I like science.
And LEARNING.
Personally, I'm more of a biology and zoology type science person (animal sciences is my major, after all). Even though most people couldn't get me to sit down and study physics or chemistry I certainly appreciate their value. A lot of wonderful advances in the world have been made thanks to the passion and determination that others have for those subjects - advances that I won't hesitate to take advantage of.
We learn new things through studies all the time. We are in such a scientific age that funding for any kind of study can be found as long as you find the right benefactor. Sometimes it's the government, sometimes it's a corporation that's trying to sell a product, sometimes it's just someone that loves science.
Recently some scientists did a study about cell phones. So long have we been hearing about cell phone waves causing cancer and OMG we're going to die because of these handy, addictive, useful, prolific (I've never used "prolific" outside of describing a serial killer, I thought it was time I did) gadgets.
The study results?
Cell phones MAY cause cancer. No one is sure yet but they might. So just to be safe you shouldn't talk on your phone for a "prolonged period of time". What is a prolonged period of time? We don't know. I guess that means as long as I don't describe any phone call I have as "prolonged" then I win. It's SCIENCE. You can't disprove it.
If I was on the phone and the person I was talking to say, "Wow, this phone call is prolonged" I would then blame them for giving me cancer.
I thought it was odd that instead of saying "inconclusive" the response was "we don't know but maybe so here's a bunch of crazy stuff you should do to avoid cancer". By odd, I mean ridiculous. Besides, EVERYTHING gives us cancer nowadays. You're going to die eventually - get over it.
Another study I read about was done how you can be successful as a waitress.
No, you didn't read that wrong.
Harvard got a bunch of science folk together and studied what behaviors earned more tips. The results lead to suggestions such as, standing close, smiling a lot, being cheerful, hygenic, attractive, talkative and efficient. Good thing this wasn't stuff that we all KNEW ALREADY or that would have just been a GIANT waste of time and money.
So, if you ever feel stupid or like you aren't amounting to anything, just remember - this is what people at HARVARD are up to.
-E
Friday, June 10, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Girls Like Shoes!
When I was sixteen I stopped wearing shoes.
Okay, so that's not entirely true.
Let's start at the beginning.
I was not raised in a family with a whole lot of expendable income. Don't get me wrong, my parents did absolutely everything in their power to ensure that Big Sister and I had a lot of extracurricular activities. It helped that we homeschooled through a charter school and one of the things they do is help pay for stuff that is school related. That meant we could spend decent money on my softball gear and once I got serious about softball I always had NICE cleats.
In our everyday life however we didn't have that luxury. Mom said that since Big Sister and I made so much money babysitting we could buy all of our own stuff. This was when I was thirteen. We bought all our own clothes, toiletries, food, etc. I was told I was lucky we weren't being charged rent. Everything else came out of our own pocket.
It wasn't too bad, my sister and I did make a lot of money for our age. This also allowed mom and dad to have money to pay big important bills and for my mom to do her dog related activities. However when it came down to it, shoes and clothes weren't as important to me as comic books and anime. The only time I splurged on clothes was if it was somehow related to something that I was a fan of.
I had one pair of sneakers, a pair of flip flops and my cleats. That's all I needed. That's all I wanted. I got the cheapest shoes I could find.
When I was sixteen I couldn't find socks to put on my sneakers and my flip flops had been MIA for a while. I was going to the store with my friend, Willow, and I wasn't about to miss out on that. I had grown to hate shoes anyway. Since I wouldn't bring myself to buy high-end shoes I often ended up with shoes that were plastic or didn't fit as well as they could and they left me with blisters, hangnails and discomfort.
So I went barefoot.
I loved it.
I loved the feel of the earth under my feet. I loved the grass, the asphalt, the dirt, the everything. Even in the store with the chilly vinyl I loved it.
So I stopped wearing shoes except in certain circumstances. Obviously in softball or when I went to work I wore them as required. If the day was really hot and I didn't want to burn the bottom of my feet and get blisters (again) I wore flip flops. Otherwise, I didn't wear shoes.
It became one of my connections to nature based religion which is still a defining part of my life. My feet became callused and tough on the bottom, but I didn't have bunions or misshapen feet or blisters that comes from cheap ill fitting shoes. My feet never smelled and my toenails were healthy and were a normal color.
One time while in the Michaels craft store an employee came up to me and said that I should wear shoes because sometimes there was broken glass on the floor. I informed her that she didn't have to worry, all glass did was get stuck in my calluses and I could brush it off. She was probably too disgusted to push the issue further so she left me alone.
Of course this habit left the bottom of my feet black at the end of the day after wandering around a bit. My boyfriend at the time hated it but I didn't want him sucking on my toes anyway and he cared way more about what strangers thought than I did. People warned me about hookworms and other diseases that I never contracted.
To this day I prefer to be barefoot. I kick off my shoes before driving and my life seems more filled with work, school, speech tournaments, running and other places that require I wear these society required torture devices.
I still fully appreciate the moments when I don't have to worry about shoes, when I can just wander through the grass and feel it squish between my toes.
I still don't get pedicures because I hate the feeling of someone scrubbing off my calluses and how that causes my feet to be sensitive and squishy until they build back up.
I still can't bring myself to spend more than $25 on shoes, even that is pushing it as far as I'm concerned.
I still have calluses and I still love them.
I hope one day I work in a place that will allow me the freedom to be barefoot all the time.
Except when I'm scooping poop. Don't wanna step in that stuff.
-E
Okay, so that's not entirely true.
Let's start at the beginning.
I was not raised in a family with a whole lot of expendable income. Don't get me wrong, my parents did absolutely everything in their power to ensure that Big Sister and I had a lot of extracurricular activities. It helped that we homeschooled through a charter school and one of the things they do is help pay for stuff that is school related. That meant we could spend decent money on my softball gear and once I got serious about softball I always had NICE cleats.
In our everyday life however we didn't have that luxury. Mom said that since Big Sister and I made so much money babysitting we could buy all of our own stuff. This was when I was thirteen. We bought all our own clothes, toiletries, food, etc. I was told I was lucky we weren't being charged rent. Everything else came out of our own pocket.
It wasn't too bad, my sister and I did make a lot of money for our age. This also allowed mom and dad to have money to pay big important bills and for my mom to do her dog related activities. However when it came down to it, shoes and clothes weren't as important to me as comic books and anime. The only time I splurged on clothes was if it was somehow related to something that I was a fan of.
I had one pair of sneakers, a pair of flip flops and my cleats. That's all I needed. That's all I wanted. I got the cheapest shoes I could find.
When I was sixteen I couldn't find socks to put on my sneakers and my flip flops had been MIA for a while. I was going to the store with my friend, Willow, and I wasn't about to miss out on that. I had grown to hate shoes anyway. Since I wouldn't bring myself to buy high-end shoes I often ended up with shoes that were plastic or didn't fit as well as they could and they left me with blisters, hangnails and discomfort.
So I went barefoot.
I loved it.
I loved the feel of the earth under my feet. I loved the grass, the asphalt, the dirt, the everything. Even in the store with the chilly vinyl I loved it.
So I stopped wearing shoes except in certain circumstances. Obviously in softball or when I went to work I wore them as required. If the day was really hot and I didn't want to burn the bottom of my feet and get blisters (again) I wore flip flops. Otherwise, I didn't wear shoes.
It became one of my connections to nature based religion which is still a defining part of my life. My feet became callused and tough on the bottom, but I didn't have bunions or misshapen feet or blisters that comes from cheap ill fitting shoes. My feet never smelled and my toenails were healthy and were a normal color.
One time while in the Michaels craft store an employee came up to me and said that I should wear shoes because sometimes there was broken glass on the floor. I informed her that she didn't have to worry, all glass did was get stuck in my calluses and I could brush it off. She was probably too disgusted to push the issue further so she left me alone.
Of course this habit left the bottom of my feet black at the end of the day after wandering around a bit. My boyfriend at the time hated it but I didn't want him sucking on my toes anyway and he cared way more about what strangers thought than I did. People warned me about hookworms and other diseases that I never contracted.
To this day I prefer to be barefoot. I kick off my shoes before driving and my life seems more filled with work, school, speech tournaments, running and other places that require I wear these society required torture devices.
I still fully appreciate the moments when I don't have to worry about shoes, when I can just wander through the grass and feel it squish between my toes.
I still don't get pedicures because I hate the feeling of someone scrubbing off my calluses and how that causes my feet to be sensitive and squishy until they build back up.
I still can't bring myself to spend more than $25 on shoes, even that is pushing it as far as I'm concerned.
I still have calluses and I still love them.
I hope one day I work in a place that will allow me the freedom to be barefoot all the time.
Except when I'm scooping poop. Don't wanna step in that stuff.
-E
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Labels Labels Everywhere
I was so mad at first because it appeared my last blog post about skinny jeans and chat speak had evaporated but today I checked and BAM! There it was. I am okay with this and it has reminded me I should probably post something else.
Something that I was thinking about as I was having a conversation.
I remember when I was growing up I preferred the company of boys. I played mostly with boy toys and played mostly active boy games. I played with some girl toys like My Little Pony and Polly Pockets but everything was some giant battle. Sometimes with the ponies my sister and I would create bands that went on tour and sang along to songs on the radio. But mostly something awful always went wrong and the bad guys had to be defeated.
House was boring unless I was playing the dog or the evil stepmother (muahahaha)!
I wasn't afraid to get dirty and I quickly lost interest in make up for frilly things.
There was a period in my life where I tried to fit in and be girly. Then that got boring so I stopped.
I was... a tomboy. I still consider myself a tomboy. I figured a tomboy is a girl that wasn't a lesbian and wasn't interested in girly things.
Now this friend of mine - she's very sweet and funny. I enjoy her company. She is interested in outfits, hair dos, make up and all that stuff (including the color pink, ick). However she also snowboards, loves the lakers and listens to rap music.
Per my definition, she's not a tomboy... however in our conversation she revealed that she considers herself one. Simply because some things she likes are not traditionally girly.
I feel like her definition is too broad, her definition can apply to almost ANY woman and therefore makes the term "tomboy" completely pointless. It cheapens the word and makes it taste like watered down beer when I say it.
Worst of all, it makes ME less special.
And we can't have that, can we?
-E
Something that I was thinking about as I was having a conversation.
I remember when I was growing up I preferred the company of boys. I played mostly with boy toys and played mostly active boy games. I played with some girl toys like My Little Pony and Polly Pockets but everything was some giant battle. Sometimes with the ponies my sister and I would create bands that went on tour and sang along to songs on the radio. But mostly something awful always went wrong and the bad guys had to be defeated.
House was boring unless I was playing the dog or the evil stepmother (muahahaha)!
I wasn't afraid to get dirty and I quickly lost interest in make up for frilly things.
There was a period in my life where I tried to fit in and be girly. Then that got boring so I stopped.
I was... a tomboy. I still consider myself a tomboy. I figured a tomboy is a girl that wasn't a lesbian and wasn't interested in girly things.
Now this friend of mine - she's very sweet and funny. I enjoy her company. She is interested in outfits, hair dos, make up and all that stuff (including the color pink, ick). However she also snowboards, loves the lakers and listens to rap music.
Per my definition, she's not a tomboy... however in our conversation she revealed that she considers herself one. Simply because some things she likes are not traditionally girly.
I feel like her definition is too broad, her definition can apply to almost ANY woman and therefore makes the term "tomboy" completely pointless. It cheapens the word and makes it taste like watered down beer when I say it.
Worst of all, it makes ME less special.
And we can't have that, can we?
-E
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Cowboys Don't Wear Them
There are a few things in this world that really get me mad. Just by existing. Every time I encounter one of these things it sets me off on a little rant (this happens in my head and out if there is someone nearby to listen).
Chatspeak is one of those things. I hate it in emails, over IM, on forums, via text message... there's just no good excuse to ever substitute "u" for "you". If your Y button stops working then don't talk to me until you fix it.
It's also really difficult to read. There have been many instances when I've had to ask other people to translate what some person is saying. It's incredibly frustrating since, seemingly, the entire purpose of chatspeak is to simplify the English language, not commit unspeakable (literally) horrors to it's very functionality!
Communication is important!
Another one of these things seems to be gaining in popularity. Skinny. Freaking. Jeans.
About 50% of the population insists on wearing these monstrosities and they are flattering for about 1%. These percentages are 100% accurate and are drawn from my head in the midst of a mental rant.
The problem with Skinny jeans is that you have to have narrow hips and thin, long legs in order to look good in them. Most girls don't have that, considering we're supposed to have wider hips than shoulders. Most guys don't have that unless they're prepubescent and haven't developed thigh muscles yet. Fat people especially do not fit in this category (for crying out loud, it's in the name! "Skinny" jeans) and usually what we end up seeing is a Dr. Eggerman lookalike rolling about.
Sometimes, and this is entirely baffling, I find that in order to fit ankles into these types of jeans, whoever is wearing it has to get a couple sizes larger in the waist which means someone is wearing baggy skinny jeans that accentuate the largeness of the rump area and make the calves look super bulky.
So unless you're a supermodel, don't wear them. If you're a guy, don't wear them either - unless you're some hipster type and then you're pretty much doomed to look like you suffer from lack of grooming and ill fitted anyway.
-E
Chatspeak is one of those things. I hate it in emails, over IM, on forums, via text message... there's just no good excuse to ever substitute "u" for "you". If your Y button stops working then don't talk to me until you fix it.
It's also really difficult to read. There have been many instances when I've had to ask other people to translate what some person is saying. It's incredibly frustrating since, seemingly, the entire purpose of chatspeak is to simplify the English language, not commit unspeakable (literally) horrors to it's very functionality!
Communication is important!
Another one of these things seems to be gaining in popularity. Skinny. Freaking. Jeans.
About 50% of the population insists on wearing these monstrosities and they are flattering for about 1%. These percentages are 100% accurate and are drawn from my head in the midst of a mental rant.
The problem with Skinny jeans is that you have to have narrow hips and thin, long legs in order to look good in them. Most girls don't have that, considering we're supposed to have wider hips than shoulders. Most guys don't have that unless they're prepubescent and haven't developed thigh muscles yet. Fat people especially do not fit in this category (for crying out loud, it's in the name! "Skinny" jeans) and usually what we end up seeing is a Dr. Eggerman lookalike rolling about.
Sometimes, and this is entirely baffling, I find that in order to fit ankles into these types of jeans, whoever is wearing it has to get a couple sizes larger in the waist which means someone is wearing baggy skinny jeans that accentuate the largeness of the rump area and make the calves look super bulky.
So unless you're a supermodel, don't wear them. If you're a guy, don't wear them either - unless you're some hipster type and then you're pretty much doomed to look like you suffer from lack of grooming and ill fitted anyway.
-E
Monday, May 9, 2011
I'll Tell You Why I Can Be So Heartless
I know, it's been a while. Sparkles has been buggin' me to post.
Joe J Johnson III and I decided we wanted to go see Insidious the other day because we're such big fans of Paranormal Activity 1 and 2.
Of course, we can't go see a movie without getting some noms first. The availability of coupons (buy one get one free!) meant that we ended up at Burger King. When Joe J and I walked in we were closely followed by a group of tubby Mexican kids, probably about twelve or so.
Is it racist to point out that they were Mexican? I figure it's just kind of a fact, but if you've been to Southern California you probably realize this is a bit pertinent to the story. Or not. Whatever, it's a description.
They were just hanging out at the front of the store while Joe and I ordered and ate. At one point I needed to go up to the front to grab our food and one of the punks was playing on his scooter which caused me to bump into him since they weren't taught to get the hell out of the way in WALK AREAS. But I was nice, I apologized and said excuse me and got back to my table unharmed.
As we were walking out and I was filling the cup to go, the same boy that I bumped into mouthed something at me. Okay, so he didn't mouth anything but he was speaking really quietly so I didn't hear him.
E : "What?"
Tubby Kid: "Can I borrow a dollar?"
E : "No! What's wrong with you?!"
I was super annoyed. I pushed past him and walked with Joe to the car. The kid followed behind us for a bit but I kept looking back at him and he ran off once he got out the front door. I ranted to Joe about how it was BS that he thought it was appropriate to go around asking complete strangers for money when he was obviously well fed, well groomed and well clothed. Joe said he had seen the kid approach other people as well. This explained why the group of them were just hanging out at the front instead of ordering food and sitting down like normal people.
The more I thought about it the more angry I became. This fat little kid thought it was okay to beg for money when there are children in homeless shelters that don't get enough. He even had the audacity to ask to "borrow" money, as though he intended to repay it at a later date! He could benefit from a volunteering gig I assume.
Punk had newer clothes than I did.
Insidious was okay. I think I expected it to be better than it was.
-E
Joe J Johnson III and I decided we wanted to go see Insidious the other day because we're such big fans of Paranormal Activity 1 and 2.
Of course, we can't go see a movie without getting some noms first. The availability of coupons (buy one get one free!) meant that we ended up at Burger King. When Joe J and I walked in we were closely followed by a group of tubby Mexican kids, probably about twelve or so.
Is it racist to point out that they were Mexican? I figure it's just kind of a fact, but if you've been to Southern California you probably realize this is a bit pertinent to the story. Or not. Whatever, it's a description.
They were just hanging out at the front of the store while Joe and I ordered and ate. At one point I needed to go up to the front to grab our food and one of the punks was playing on his scooter which caused me to bump into him since they weren't taught to get the hell out of the way in WALK AREAS. But I was nice, I apologized and said excuse me and got back to my table unharmed.
As we were walking out and I was filling the cup to go, the same boy that I bumped into mouthed something at me. Okay, so he didn't mouth anything but he was speaking really quietly so I didn't hear him.
E : "What?"
Tubby Kid: "Can I borrow a dollar?"
E : "No! What's wrong with you?!"
I was super annoyed. I pushed past him and walked with Joe to the car. The kid followed behind us for a bit but I kept looking back at him and he ran off once he got out the front door. I ranted to Joe about how it was BS that he thought it was appropriate to go around asking complete strangers for money when he was obviously well fed, well groomed and well clothed. Joe said he had seen the kid approach other people as well. This explained why the group of them were just hanging out at the front instead of ordering food and sitting down like normal people.
The more I thought about it the more angry I became. This fat little kid thought it was okay to beg for money when there are children in homeless shelters that don't get enough. He even had the audacity to ask to "borrow" money, as though he intended to repay it at a later date! He could benefit from a volunteering gig I assume.
Punk had newer clothes than I did.
Insidious was okay. I think I expected it to be better than it was.
-E
Monday, March 21, 2011
A Few Changes
I've obviously customized my blog. Let me know what you think - I may or may not care.
I think my biggest problem with it is that you have to have the page maximized to get the full impact of the wallpaper.
Edit: Nevermind, I fixed that. /edit
This set up also means that I can't do the fancy font color change every time someone talks. I want to break away from that anyway. Of course this means I'm going to have to go through my old blogs and change all the colors.
I will probably make time for this when I'm not at work.
I'm usually at work when I write blog entries.
I know this is not ideal. For my employers. It's ideal for me because it's like I'm getting paid for blogging. Yes, this is cheating but how many of you can say you are paid to blog?
Hmmm?
-E
I think my biggest problem with it is that you have to have the page maximized to get the full impact of the wallpaper.
Edit: Nevermind, I fixed that. /edit
This set up also means that I can't do the fancy font color change every time someone talks. I want to break away from that anyway. Of course this means I'm going to have to go through my old blogs and change all the colors.
I will probably make time for this when I'm not at work.
I'm usually at work when I write blog entries.
I know this is not ideal. For my employers. It's ideal for me because it's like I'm getting paid for blogging. Yes, this is cheating but how many of you can say you are paid to blog?
Hmmm?
-E
Too Late To Apologize?
I was recently out of town for a school function. It was the speech state tournament. Very competitive and we've been working for this for a long time.
My roommate was going to be the team mother - a strong black woman that I enjoyed very much. She is an ex-marine and a mom of three kids somewhere in her early thirties. Sometimes her mothering bled over into her interactions with the teammates but most of us enjoy it.
The first thing she asks me as we're unpacking is if I snore.
This is a difficult question. I sometimes snore, but not often. If I'm extra tired, sick (congested), stressed or drunk I will snore. The volume is dependent on how much of each thing is true. I told her as much and she told me not to worry, she had earplugs.
All is well until the final day. I wake up realizing I had slept through the wake up call and my alarms. It wasn't too bad considering I wasn't performing that morning, I was just supposed to watch others, but then I noticed Team Mom was up and dressed and being very quiet. This is unlike her. I immediately sense the awkward. Something is wrong, something is bothering her. She had been bugging me all weekend about practicing and I took it in stride and let her be all motherly and when I had enough I left.
As far as I knew there wasn't anything wrong since I hadn't said anything.
It wasn't until I was halfway through packing (I didn't want to ask her what was wrong, I didn't feel like playing that game) that she spoke up.
"You were snoring so loud last night."
I wasn't too surprised considering I had three of the four issues that usually make me snore. I blubbered an apology, offered to buy her coffee (which she turned down saying she already had some) told her she could have woken me up (which she claims she tried and it didn't work. I believe her) and I was so sorry. She nodded and kept packing until I ran out of things to say. We worked in silence for a while.
After a few more minutes I told her that I wish there was something I could do because I still felt bad.
"You should feel bad."
It was that moment that I stopped feeling guilty. It's embarrassing enough to snore but it's obviously not something I did on purpose. It's not like I went to bed the night before and cackled to myself about how I was going to snore SO LOUD that people in the room next to us would complain! I did everything I could to make it right, apologizing multiple times, offering coffee or breakfast and not once did she tell me it was okay, or it wasn't that big of a deal or even joking demand coffee for a month.
She was seriously upset with me over a condition that I have. It's not even like I snored all four nights, it was just that one and it wasn't even a night before we had to perform. I concluded she was being dramatic. I finished packing in silence, grabbed my stuff and left the room.
How DOES someone make that right? It's socially awkward enough to get caught snoring but to have it held against you? Is that okay? Was I wrong? Should I still feel badly and get her a Starbucks card?
I don't get people.
-E
My roommate was going to be the team mother - a strong black woman that I enjoyed very much. She is an ex-marine and a mom of three kids somewhere in her early thirties. Sometimes her mothering bled over into her interactions with the teammates but most of us enjoy it.
The first thing she asks me as we're unpacking is if I snore.
This is a difficult question. I sometimes snore, but not often. If I'm extra tired, sick (congested), stressed or drunk I will snore. The volume is dependent on how much of each thing is true. I told her as much and she told me not to worry, she had earplugs.
All is well until the final day. I wake up realizing I had slept through the wake up call and my alarms. It wasn't too bad considering I wasn't performing that morning, I was just supposed to watch others, but then I noticed Team Mom was up and dressed and being very quiet. This is unlike her. I immediately sense the awkward. Something is wrong, something is bothering her. She had been bugging me all weekend about practicing and I took it in stride and let her be all motherly and when I had enough I left.
As far as I knew there wasn't anything wrong since I hadn't said anything.
It wasn't until I was halfway through packing (I didn't want to ask her what was wrong, I didn't feel like playing that game) that she spoke up.
"You were snoring so loud last night."
I wasn't too surprised considering I had three of the four issues that usually make me snore. I blubbered an apology, offered to buy her coffee (which she turned down saying she already had some) told her she could have woken me up (which she claims she tried and it didn't work. I believe her) and I was so sorry. She nodded and kept packing until I ran out of things to say. We worked in silence for a while.
After a few more minutes I told her that I wish there was something I could do because I still felt bad.
"You should feel bad."
It was that moment that I stopped feeling guilty. It's embarrassing enough to snore but it's obviously not something I did on purpose. It's not like I went to bed the night before and cackled to myself about how I was going to snore SO LOUD that people in the room next to us would complain! I did everything I could to make it right, apologizing multiple times, offering coffee or breakfast and not once did she tell me it was okay, or it wasn't that big of a deal or even joking demand coffee for a month.
She was seriously upset with me over a condition that I have. It's not even like I snored all four nights, it was just that one and it wasn't even a night before we had to perform. I concluded she was being dramatic. I finished packing in silence, grabbed my stuff and left the room.
How DOES someone make that right? It's socially awkward enough to get caught snoring but to have it held against you? Is that okay? Was I wrong? Should I still feel badly and get her a Starbucks card?
I don't get people.
-E
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