T16:57:00.000-07:00

A recurring theme in my blog and life is my love/hate relationship with beauty, or the cultural definition anyway. On the one hand, I rant about the pressure to live up to impossible ideals (see earlier entry). On the other, nothing boosts your ego like seeing pictures of celebs in white trash mode a la Britney Spears. The other night I watched Black.White and was amazed they don't touch up the people's skin more. You could say acne breakouts are realistic or just kinda gross. Either way, you don't see much of that on TV. There was never a single zit in West Beverly High. They may have had every STD known to man, but pimples were not a problem.

Every so often, you have to indulge your catty side. We love to put celebrities on pedestals, but we also like to knock them off again. It's a guilty pleasure.

PS: J. K. Rowling has an awesome blog entry on this topic. Rock on!
PPS: If you need your own visual pick-me-up go to www.fluideffect.com. Check out the before and after gallery (hold down on the word Before). Also check out http://glennferon.com. It's like magic!

The Perils of Partisanship, or Another Entry to Bore Tina

2006-04-09T09:34:00.000-07:00

Lately I'm thinking of giving up on political labels altogether. My family calls me a Democrat (which is pretty much a put-down to them). I don't mind being in the minority, or even watching the Washington Democrats flail around helplessly. But I do mind the fact that having any label at all clouds my judgment, and the same goes for everyone else. As soon as you call yourself a Democrat, you're at odds with Republicans. Your ego gets involved. The same goes for any label. Call yourself a liberal, and automatically you oppose the conservatives around you. When you take any stand, you have instant enemies.

Then it's not so much the social tension that's a problem (although it's not fun when everyone disagrees with you). But it also interferes when you're trying to figure out the facts. You have blinders on. You minimize your side's mistakes and exaggerate the other side's. That's just human nature, protecting yourself and whatever you have a stake in, emotionally and socially.

So I'd rather be a neutral, impartial truth-seeker on everything from politics to religion to family arguments, etc.

But that seems wimpy somehow. I don't know. I'm ambivalent about labels. I'm even ambivalent about the label "ambivalent"! Come to think of it, I'm not sure I want to call myself Caucasian or female. Yeah! I'm a human being and it stops there! And what's all this about my being a 29-year-old? I transcend time! It's beneath me! I'm a metaphysical being with no color, gender, age, nationality, political affiliation, religion, sexual orientation, social class or hand dominance! There, that settles the label question once and for all.

I'm a trip! That's good, right?

2006-04-01T20:18:00.000-08:00

Around age eleven I found it strange that when kids on TV smarted off, the audience roared with laughter, but when real kids smarted off people called them brats.

As the youngest in my family I found two words totally anathema: baby and brat. They were the highest insults to me. The baby part is ironic, because now my homey be like "Yo baby, wassup" and I be all, "Yeah I'm yo baby, dawg."

Heh! Had you going, didn't I? Don't worry, it's still me with my King's English! Speaking of which, I felt so out of place when I worked in a factory where whites were in the minority. I talked in my anal way while they said stuff like, "Michelle, you a trip." Somebody actually said that to me. I took it as a compliment.

So I delivered food for Traverso's tonight (that's the Italian restaurant in Naperville, plug plug plug) and didn't make much but it went okay. Forty bucks is forty bucks, and more than I had before.

Now for something totally different: here's one of my theories. I think psychologists, counselors and mental health experts put too much emphasis on the art of giving love. They're all about teaching you how to love someone in your relationships. I think they should also talk more about the art of receiving love. That (and here's my theory) is also a skill, one that has to be learned just like giving love, or on a more prosaic level, cooking, riding a bike, etc. Have you ever tried to give someone a meaningful, heartfelt compliment and they just went, "Whatever"? Women especially don't always take compliments well. It's like you're trying to give them a gift, and they shove it away.

Some people believe deep down they're not lovable, so when you try to show them love they go all mental. It doesn't fit their image of themselves. You know what I mean? No, I'm really asking because I lost my train of thought completely: do you know what I mean? If so feel free to leave a comment, since nobody leaves me any damn comments. Oh, did that sound bitter? Good.

Not So Easy Rider

2006-03-29T17:47:00.000-08:00

At our movie night yesterday I showed Joe the ten pages of my book-in-progress. It gave me the same vulnerable feeling as when I first show somebody a drawing, especially one they paid me to do. I told him to critique it honestly.

The movie was Easy Rider and since I picked it, it had the obligatory tragic ending. Every movie I pick ends horribly. They keep teasing me about my depressing taste in movies but I can't help it; I unconsciously gravitate to the ones where everyone dies in the end. In fact I could probably rent a Disney movie and at the end, all the lovable furry woodland creatures would die in a forest fire. What can I say? It's a strange talent.

So anyway, the one good lesson from Easy Rider is Kids, Never Experiment With Hallucinogens. The main characters dropped LSD in a graveyard and the results were not pretty.

"Look At Us, We're Beautiful..."

2006-03-22T18:23:00.000-08:00

You wouldn't expect to find a Moby song so catchy. He doesn't seem like the type whose music is...accessible.

Anyway, I don't know a single woman who's completely comfortable with her weight. Maybe my friend Dr. Peterson is, but since she's barely a hundred pounds she doesn't count. Plus she's kind of eccentric (and I mean that lovingly), so she's probably immune to the bombardment of beauty messages. The woman is a church historian. Most people find church boring and history boring, so the combination would put them in a vegetative state. Dr. Peterson is in her own category. But I digress.

My friends and family will tell you I'm sort of obsessive. For example, last year I graphed out my slowly changing weight. Tracy found the chart and said, "That's not normal." The span of change was probably ten pounds, so it's not like I made dramatic changes (or needed to). For awhile Tracy forbade me to weigh myself, which I did compulsively like every day. There's no reason, I'm the first to say. No reason. I'm average weight, 144 lbs lately. But it always seems too much. When I was in high school I berated myself for the same reason, because at the time, 127 pounds seemed excessive.

Stupid, stupid waste of energy. I even point out to myself my own double standards: why do I think it's OK for Tracy to stay at her weight, or my grandma who was overweight, or whoever? Why are they fine the way they are when I'm not? When do you ever say, "Okay, I'm done, I'm good enough"? You never do, because you're on a treadmill and you never get anywhere.

This whole emphasis on beauty is such bullshit. Honestly, in so many words women are taught, "The greatest contribution you can make to society is to look beautiful." I hate it but I succumb to the messages like every teenage girl. I should know better. It's total crap and I hate the pressure.

The Post-World Hunger Post Post

2006-03-18T11:10:00.000-08:00

I didn't want to post after the last entry, because the issue of world hunger should not just be swept under the rug when we're ready to move onto another topic. It reminds me of those medical TV shows, where they cut to a commercial right after you've been agonizing about a kid with a deadly disease. You go from that to someone telling you to shop at Home Depot. It just feels wrong, like it trivializes the subject. But I still want to write on my blog so what can you do?

I think TV has a sort of reverse Midas touch where it trivializes everything. The late Neil Postman used to bitch about that incessantly. He gave one appalling example I still remember. Apparently Vidal Sasson had his own show for, like, five minutes. It was a talk show and Vidal once said something like, "We're going to deal with fashion topic X, but first, a quick look at incest."

Shudder.

Anyway, what I wanted to write about was my bummed out friend. I told Tracy I think he's depressed, but then I wonder if I just see depression in everyone because of my own history. It's kind of like the Onion article, "Area Stoner Convinced Everyone On TV Also Stoned." ("The other night, they had a rerun of Space Ghost when the guest was Beck, and he was so stoned. He had, like, a lampshade on his head, and he was all like, 'This is my space helmet' or some shit like that. I mean, he was stoned off his gourd. It was awesome. The Space Ghost guys must be so high, man. Especially Brak. Brak rules. He is, like, so wasted.")

Come to think of it, there have been lots of bummed people around lately, or at least their situations suck. In the past week I made two trips to hospitals to see laid-up acquaintances, one who'd had a stroke and carotid surgery, the other whose lung deflated. Jennifer has been a stress ball between her sick dad and the new house they just bought. My sister had a painful surgery, from what I heard. Everyone's falling apart! Even our dog Bailey needs her shots!

Whoa, this is too much. I need to go to Starbucks.

For Just Two Cents a Day...

2006-03-12T12:53:00.000-08:00

"Instances of discrepancy between belief and action in the moral sphere are legion: it is one thing to think it is 'wrong' that people are starving elsewhere in the world; it is another to find this as intolerable as one would if these people were one's friends. There may, in fact, be no ethical justification for all of us fortunate people to carry on with our business while other people starve... It may be that a clear view of the matter - that is, a clear view of the dynamics of our own happiness - would oblige us to work tirelessly to alleviate the hunger of every last stranger as though it were our own. On this account, how could one go to the movies and remain ethical? One couldn't. One would simply be taking a vacation from one's ethics."

Sam Harris, The End of Faith

In Christian circles, they have a term that applies to me here. They say the Holy Spirit "convicts" you when your conscience tells you something needs to change. I guess I have a stronger than usual sense of social injustice, because it bothers me again and again. But knowing what to do about it is something else completely.

Years ago I donated hundreds of dollars to various charities and church organizations. Their response was to sell my name and barrage me with requests for more money. I burnt out really fast, needless to say, and I'm even more suspicious of charities now.

Part of the reason I love The Onion is they point out the absurdities that come from this huge inequality in the world.

One story, "Woman Who 'Loves Brazil' Has Only Seen Four Square Miles of It," was about a middle-class American who vacationed in Brazil, stayed in a posh resort and remained oblivious to the poverty of most Brazilians.

Other funny-bitter articles are "US Pets' Healthcare Better than Rwandan Humans'"; "New Cambodian Barnes & Noble: Will It Threaten Cambodia's Small Book Shops?"; "Sudanese 14-Year-Old Has Midlife Crisis"; a Point-Counterpoint from a middle class American teen, "I Am So Starving," versus an African's "I Am So Starving" and the ever- popular "Open Letter to a Starving Child," which offers helpful advice: "What the heck are you doing living in Sri Lanka?..America is the land of milk and honey. You can catch a flight here for as little as $2,800... Since you're eating scraps from dumpsters, my guess is you could use a little shot in the arm when it comes to extra income... Have you considered seeking a position in carpet sales?"

Those are the kinds of jokes you laugh at but you're angry, too. Aside from giving money to charities again (which I'm not eager to do), I don't know how to deal with this frustration. It seems like these social classes and castes are permanent. The poor are pretty much screwed. Even Jesus said, "You will always have the poor with you." I can't just forget about it. But I don't know what to do.

Confessions of a Former Love-Starved Teen

2006-03-09T13:56:00.000-08:00

I became obsessed with one of my teachers. I remember one reason why, too. There I was going about my typically boring high school day. This teacher, I noticed, spent some time reading my journal (she taught Creative Writing). Later she told me in a one-on-one chat that I was "one of the most fascinating people [she'd] ever met." Now, I've never had any serious drugs but at that moment it felt like I just took a hit of ecstasy. I was instantly euphoric. It felt like the best drug rush of all time, because my day before had been just dull and gray, and then I found out how much the teacher I idolized respected me back. After that, I kept craving the same emotional high. But she never gave it to me again.

Every so often I revisit that time in my life, because it makes much more sense now. It's scary, but it makes sense.

I'd Like to Thank the Academy

2006-03-08T18:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I got a very exciting job offer. But instead of calling and telling Tracy right away, I squelched my excitement for hours. Timing is everything! She knows I've been trying to get this job after a lot of frustration.

So at the right moment once we were home, I turned to her and said in a cranky voice, "Guess what?...They filled the position." She went, "What? Oh no." I went on, "Yeah, I know! But what really gets me is, they filled it with me. I got the job." Then I started laughing.

She hit me.

I think, deep down, she secretly loves my sense of humor.

Why Am I Listening to a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Rap?

2006-03-05T18:01:00.000-08:00

If you're a single adult with no kids, your parents are secretly disappointed about it. That's my theory. I'm not angry or upset; I just feel like I finally put my finger on something that's bothered me for awhile. If you get together with your family, the little kids get most of the attention, followed by parents of the little kids, followed by you. I hesitate to even write that because it might sound bitter or pissy, which it is not. It's perfectly normal and expected. I'm just saying. You feel a little left out, as a childless, single adult.

Why, Oh Why Oh Why

2006-03-03T15:01:00.000-08:00

...do rock stars, celebrities, has-beens or even remotely famous people ever make sex tapes? Is there any reason at all? Do they think they'll never get sex again, so they have to preserve this one encounter forever? Don't they realize the kind of money to be made when their tape falls into the wrong hands? Stupid people, stupid! I don't feel sorry for one of you, not one! You're too dumb to live!

And speaking of idiotic, self-defeating behavior, why would any political pundit ever compare someone to Hitler? People, don't do it! For God's sake, it always backfires and you sound like a hysterical wing nut. I can list three reasons, right off the top of my head, why all Holocaust/Hitler/Nazi references should be banned for eternity:

1. The comparisons are inaccurate. Come on, I hate Bush as much as the next person. But I would never compare him to Hitler. Why? Because he is not like Hitler. Der Fuerher's evil was way beyond compare.

2. The analogies are too inflammatory. They're the rhetorical version of burning the flag: they produce gut reactions, cutting right to your emotions and bypassing your brain. People have knee-jerk, thoughtless responses. Do you really want that? Do you? Huh? Do you?

3. They're counterproductive. There are so many stories about professors, teachers, etc. causing a stink when they compare America to Nazi Germany, the people in the World Trade Center to "little Eichmanns," Bush to Hitler, etc. No, you stupid asshats! Stop it! You might as well wear signs that say Every Conservative Stereotype is True, We Hate America, We Kick Puppies and Beat Up Grandmothers. You're all playing right into Sean Hannity's hands!

God, why are people so dumb? Why can't they be more like me?

Music and Religion, or, All Roads Lead to Religion In My Blog

2006-02-25T20:31:00.000-08:00

Morpheus is wonderful, I have to say. Not only is it a great program, but the whole concept of file sharing when it comes to music is kickass. Songs I haven't heard in years! Right there available to me in minutes, if that! Granted, some are my searches are pretty obscure (I can't find one called "Innocent Child" by Colorhaus and wonder if it was all my hallucination). So on those I'm out of luck.But really, programs like Morpheus are just one more way the Internet spoils me. How did I ever live without it?

Certain songs I downloaded require explanation. I mean, most people don't rush to get Sandi Patti or "Kids' Praise" music from 20 years ago. But these have nostalgic value, especially the Kids' Praise. I listened to one song and almost stopped because it was so painful. When I was lonely as a kid (which wasn't uncommon), I found faith very comforting. So the music had a lot of meaning. Now with everything I've been through, I hear that old song and it's bittersweet.

My sister and I emailed each other about this (taking comfort in faith). I wrote in so many words, "A belief might be reassuring without necessarily being true." But if I could go back, I'd never take away some of my earlier beliefs. They were like lifelines.

Maybe some nontheists want to destroy people's faith, running around like anti-evangelists and debunking everything. But not me. You should never take away a false hope with no true hope in its place.

It's like Sam Harris wrote in his awesome book The End of Faith:

"There is no denying that most of us have emotional and spiritual needs that are now addressed - however obliquely and at a terrible price - by mainstream religion. And these are needs that a mere understanding of our world, scientific or otherwise, will never fulfill. There is clearly a sacred dimension to our existence, and coming to terms with it could well be the highest purpose of human life. But we will find that it requires no faith in untestable propositions - Jesus was born of a virgin; the Koran is the word of God - for us to do this." Preach it, brother! Word up! Or something.

Oh, the Pain

2006-02-19T09:19:00.000-08:00

Tracy and I were talking about bunion surgery because we both have bunions, and mine hurt more lately. Before getting them I didn't know about bunions and assumed they were fleshy, wart-like growths that probably sprouted hairs or something gross like that. Then I lfound out they're not so much flesh, more bone.

I learned from podiatrist visits that surgery is a lot more complicated than you'd think. They don't just chop off the bony part. They have to rearrange your entire foot, sometimes (as Tracy said) cutting off and reattaching your big toe. Her brother had a corn removed and it was excruciating. And that was just a corn. So I think my bunions are here for life. Lucky me.

I wouldn't want to go through weeks of recovery because I'm a wuss about physical pain. This morning I had cramps and wished I could gut myself of all my female innards. Everybody dislikes pain, but my body told me today very specifically that it has a special, unique aversion to it.

Like Daffy Duck said, "I can't stand pain. It hurts me." That sounds pretty obvious until your body spells it out for you loud and clear. Then you're like, "Oh. It's extremely important to avoid pain. Extremely, you say. Okay, got it. What? Yes, I understand. Oh yes, crystal clear. No, no, I won't forget."