Things I Miss Friday - Electric Youth

The other day at work, I walked past a young woman in the ladies' room and was overcome by a strongly familiar but not immediately recognizable scent.  As I continued walking, I searched the recesses of my brain's olfactory memory boxes and suddenly it dawned on me: Electric Youth!

I swear to you, I believe she was wearing this perfume.  I have to believe that because why else would my brain dredge up this scent memory?  It's not like I've thought about this perfume recently - although, however, I have been humming the song since the day I smelled it.

These days, everyone has a perfume: Britney Spears, Beyonce, Shania Twain, P. Diddy (Sean John), Celine Dion, Jennifer Lopez.  But how many of theirs are based on hit pop songs?  I did a quick check and I can find none.  They're the equivalent of a movie written specifically to make someone into a star.  These aren't inspired perfumes, oh no.  They stand on their own without a song to back them up.

Electric youth, feel the power You see the energy comin' up, coming on strong The future only belongs to the future itself And the future is electric youth It's true you can't fight it, live by it The next generation, it's electric

The future only belongs to the future itself.  Whoa.  Deep... and very pretty smelling. The perfume did remind me of youth.  It smelled sweet and earnest, not like it was trying too hard or trying to be sexy at all.  It said, "Hey, boy, I hope you notice me" not "I'm half naked, wanna come home with me?" like most tween-intended products seem to say these days.  It made me wish that I had saved some of mine, but how could I have known that something like this would seem so precious and fleeting later on.

A woman's life through her clothes

16. Read 30 books I haven't read before. (11/30)

Love, Loss, and What I Wore
written and illustrated by Ilene Beckerman

This is a truly charming little book. Ms. Beckerman traces her life from the 1940s to the present through her clothing, from her Brownie uniform to the clothes her granddaughter plays dress-up in. There is something so magical about women's clothing from the 40s and 50s; her descriptions are absolutely enthralling (if you're interested in the history of women's fashion). She talks about her t-strap shoes and Revlon nail polish, her crinoline and her 70s pantsuit.

This book made me wish I had such a personal relationship with my clothing (her mother made most of her clothing when she was a child) and I couldn't help but think about how we are now so removed from the clothing we buy (just like we're so removed from the food and other necessities we buy). I borrowed this book from the library and read it while I did laundry at the laundromat tonight - and I only needed half the time at the laundromat to read it. It's definitely the sort of book you read and the re-read slowly, perhaps not even in order, finding your favorite outfits again and letting them spur you on to remembering some of your favorite outfits and where you were and what happened when you wore them.

MeMe me me meeeee . . . Award!

The lovely Lori at I Can Grow People has bestowed a MeMe Award upon me.  What is a MeMe?  (Other than a really fun thing to say over and over again, pretending that you're an opera singer warming up at the Met?)

Basically, I have to share seven things with my readers that they (you!) don't know about me and then choose seven of my readers to pass the MeMe Award onto. Let me tell you, this is harder than it seems!  I'm a pretty open person, so there isn't a lot that I'm hiding (and what I'm hiding, I'm hiding for good reason!).  I've spent the past two days trying to think of things that I haven't mentioned before AND are even slightly, remotely interesting.  It's harder than it first seems, but here goes!

1. I have a wretched memory.  There probably isn't a day that goes by that my husband doesn't pick on me for this.  I don't remember anything before I was five years old and don't have solid, great memories until age ten or so.  Beyond that, I don't remember recent things, either.  I like to chalk this up to space conservation; I remember what is important to me.  I like to point out to my husband that he may remember taking apart and reassembling his mother's toaster at age 3, yet he doesn't remember to pick up his socks on a daily basis.  I'd rather pick up my laundry than remember my toddler years.

2. I sort of proposed to my husband before he proposed to me.  We had discussed getting engaged/married but I was still gun-shy about the whole she-bang.  But one day at lunch I told him that I believed we should get married.  After lunch we went and picked out a ring together, which he then took home and proposed to me with two weeks later - longest two weeks EVER!  (Especially the whole "pretending I didn't know about it" to my family part.)

3. Pregnancy grosses me out.  I successfully avoided touching any pregnant bellies until my sister-in-law forced me to touch hers last year.  Just thinking about it makes me want to gag.  I recognize that the creation of life is pretty amazing and the whole process is kind of like a fun science experiment; I just wish I didn't have to be the petri dish.  (No, I'm not pregnant and, no, we're not trying yet.  I'm just surrounded by pregnant women and infants lately so it's always on my mind.)  It doesn't help that....

4. I am a mommy blog addict.  I religiously follow Momversation and a bunch of mommy bloggers, most notably Girls Gone Child (the amazing Rebecca Woolf - yes, I'm still obsessed), Dooce, and Mighty Girl.  Between them and the experiences of my real-life friends and relatives with babies, I have to seriously bite my tongue sometimes around moms because I want to offer my opinion on baby-raising, but feel unqualified to because I'm not actually a mom - just an aunt and avid reader.  I try to take my mommy blog knowledge and use it to make myself a more understanding friend to my mom friends.  Hopefully someday it also helps make me a good mom.

5. I feel like I've lost my personal style.  I think I had more style before my gastric bypass than I do now because now I'm sad about how I look, whereas then it was just a fact of my life that hadn't ever been any different.  I was developing a fun style, I think, when I was thin but then I started gaining weight and it all ended.  I actually feel now like one of those people who's given up, something I'd never guess of myself.  I don't have the money to go out and buy anything, much less all the things it would take for me to feel better about how I put myself together every day, so I'm doing a lot of thinking lately about how I can turn this situation around.

6. You do not want to have anything to do with me if I have not had my morning coffee.  Seriously.  The hubby even bought me a sticker for my car that says, "Give me coffee and no one gets hurt."

7. My graduate thesis was on Harry Potter.  I figured that if I was going to write a 60 page paper, it was going to be on something I didn't mind living and breathing day in and day out for a whole semester.  Long story (paper) short, the argument in it is that many of Harry's decisions and actions are subconsciously based on his orphan status and how he's always looking to recreate the family he lost, even sometimes to the detriment of the other characters.

Ta-da!  Don't you feel so informed now?  And now it is time for me to pass on the MeMe Award to seven blogger readers I'd love to hear more from and think you should check out:

1. "D" at Delightfully Sweet - One of the best home chef/bakers I know.  I really envy her kitchen abilities and absolutely love her food photography.

2. Amy at My Right To Dream - One of my dearest friends and a constant source of inspiration, comfort, and humor.  One of the most giving and accepting people I have ever met.

3. Erin at Thirty-Something - I love Erin's blog because everything she writes about is so interesting and her voice is so clear.  I really feel like she puts her own self out there in her writing, but without ever over-sharing or being boring.  Her concerns (family, career, home, life) are all so close to my own, so perhaps I'm a bit biased.

4. Tara at Tara SG's 101 Mission - I love her 101 list.  She's always writing about and linking to great books, places, recipes, etc.  I particularly enjoy her goal of learning new French words and idioms.

5. Teanna at Spork or Foon - Is that not one of the best food blog titles?  She makes great food look easy AND beautiful.

Numbers 6 and 7.... could be YOU!  While I seem to get the same number of readers daily, with occasional spikes seemingly based on content or random events in the universe, I don't get a lot of comments (as much as I'd love many, many comments). So I throw this out to you, dear reader - take this MeMe Award and bestow it upon yourself!  I say that you can!  My only request is that if you do so based on this post, that you put a link to my blog in it so that it pings back and I can find the post.  Fair deal, right?  If you do this, I'll repost your link as #6 or #7.  :)

All together now: Meme me me me me meeeeeeee!  *glass cracks*  (Anyone else watch that episode of Mythbusters?)

Is this really who we are?

1. Today, on the way to work, I passed a school bus that had a hanging tag in the back window saying that the bus had been checked for sleeping children. Seriously?  We need to proclaim that we did this?  Don't all bus drivers check their bus before getting off or driving somewhere?

2. At 2:26am I received a text message that my best friend's wife's water broke.  I've finally come to terms with the fact that most of my friends are/are getting married (including the fact that I'm married).  Now we're becoming parents?  I have plenty of acquaintances and pseudo-friends who are parents, but no one as close to me as this person - and now he's going to be a dad.  I cried on the way to work today, just thinking about it (tears of joy). They live out of state, but I'm going to be in their area tomorrow and Saturday so I'm hoping she has the baby before I head back home so I can meet the little gal.

3. My job allows no casual wear, ever.  No Casual Fridays, etc.  But today is a half-day and the last day before a full three-day weekend (a total rarity here), so I'm wearing jeans.  So there, take that. I'm a rebel, that's who I really am.  (Okay, really, I'm really not.  But sometimes I wear the pants.)

Leave it and love yourself

Pouch test bonus: I lost 4.4lbs last week, yay! This puts me 1/3 of the way toward my first short term goal: to lose the approximately 15 lbs I've put on since autumn.  Nine pounds to go and then I'll set a new short term goal.  I totally believe it's helpful and great to celebrate small milestones along the way.

So what now?  Well, I'm continuing with a modified version of the plan.  I think I'm going to keep eating mainly light soups on Mondays and Tuesdays as a way to get me on track for the week.  For today I've made Hungry Girl's V10 soup (like V8 but way more veggies and lighter).  I'm already feeling a bit of snack anxiety (as in I don't have something to snack on, some crunchy little things to nibble throughout the day) but I know that that's one of my major problems and something I'm going to constantly battle, and if some super veggie soup is what's going to get me through today, then that's it.  I did put a 100 calorie pack of almonds in my bag, though, in case I'm not full enough from the soup and get lightheaded and can't concentrate at work.

The (my) relationship with food is so complicated that I just purely hate it (the relationship) sometimes.  There's an interesting article in The Daily Beast today about Disinhibited-Eating Disorder, which they describe as:

As a group, disinhibited eaters are people who are unusually tied into the world around them and, when it comes to food, are more vulnerable to the everyday temptations of the high-fat, high-calorie goodies that surround us than those lucky folks to whom a full table is just a full table . . . For these people, more than other folks, learning how to deal with our toxic food environment makes a world of difference. And by this, I mean learning how to comfortably control it rather than engage in futile battles of willpower with it. If you’re someone who tends to eat just because there is food for the taking, even if you’re not the least bit hungry, read on.

Seriously?  This is SO normal for me that I had to read it several times because I was looking for the part that stood out as the problem.  Obviously I know what the problem is, but what I mean is that it's like reading the definition for schizophrenia and going, "Oh, hearing voices - yeah, that's a big sign of bad things going on."  I read this and went, "Oh.  Right.  Um, that's just daily life." Their solution: surround yourself with a personal microenvironment that decreases opportunities for disinhibition and creates a hunger-free, more-satisfied metabolism. This is exactly what I'm trying to do.  Of course, we all have to live in the real world and work to control ourselves when out in the buffet that is that real world, but a huge part of my life is home and work - two places I do have some (although not total) control over. They go on to suggest six rules for helping keep control (I highly suggest reading the article).

As I mentioned before, my good friend My Right To Dream recently underwent gastric sleeve surgery, a type of weight loss surgery (a bit different from the gastric bypass I had) and she's having a hard time with the first week of recovery, which is significantly physically painful sometimes.  As she talks about it, I remember those times - but when asked before, I couldn't recall much of it because the mental workings of breaking up and reuniting with food was so much bigger for me.  Going into the surgery, I had no idea that I had eating issues.  I feel dumb about that now, but I just really didn't know. I don't need to be a size 10 (though a 12 would be nice).  I don't need compliments on how I look or what a good job I'm doing losing weight (from people who just see any diet as a good thing because they've been conditioned - I do appreciate the comments from the people who know how hard and what a complicated process it is).  I don't want to turn heads.  I'm not a fan of attention, really.  I just want to be happy with me.

Last night I watched the first four episodes of My So-Called Life with Delightfully Sweet.  The show was my first "Things I Miss Friday" item and I can barely describe just how influential it was and still is on me.  For me, that show is magical and I would give anything to have that same team create a new show today.  The closing voice-over of the fourth episode (which I also quoted in that first Things I Miss Friday) speaks to me today just as much as it did when I was 19:

Sometimes it seems like we're all living in some kind of prison. And the crime is how much we hate ourselves. It's good to get really dressed up once in a while. And admit the truth: that when you really look closely? People are so strange and so complicated that they're actually... beautiful. Possibly even me.

Things I Miss Friday - King of Pop edition

Today's "Things I Miss Friday" is both easy and difficult.  Easy because the subject is almost a given, but difficult because it's a controversial given. Kendra from Pop Trash Radio put it this way: "The Michael Jackson I loved died a long time ago in my opinion.  This still makes me somewhat sad."  I believe there are a lot of people that feel that way today, and I am one of them. 

His life and significance are a bit difficult to parse, but so far I see people falling in three camps: 1) those who can only make pedophile jokes today; 2) those who only talk about his great achievements in music; and 3) those who recognize his achievements but also recognize his personal difficulties.  #1 and #2 are laypeople.  I've only seen #3 in newscasters so far.  I believe the #3 is really the only way to go.

How do we give credit to an alleged pedophile for anything he accomplished?  I have always firmly believed that people who commit such heinous crimes are genetically programmed for that sort of behavior.  However, I read something yesterday that I think is an even better description: genetics loads the gun but environment pulls the trigger.  What would have become of this boy genius had there been someone in his life with some knowledge about the special needs and concerns of child stars and the dangers of celebrity?  The abuse of Jackson's childhood is fairly well-documented and not really disputed.  That already creates a particular type of sensitive and possibly troubled child.  Put that child in a fishbowl and continue to have him work in an industry where both your employers and fans fawn over you and it's a recipe for destruction.

I'm not sure we'll see anything quite like Jackson's level of fame for a long time to come.  We are already a much more jaded society and would scrutinize someone similar so much earlier.  For all of his own personal failures and destructive problems, we must hold ourselves partly accountable.  As I stated recently with the Jon & Kate phenomenon, we love to lift people up and then watch with joy as they crumble and fall, all the while still partaking of whatever entertainment it is they provide us (for Jackson, the music).  If genetics loads the gun, then fame and the public's habit of lifting up and tearing down bought the gun, the ammunition, taught him how to shoot, and then pulled the trigger.

This level of fame will also be hard to reach again because Jackson was a rare talent; I don't believe that can be denied.  To Gen Y or the Millenials, it may be hard to believe, but MTV used to be kind of revolutionary.  They had a sort of punk rock attitude when they started and were very much giving the finger to the traditional music industry and cable programming.  They were navigating only semi-charted waters.  However, they didn't play videos by black artists.  It's such an odd feeling for me to think how in my lifetime this was even possible - how segregated the music industry still was during my childhood. However, Michael Jackson changed that.  His music was so good and so broad in its influence that MTV had no choice but to show him.  To do otherwise would have been the equivalent of making people sit in the back of the bus.  With millions of Americans of every race and background buying Jackson's albums, it only made sense that they show his videos.

And then, we can't ignore those videos.  I can't imagine what the world of music videos would look like if it weren't for Michael Jackson.  Maybe the Gen Y/Millennial folks have no idea, but he truly was a visionary.  As the footage rolled on every cable news network yesterday, my brain kept flashing with even more videos (because, of course, the news mainly showed clips of the Jackson 5 and "Thriller").  If you really want to see how amazing he was, watch those early Jackson 5 clips.  He is the standout and nearly mesmerizing to watch. But what about "Smooth Criminal", "Bad", "The Way You Make Me Feel", "Rock With You", "Beat It", "Dirty Diana", "Black or White", and a hundred more.  Who doesn't recognize the lit sidewalk in "Billie Jean"?  Who hasn't seen (and tried) the Moonwalk?  (And that was before the internet - imagine today what would have happened with that moment.)  What about "Scream", with his sister Janet - when they had to actually show some people they weren't the same person.  What about Say Say Say, with Paul McCartney?  How sad that they had that terrible falling out (I'm wondering if Sir Paul will release a statement.)  What about "Man in the Mirror" and "Leave Me Alone, which let us in to a bit of his troubles.  Do you remember "Remember the Time" with Eddie Murphy as an Egyptian king and Iman as his queen?  Because of his extreme amounts of money, he could afford the best special effects available, often before the ordinary public had any idea something like that existed.  I think videos like "Black or White" and "Remember the Time" out-do the late 90s/early 00s Star Wars films.

And then there's "We Are The World."  Sure, there have been other similar projects, but that one stands out - I think everyone owned a "USA for Africa" t-shirt.  I vividly remember standing on stage for one of my fifth grade school recitals and singing that song and how the audience of parents and teachers joined in at the chorus.  Who could pull together that array of celebrities and musicians today without it turning into a horrendous ego-fest AND accomplish a beautiful piece of music that also worked to bring a world problem to light?  I am at a loss to think of anyone who could achieve that today.

People will be tempted to look at him as a divided human being: in one part, an extraordinary artist who has made lasting contributions to the world of music, art, and charity.  And the other part, a troubled and possibly sick human being who allegedly molested young boys and was an all-around weirdo: a pet chimp, a home amusement park, an obsession with Peter Pan, the skin lightening, the plastic surgery.  However, I insist we must work to recognize that this is all the same human being and that this is all intertwined. Artists are often troubled people. 

One scientist found that 20% of poets commit suicide, compared to 4% of other professions, and poets have nowhere near the fame Jackson did.  He was troubled because he was great and because his greatness thrust him into a life and lifestyle that was more than he could manage.  I find it utterly disturbing that he was preparing for a huge tour when, clearly, he had to have been significantly troubled and in poor health.  Shame on his handlers. I have yet to see that side of this mentioned; I hope someone picks up on it and starts asking questions.  Anna Nicole Smith's handlers are being held accountable for their role in her death; his should be, as well.

But that brings me back to us - the video-watching, album/MP3-buying, tabloid magazine reading public.  We are complicit as well.  Nothing grabs our attention more than when a side show takes the main stage. Well now, Mr. Jackson has left the building and it's time for us to find a new show.  Let's try not to destroy the next one, but instead let's work to treasure our artists; we can lift up their work while keeping the person grounded.  We're in this together.  We are the world. I do not believe in an afterlife, but I do believe that there is peace to be had today, both for the people who were troubled by Jackson (the boys, their families, his handlers) and for Jackson himself. I think it's worth taking some time to reflect on all of this.  But I hope it's also possible to take some time to just enjoy some of Jackson's work on the YouTube Michael Jackson channel.  Remember the time.

I'm pretty sure there will be a memorial service for Jackson.  I think what they should try to do is reunite everyone from "We Are the World" and have them sing that in tribute.  It's sad to think how most of them outlived him, but it would remember the best of his life and the best of his work and would be an amazing show of support.  I can dream.

Edited to add: If you want to read similar, much more concise thoughts on this from a far better writer, check out Andrew Sullivan's post on The Daily Dish.  He's got it right.

7 Quick Tuesday Takes

1. I'm still really upset by the flippant and hate-filled responses to Jon & Kate.  Maybe it's naive, but I think you can sign up to be on a television show and not expect this sort of media treatment.  Who's following the Duggars around? Anyone?  Which paparazzi are camped outside The Little Couple's home?  Hmm?  Only some people get subjected to this level of scrutiny and, frankly, harassment.  They did not ask for this or bring it upon themselves.  Why don't we have paparazzi laws?  Why is it fair for adult men with cameras to stalk five-year-olds?  Disgusting.

2. Day two of the 5 Day Pouch Test is going well so far.  My only off-plan eating yesterday was a cup of yogurt and a 1 oz. piece of cheese.  So, okay, no off-plan eating would be optimal but I'm still proud of myself.  Hunger is not an emergency.

3. I think your child is adorable, but I don't need to see 85 photos from any family event.  Can you choose maybe 5 of them if you're sending them via email?  Or post an album on Facebook so I can skim through them.

4. I got a FB messages from my ex-work husband yesterday.  It wasn't quite perfunctory, but mainly a research assistance request with a few personal questions thrown in.  I miss my grad school friends.  I miss being around people who read literature and watch the (non-Fox) news and have the skills that go along with a liberal arts education.  I'm looking forward to my new grad classes this fall.  My previous grad classmates set a pretty high bar, though - I hope my new ones are up to snuff.

5. Email is an affliction.  Do any of us really need THAT much email?  I wish the cc option was never invented.  Little by little, I'm unsubscribing from a bunch of mailing lists.  I'd rather just get real emails from people I care to hear from.

6. Yesterday's diary of a food addict post got as many hits alone as I usually get in a day.  This makes me wonder about the interest in food addiction (which I believe is under-represented and misrepresented in the media).

7. My husband's answer to all irritants is "Can I build a flamethrower?"  Today I finally agreed, but only so I can be charred to a crisp, like a snack.  I would be a Combo - crunchy on the outside and soft cheese on the inside (because, really, with all the cheese I eat, I am probably just cheese inside).  What's better than carbs outside and cheese inside?  (Combos, raviolis, manicotti, wontons, quesadillas - I could just go on and on.)  Man, I am a carb addict.

What's your favorite carb outside/cheese inside food?

Purpose - it's the fire under your ass.

Purpose. It's that little flame that lights a fire under your ass. Ha! Purpose. It keeps you going strong like a car with a full tank of gas. Everyone else has a purpose, so what's mine?

(Any Avenue Q fans out there?  Luuurve that show.) My dear friend Amy over at My Right To Dream is having gastric sleeve surgery today, which is a form of weight loss surgery (wls).  As I've mentioned before, I had gastric bypass surgery and, a year and a half later, corrective plastic surgery to remove loose skin (abdominoplasty) and complete a breast reduction/lift (most wls patients bemoan the loss of their boobs - nope, not me - I still had DDs, even after losing over a hundred pounds, lucky me). As can be expected with any major surgery, especially a life-changing one that someone is undergoing by choice, Amy is incredibly nervous and a bit scared.  WLS involves such a roller coaster of emotions - joy at being approved, depression and guilt and sadness and anger about needing the surgery in the first place, fear of failure, fear of success (because it changes everything in your life), and so much more.

I was at my lowest weight in September 2005, following my plastic surgery.  In the nearly four years since then, I have gained about 18 pounds per year, which I shouldn't have to point out is NOT GOOD.  Really not good.  Not good for anyone, but especially not good if you've had WLS.  This means you are defeating the surgery and "the tool" (i.e. the stomach pouch).  I got a scope done early last year to see if I had stretched out my pouch and it turned out that my pouch was perfect BUT that my stoma (the opening between my pouch and my intestines) had stretched and so food moved really quickly from my pouch into my intestines, leaving me hungry more quickly than it should.  In a fully working pouch, the food sits in there for a long time so you feel full for a while.  Immediately post-op, the stoma is the size of a pencil eraser.  I don't know how big mine is now, but it's definitely not small and apparently I would be eligible for stoma revision surgery, but that would involve doctors and bills and insurance approvals, blah blah blah.  I can't afford a dime of it right now if it's not covered 100%, so I haven't followed up on it. 

Instead, I'm going to work on this on my own. Amy's surgery today has lit a fire under my ass.  I was supposed to be a good example.  I was supposed to be a success story.  I was not supposed to become a raging snack addict.  I was not supposed to regain OVER SEVENTY POUNDS.  I'm not supposed to feel sad that my husband met me at my thinnest and most athletic and now has to live with a wife who continually gains weight, which makes her unhappy.  He continues to support me at any size and does not/would not care if I stayed my current size for life, but my unhappiness upsets and concerns him.

I spent over an hour on the phone with Amy yesterday, trying to calm her fears and reassure her that this will be wonderful.  One of the main points I wanted to make was that everything she'll go through is valid; all of her feelings and emotions and reactions are valid.  If she's mad that her husband can eat half a pizza and not care, that's fair.  It's not fair that some of us have to work better at maintaining a healthy lifestyle than others and it's fair to say that.  All's fair in food and weight.  I was told that it was "stupid" to miss food or pigging out and that people with food addictions had the real problems and that anyone who cried over missing food was laughable - so I cried in secret and became ashamed.  I know this is a part of my current food issues.

After my plastic surgery, my mother bought me a bracelet to commemorate the occasion (my apologies for the cheesy camera phone pic):

The idea was that the engraved dates are my birthday and my rebirthdays.  My WLS and plastics dates were my rebirth.  It was almost like a do-over.  I got to be me again (or, really, for the first time) - the me that I thought I could be but felt I couldn't be because of my weight. I haven't been able to wear the bracelet for a long time because I was ashamed of no longer meeting the criteria that the bracelet represented.  When I took it out today, it was tarnished because I haven't worn it or even touched it for so long.  So I buffed and polished it and put it on my wrist.  There are spots of tarnish I couldn't buff out, but that's okay.  I have spots of tarnish I will never buff out. 

This bracelet represents my goal.  I need to get back to the me of those rebirthdays.  I will continue to wear the bracelet as a reminder of what I am trying to achieve for myself. So today I have started the 5 Day Pouch Test.  So far today I had a coffee protein shake for breakfast (minus the cocoa because I didn't have any at home), a yogurt (which is off-plan but I didn't want it to go to waste), and am about to dig into some lentil and barley soup for lunch.. which I will also have as a snack... and as dinner... and repeat tomorrow.  So far I'm feeling okay, though.  No snacking anxiety yet (although that always tends to come later in the day) and really not any hunger pangs, surprisingly.  They suggest you cut caffeine, but can have one cup if cutting it completely will throw you into withdrawal, so I put one cup of coffee in my shake this morning.  There was no way I was going without coffee.  But other than that, I have just been sip-sip-sipping my water and I'm even going back to the "no drinking 30 minutes before or after meals" post-op rule.  If one of my problems is an open stoma that lets food slide through easily, then I need to make sure I don't make my meals into a slurry that leaves me hungry soon thereafter.  Not drinking while I eat is really difficult for me, and will be since I made my soup really spicy (I didn't have all of the spices the recipe called for so I just winged it and I think I over chili peppered it).  I'm also trying to eat more mindfully - slowly, thinking about what I'm eating.  My whole life, I've read while I ate and now I often watch TV and/or read online while I eat, so I'm not paying attention to how much I eat or how it tastes or, probably, when I'm full.  I've been living in fear of food and I can't do it any longer. So my purpose is to help Amy succeed and to drag myself back on the road to success.  My failures can be some of her keys to success.  I can take all that I've learned and help my dear friend avoid the same mistakes.  My failure will not be for nothing.  I can help her and I can help myself not do it all again.

I don't know how I know, but I'm gonna find my purpose. I don't know where I'm gonna look, but I'm gonna find my purpose.

Things I Miss Friday

Inspired by my previous post on my current love for podcasts, I got to thinking about my first foray into choosing my own radio programming: the light purple AM/FM radio my parents bought for me when I was ten.  It didn't have a tape deck, so I just listened to the radio (Top 40, of course). I tried to find a picture of this radio, but I can't.  It probably cost $15 at Shoprite or something. 

I have one picture in which you can see half the radio, but I can't post it because then you'll also see: *my mid-80s permed hair *my mid-80s plastic glasses *my bright red bedroom *my Bop and Tiger Beat posters *my red corduroy pants So, no.  I have terrible nightmares of someone taking that picture and forwarding it all over the intarwebs so that I become a worldwide laughingstock.  No thanks.  When I write a book about myself or my family, I promise to put it in the middle section with all the pictures.

For now, I'm thinking about my little purple radio and when I started learning what kind of music I liked and how that whole time is when you really start forging your own identity.  So what if my identity was built on Madonna and Wham?  I <3 80s music.

They're not haters, actually - you might just not be all that.

Source: flickr.com/photos/lunchbreath

Every morning, I check the same websites: my email, LiveJournal, Wordpress, Google Reader, The Daily Beast, and Huffington Post.  I skim through, reading bits here and there, and often full articles if I have the time and inclination (I would love to read more full articles, but it's just not always possible).

Well, there was a really interesting piece posted on The Daily Beast on Sunday titled "Do Narcissists Have Better Sex?"  The thrust of the article is that we have created a generation of narcissists (we're looking at you Gen Y/Millenials) thanks to all the "Don't let anyone tell you you're wrong" "You can do anything you want" parenting and pop culture incentives that have happened over the past two decades or so.  This has lead to a whole generation of people who feel entitled to feel good about themselves at all times and who believe that anyone who tries to intimate that they might, just might, have things they might want to work on is a hater and the sort of person who likes to make other people feel terrible, just for sport.

I often read articles that I semi-agree or semi-disagree with, but every now and again I go, "Yes!  This!  Exactly this!"  This is one of those times.  I think the article's author, Hanna Seligson, has hit a very big nail right on its shiny, glaring head.  There might be a sentence or two that I take issue with, but I agree with her overall idea and postulations. I have been frustrated by this phenomenon but her article was able to put it into words in a way that I have found myself unable to do. 

It started back in 2003 when I was planning my sister's bridal shower and had an unpleasant run-in with one of the bridesmaids, a particularly bitchy and narcissistic blonde who accused me of overcharging them for the room rental so that I could make a profit on the shower (meanwhile, I had easily covered $1000 worth of expenses that they didn't contribute to).  What proceeded was a particularly nasty back-and-forth over email, during which I wrote things that I never believed I could actually say, especially to someone directly, and have since promised myself I would never say/write to someone again.  I insulted her commitment to her friendship with my sister and her overall intelligence... a few times over.  I don't remember most of what she said, but I clearly remember that she gave me the "People like you just like to take people like me down" line.

That line stands out in my memory because it was one of my first encounters with this sort of thinking.  First, I was put off by the binary.  People like me = older, fat, (then) dateless, loser.  People like her = naturally thin, blonde, super pretty, popular, mean because she can be.  It was simply crazy to me that someone "like me" was trying to take down someone "like her".  It was a total reverse of the standard power structure and so crazy that I couldn't understand where it was coming from. Now I know, though.  It was all that namby-pamby, give everyone a trophy for showing up stuff that's been going on for a while now and is a huge support system to the current reality show production system.  I watch some reality television, but I have very little patience for and tend not to watch the shows where when someone gets voted off, they go into the standard, "They made a mistake/they just don't 'get' me/you haven't seen the last of me/everyone will know my name/I'll be famous anyway" rant.  I'm sorry, snowflake, but odds are you won't be famous anyway unless you sell out that attitude and become a ridiculous farce of yourself. I'm so glad someone was able to put this into words. 

I hope more people take notice and there is an effort to work at reversing this trend.  Let's get back to trying to raise citizens that feel a responsibility to their communities and fellow people.

This is so how I feel about people with bluetooth headsets.

This site - Lunchbreath's Flickr Photostream - was highlighted on The Huffington Post yesterday.  It is chock full of awesome illustrations, but this was a "Oh, yes, this" moment on the first page I looked at:

I have a theory that the people who walk around with those blinking blue earsets have a secret desire to be Jem:

Remember Jem?  She was truly outrageous - truly, truly, truly outrageous.  Oh, and the music's contagious, outrageous.  Remember her special earrings?  They helped her computer, Synergy, to transform her from her regular music executive daily life into Jem, the superstar. But I'm sorry person walking around with the bluetooth headset; you are no Jem.

Things I Miss Friday - play with your food edition

I miss having puzzles and games on my food.

I haven't found any "grown-up" (i.e. not sugar-laden) oatmeal packets with trivia questions on them.  As it is, I need to just buy some plain oats instead of the flavored oatmeal, so there goes the trivia entirely, but it got me thinking.

When I was little, I read all...the...time.  Every morning I'd read my cereal box, the milk container - whatever was around.  Same went for lunch time.  There was a short period of time where my siblings and I ate lunch at school (a rariety in my hometown - 99% of kids go home or out to lunch).  The school system doesn't have any cafeterias that serve food (just large rooms with tables that they call the cafeteria) so it was always a brown bag situation.

Now, what could be more boring than a brown bag lunch, right?  Ah, but that is where you'd be wrong.  Once my brother started school (so all three of us were in school), my mom went back to work nights and my dad worked during the day, so we always had a parent available.  What this meant, though, was that it was our dad that made our lunches at night for the next schoolday - and he was having none of that boring brown bag stuff.

My dad would make our lunches after we went to bed so what would be both in and on the bag would be a surprise.  That's right - on the bag.  What was on our brown lunch bag?  Word games!  He would take a black marker and draw word finds and crossword puzzles and word scrambles for us; the difficulty would change depending on whose lunch it was.  For my brother (since he was only five or six), he might have a 3-letter by 3-letter grid and have to find the word "dog" - which would be right across the top (one of the cutest things I ever remember from my childhood).

The best part about this is that it feels like an interpretation on a burgeoning family tradition.  My father's parents came to this country from Estonia (by way of Sweden) and spoke very little English (very, very little - like almost none).  Since in those days it wasn't as easy as it would be now to get things to read in Estonian, my grandfather would make up his own things, including his own crossword puzzles.  He would design a whole crossword puzzle in Estonian and then solve it.  (I'm guessing that the fun was more in the creation than the solving.)  I didn't know about this until long after he had passed away, probably twenty years after my last brown bag lunch, and didn't put this all together until a few more years after that.

I think this all contributes to my view that every moment of one's day can be a learning opportunity, but now I think it also chimes with the idea that food/mealtime should be fun and interesting.  My family always had lively mealtimes and I feel like my lunch bag games were a way of taking that with me to school.

Now I usually eat my lunch at my desk at work, as I think most working adults do.  We should all get out and play.

Things I Miss Friday: the summer reading book table

I went to Barnes & Noble last night to pick up a new Star Trek novel for the hubby to read on the plane this weekend.  While walking through the fiction section, I was undeniably drawn to the summer reading table.  I always hated summer break when I was younger because I wanted to stay in school.  The bright spot?  The summer reading list.  I loved going to the library and seeing the display table of all the summer reading options, arranged by grade and reading level.

Looking at the summer reading tables now is like taking a trip down memory lane, remembering the books I read over summers past.  I remember the summer before my junior year, taking the list to the library and deciding I would choose the biggest book on the list (show-off snot that I was) so I chose The Fountainhead.  I loved it, of course, but I haven't read it since and would really love to read it again because I think there's so much more I could get from it now.

I have books I already own on my to-read list (as always) but perhaps I'll take a trip to my local library and peruse the summer reading list to get a fresh idea.

What's on your summer reading list?

Things I miss - Saturday edition

I don't know how the weather is where you are since, well, I don't know who you are or where you are.  But here in the northeast, we've been getting a lot of rain.  And what does rain bring with it?  Yes, puddles and people driving slowly - but more than that, it brings complaining - lots and lots of complaining.  Why do people hate the rain so much?  I think rain is wonderful.  It sounds great, it smells great, it's completely necessary and useful.  Sure, no one likes being wet when they get to work or home, but is that really such a problem?  WHY is rain so inconvenient and why does it inspire such hatred?  I love it, as I do a lot of things that are perceived to be dreary, which might be why my husband calls me Eeyore once in a while.

Now, I may have a couple of stuffed Eeyores... and, okay, I may have been Eeyore for Halloween sometime in my mid-20s, but I do not have a cloud following me.  But, if I DID, I would still love the rain. Which brings me to this week's things I miss (which I missed doing yesterday but will instead do today). 

Today's edition is inspired by the recent rain as well as Mother's Day. 

Did your mother make you wear these things when it rained?

1. A slicker
When was the last time you heard the word slicker?  I remember my mom using it but for the longest time now it's just been a raincoat.  And why does it seem like they were always yellow (my least favorite color)?  But these aren't the raincoats of today, made of water resistant fabric.  No, no.  These were basically plastic shaped into coat form.  If it was a particularly crazy rain storm, you'd take this off and everything outside of the slicker's cover would be wet (your hands, ends of sleeves, and pants below the knee).  But they did a good job most of the time.

     

2. Galoshes
No, not the cute patterned rainboots we all wear now (I have a powder blue pair that I love).  These went on OVER your shoes and buttoned together at the top to hold them on (see picture).  I HATED these things.  I thought they were ugly then and I think they're ugly now - kind of like a cross between Uggs and Crocs!  Why didn't we just have cute rubber shoes?  Why did we have to put ugly rubber boots over our sneakers?  They did work fairly well, except if you jumped in a puddle.  Because they were relatively low and not sealed at the top, if you jumped in a puddle, much of the water got inside and your shoes got wet anyway, totally defeating the purpose.  Not that I did this, Mom.  I'm just saying I saw it happen to other people.

 

3. Clear umbrellas
I remember these as being particularly girly and feminine.  Sometimes there would be a design (flowers or ribbons or Hello Kitty) on the umbrella, but it was always still clear enough to see through.  They were also narrower and longer than traditional umbrellas, so when you put it over your head, it went down to your shoulders.  Little girls could share one, but adults couldn't (unless it was huge).  They seem to be making a resurgence and I think I want to get one.

Rain is one of the most incredible sense memory experiences for me.  When it rains, I first think of the first college I attended, which was in the Lehigh Valley, aka the Leaky Valley because it rained so much.  I can close my eyes and smell the rain in the fall or spring and am immediately brought back to that campus. 

Next, I remember living on my own the past few years and walking Oreo in the rain, no matter how bad it was.  I remember walking to elementary school (with all of the above gear), back when my friends didn't complain about the rain.  I remember the house we lived in when I started high school; it had a screened in back porch with a sofa on it - the absolute perfect place to sit and enjoy a cool rain shower.

Oreo woke me up at 4:30am today to go out in the monsoon that was going on outside and, while I was not incredibly happy to go out at that hour, I still smiled as I got back into bed and heard the rain pounding down outside the windows in our bedroom.  So rain, rain, don't go away.  Stay again, another day.

It's not easy, quoth the grandmother.

There was an interesting article in the NY Times a couple of days ago about how Michelle Obama's mother, Marian Robinson, is adjusting to life in Washington D.C.  I believe there are so many families in this country who rely on grandparents to help them make ends meet, both financially and in their daily lives, and that the idea is not really discussed often enough.  I like that Ms. Robinson is becoming more of a national talking point, or that grandparents in general are.

My little fur baby, Oreo, was quite sick last week.  I still don't know what it was, but starting on Monday she had diarrhea and it lasted through the week, actually getting worse throughout the weekend.  I brought her to my parents' house on Sunday while I did laundry and asked if they could watch her for us while we went to see the Wolverine movie.  They did and then offered to watch her for another day or two since my mother is home all day and could keep an eye on her (Oreo was going outside nearly every hour on Sunday so I was very worried about her dehydrating).  She seems to have fully recovered now, thankfully - but it made me realize how glad I am that both the hubby and I have our parents around in the event that we need help.  Granted, right now, that help mainly entails offering up a free meal and laundry machine usage once a week, but even that is nothing to sneeze it; we appreciate it greatly.

My grandmother is a legend in our family (but whose isn't, right?).  Many years ago, after my grandfather died of cancer, my grandmother declared that, "Everyone has cancer in them - it just matters how you live."  Not many years later, scientists theorized the same thing - that we all have the potential for cancer in our DNA but that it's our life circumstances and habits that determine whether or not it's expressed.  Now, for a woman who grew up in the Ukraine and never went to school a day in her life, that's pretty incredible.

 

But nothing tops her most used and well-loved phrases:  "It's not easy" (sometimes also known as "Life's not easy") and "You do what you can."  Often these are used in tandem, for example:

Grandmother: How's school? Me: Good.  I like it a lot.  It's a lot of work and I don't get to see my friends a lot, but it's good. Grandmother: Yeah, it's not easy but you do what you can.

Bingo, bam, slam dunk.  The phrases work in so many situations and we have all found ourselves using them on occasion and giggling when we hear other people use them.

But they're both remarkably true and that's the simple beauty to them, the sort of simplistic, truthful beauty that can't be learned in school.  Yes, life is not easy.  Nothing worth something is.  And, yes, you do what you can.  Of course, that one could almost be overlooked - of COURSE we all do what we can.  But the beauty is deeper.  What constitutes can?  As an educator, I am frequently faced with students who think they're doing all they can but once you show them how just a little bit more effort pays off, they realize they can do so much more.

My grandmother marched through Europe during WWII, moving from country to country with my grandfather, with nearly nothing to their name, picking up five languages along the way, although she knew how to read none.  They moved to Argentina and then later to the U.S. when my mother was a baby.  Perhaps that's why I have a broad view of what one can do - because my grandmother showed me a whole world of can.

When my grandfather died, she was 63 years old and still did not know how to read.  My mother set her up with a literacy teacher and, with help and time, she learned to read for herself.  Now nearly 85, she has been living on her own for twenty years, managing her house, shopping, medications, and daily life.

I feel like what I can do pales in comparison to what her generation was able to do.  My family history drives me to do what I can because that's what you do: you do what you can because it's not easy.

What can you do?