Tuesday, December 30, 2008

misfortune at the golden china ...in bed.

it's the most wonderful time of the year. the end of the year, that is. and since i'm at home for the week reminiscing about the good times past (what few there were) with my best friend, he suggested that i should end this year's post with a story of things past. so gather 'round kids, and prepare to be entertained by the story of the day my sister met my best friend thomas for the first time and also stopped eating egg drop soup forever. the story of an adventure at the golden china.

first, a little background information...
in a small town whose most popular restaurants are huddle house diner and bojangles fried chicken respectively, the golden china was unique not only in that it offered delicious tofu all the time, but also in it's brightly painted exterior which depicted lanterns, dragons, and most exciting of all, panda bears. it was decorated with christmas lights year round and they always had a chinese new year celebration extravaganza, which i actually never attended but sounded like a real good time. they had satellite television with chinese programming and best of all, NO BUFFET. people at buffets remind me of pigs at a trough. not to mention how unsanitary they are. i should tell you though, that even without a bacteria breeding buffet i did get food poisoning there once, but i don't hold that against them.

anyway...
once upon a time...
thomas and i had just started living together in a little brick house near the university where i did my undergrad degree, the first of many houses that we lived in together over the years. my younger sister was home visiting from college. we were going to get lunch and since my sister is vegetarian we immediately thought of golden china and their bean curd and vegetable delight.

we arrived only to find out that the golden china had decided that they would close during lunch on saturdays. not to worry. i should mention that the golden china stood adjacent to what can only be described as a meth motel called "the varsity inn." the people(family?) that ran the golden china not only ran this motel, but lived there. so as we stood there trying to decide where to go instead, the manager/owner, mr. chang, runs out from the motel and assures us that we shouldn't go anywhere as he will open the restaurant and cook for us personally. we tried unsuccessfully to decline as this seemed slightly odd since we had never seen mr. chang do anything but harangue the poor waitress who i heard he didn't even actually pay, but apparently "no" was not an answer he was willing to accept.

so he opened the restaurant for us and everything was going great. then my sister orders a cup of egg drop soup. she was saying how delicious the soup was when the conversation took an unappetizing turn. i'm not sure exactly what thomas says to my sister at this point. i believe it was some sort of comparison between eggs suspended in gelatenous broth with a certain class of bodily fluids. i do remember my sister pushing the mostly uneaten cup of soup to the side, refusing to eat the rest and stating that she would never be able to look at a cup of egg drop the same.

here's where things get interesting. after some uncomfortably silent contemplation of texture and egg drop soup, we got our entrees and began to feast. i noticed a bright flash from the kitchen, which i assumed was created safely within a wok as part of the cooking process. we keep eating. then thomas brings our attention to a large cloud of black smoke which we can see through the window is billowing from the back of the restaurant. we contemplated leaving, but reasoned that surely mr. chang would tell us if something were up. the smoke must be coming from somewhere else. yeah...that's it...

wrong. we quickly realized that the golden china was indeed on fire when the fire department arrived and rushed in the back. still, no mr. chang. not wanting to chance being incinerated, we threw some money on the table and got out of there.

i'm not quite sure what the point of this post was. the golden china didn't burn down. mr. chang was fine. and next time we ate there, everyone involved pretended nothing amiss had ever happened.

happy new year.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

you're a mean one martha grinch

i have been utterly and totally defeated by martha stewart and her army of impossible to achieve good things. this hurts, martha, i mean really hurts. for years i have had your back, but now i see the truth you stone-hearted old cow.

since the vacation period has left me with a bit of free time, i decided to make the december desert of the month featured in martha stweart living. you see, never having been a girl to pursue something half-heartedly, i decided that if i was going to eat carbs for the holidays, then i would reindulge in a full on sugar extravaganza otherwise known as the chocolate-coconut charlotte.

i'll try to spare you the myriad of bad things that happened whilst trying to make one good thing. basically what had happened was i tried to make the chocolate ladyfinger base of this enigmatic dessert of the month. after a great deal of patient assistance from my mother, i ended up with the following: one giant ladyfinger the size of a cookie sheet, sticky chocolate goo all over myself, and an incredible urge to drink.

i'm still not quite sure how this is all going to resolve itself. except for the drinking part. time to break open the reunite lambrusco. a steal at $5.99. a very good thing indeed. as far as the dessert...let's just say that it isn't going to look like the picture.

i had just started to get into the christmas spirit too. and martha stole it. took all my holiday good will and absconded with it to her connecticut country home. put out all the magazines you want peddling fake christmas cheer. i know you're up there in the northeast laughing at all us poor bastards trying to emulate a dessert you never even attempted to make yourself. i pity the intern that had to put THAT together for the photo shoot.

anyway... merry christmas to all and to all a night filled without the unreachable goals set forth by an aging ex-con who not only doesn't know christmas joy but delights in stealing it from others...thanks heaps martha....

Sunday, November 30, 2008

goodbye john and marlena...or, the final act in the odyssey of the golden snatch...

today is a very sad day for us all.  after years of showing us what it really means to selflessly love another person, soap opera super couple john and marlena will be no more.  i've been trying to verify this, but the closest i came was this article on soapnet.  feel free to read it yourself and draw your own conclusions, but basically in the wake of the economic crisis, nbc has decided that the salaries they pay to dierdre hall and whatever that guy's name is who plays john black are simply too much.  there's really no other way to say this...what the fuck nbc?

honestly, this recession's stopped being a joke when it's taking away the very thing that distracts people from the overwhelming futility of their own lives.  take me, for instance. i spent many an impoverished afternoon as an undergrad/waitress/ shiftless (stoner) lay about watching the stories and eating oodles of noodles.  for one whole summer my days revolved solely around days.  trust me, those were good times.  actually, it was kind of a best of times/worst of times situation.  but the best of times were spent watching the stories with my neighbor everyday.  and although days kind of lost me a few years ago when they introduced the whole alien/cloning plotline, there will always be a special place in my heart for dr. marlena evans (john too, but mostly marlena). 

what's so great about dr. marlena evans, you may be asking yourself... (that is if you are still reading this entry  and aren't completely repulsed by the sheer vapidness of the present endeavor.)  well...quite simply, EVERYTHING.  she's educated, well-spoken, beautiful, altruistic.... AND as if that weren't enough she spawned quite possibly the greatest soap character ever, other than marlena herself, the infamous sami brady.  and despite sami's devious ways, marlena still treats her with a mother's love.       

but you don't have to take my word for it.  just ask stefano di mera.   consider if you will all the mayhem that stefano's want of dr. marlena evans has incurred upon salem over the past twenty years.  brainwashing.  forced amnesia.  kidnapping.  murder.  breaking and entering.  i think he even wrote a poem or two for her.  seriously, most of us can only dream of having someone that loves us enough to hide in our closet, hypnotize us, and force us to be their queen of the night (if you remember that plot line all i can say is...respect). 

and yet through all this, john stayed by marlena's side.  she's just that awesome.  my best friend tb, who i'm sure will want to weigh in on this very important topic, and i have a theory about marlena that explains the fantastic lengths that people go to to be with her.  the  title of this entry should clear things up for you.  what other explanation could there possibly be?    




Tuesday, November 18, 2008

dear data, we need to talk...

i'm in process of working on a quantitative analysis for the stats class that i am taking. i would just like to say that i hate math. so very much. but in the interest of presenting myself as a marketable phd applicant, i am hunkering down (as my friend erin would say) and forcing myself to master something that is entirely antithetical to my nature.

the necessary interaction between myself and the data i am using can best be equated with a romantic relationship. i don't know if everyone looks it this way, in fact, i'm willing to bet that they do not, but i do. you see it's all about getting to know, playing with, and being comfortable enough with your data to reach the level of intimacy required for sophisticated analysis.

because i have not, as of yet, been able to take my relationship with my data to this next level, i think we should just break up.

data,
i've known for some time that something has changed. i just don't feel the same way about you anymore. maybe i never really loved you at all. it seems that we don't want the same things out of life, we're just in two different places. you want to be analyzed and show correlation and i don't even know what correlation is. you want to engage in regression and i will just never be comfortable doing that. it's not who i am. for these reasons i think we should see other people. or even better we should ONLY see other people. i care about you so much and wish you all the best , data, but we are fundamentally incompatible.

love,
mandy

ps: it's not me. it's YOU...

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

election day thoughts (from ann coulter to mickey avalon and back again)

would the following people please shut the fuck up...
1.) ann coulter.
typically i invest so little into what ann has to say that i don't even think about her at all. she is the worst kind of woman, no, human. one that spews disempowering hate speech (towards other women and minorities of all persuasions) and then says she feels comfortable in doing so based upon, wait for it, the fact that she's hot and blond.
and then i see a reference to the inane drivel that somehow is considered valid by a certain segment of the population. in this case, my attention was captured because on the social networking page of someone i went to college with is featured an application called "daily ann coulter quote" or some such nonsense. and i am enraged all over again.

2.) the people that feel that they can talk on their cell phones and do other things at the same time like drive/shop/pay for groceries. i don't enjoy being held up by your inability to multi-task and i definitely do not enjoy hearing about your personal business while i'm trying to pick out the perfect vegetables.

and while we're on the subject of grocery shopping, the self check out lane is typically also the express lane. that means there is a limit to the number of items that you should be purchasing. apparently adult literacy is a much more extensive problem in america than i thought given the amount of people go through the express check-out with far too many items. i;m sorry. it just bothers me. almost, but not quite, as much as ann coulter.

the following people should talk more...
mickey avalon. i'm going to try not to go into a long theoretical consideration of his music, which is interesting to me on many levels even though it's not really my thing. i think it's the really weird juxtaposition of individual, performance and subjective truth that really interests me.

and i'm a girl who appreciates a john holmes reference.

actually i'm a girl that appreciates a radical socialist reference. i was initially interested in why someone catering to spoiled, rich girls* would sample john sinclair, who was a militant socialist. and i'm not overly convinced of the theoretical soundness of his position either. i'm just not thoroughly convinced that you can totally equate freedom with free love and getting high.
*(these girls appear to be his target audience and their reaction to him alone is worth seeing....check out his myspace page and be incredibly entertained, although i don't know which is more shocking, the comments themselves or the bad grammar)

i don't know what it is about mickey avalon, but i could listen to him give interviews all day. it's hard enough to give a convincing interview or any other kind of public talk, much less when you're consistently discussing things about your own past that would in many cases be considered not appropriate for discussion. let's face it, there's a fine line between self deprecation and cashing in. but he manages to actually pull it off while sounding articulate and genuine at the same time.

so i could write about this all day, and maybe sometime i will, but for now i have to do actual work. and for everybody out there...go out and vote. unless you're planning to vote for mccain, and then you should just stay home.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

the mean reds

it's been awhile since i've had a chance to blog. in fact i really don't have time to blog now, but thanks to my sister lauren who apparently misses my posts and because i am a hopeless procrastinator, i am taking the time now.

today i am sad. actually i don't know if sad is exactly the right word. it's kind of like sad/discouraged/annoyed /exasperated /apathetic all at the same time.

i'm sad because i spent the better part of my weekend studying for a statistics exam that i think i probably failed. the defeat i felt after taking this exam regressed me back into my past failures at math and made me wonder why i thought this time would be different. i did every practice problem i could find. this includes the ones in the book and a bunch online. didn't matter. guess i better hurry up and send out my transcripts before this semester is over.

i'm sad because i can't drink and be on the south beach diet simultaneously. i found this out the hard way when i passed out at the bar the other night when i decided to drink after going without carbs or sugar for two weeks. and in front of people i know professionally, no less. i don't think it's fair that i have to choose between being thin and being drunk.

i'm sad because i think the root of my socialist beliefs is an incredible bitterness about having to work 16 hour days, while other people lounge about. spare me the lecture about how money can't buy happiness. whoever said that shit was obviously rich. i can think of like a thousand things (at least) that i could buy right now that would make me happy. also, being able to go to school because i love knowledge and not as a path to financial security would make me pretty fucking happy right now.

meh.

Monday, October 13, 2008

hooked on the white stuff

having surrendered most of the vices that ruled my formative years, it was with shock and dismay that i discovered a secret addiction that i didn't even know i had.

hello, my name is mandy, and i'm a sugar addict.
(for all of you who grew up in the tidewater area, cue pachelbel's canon in d and consider today my new beginning)

this foray into self awareness began innocuously enough. i started the south bitch diet because i wanted to lose ten pounds the quick way. having already written about my conflicting feelings concerning weight loss, i can now with all sincerity attribute my original impulse to three things:

1. watching "the hills"
2. reading us weekly
3. applying to graduate schools in l.a.

spare me the learning to love yourself lecture. it's really the third thing that's doing it. i've heard from more than one person that in order to live in l.a. you need really high self esteem (this was confirmed by the first two things). self-esteem is really not one of my strong points, but the schools are really good there...so i was thinking that by going on this diet i could not only jump start my metabolism but my self-esteem as well.

but i digress. so i started south bitch yesterday and the first phase drastically reduces sugar intake. basically you aren't eating anything that has sugar added and the sugar that naturally occurs in foods is severely limited. i can honestly say that halfway through the day, despite the fact that i had eaten twice as much at than i would have normally eaten in an entire day, i would have stabbed someone in heart with a fork for a cookie/piece of cake/chocolate/etc. and i don't usually eat very many of these things to begin with. but i do ALWAYS start my day with a caramel macchiato. always. and i usually have at least one sweet thing throughout the course of the day, even if it is in a very small portion.

however you feel/i was feeling about this diet, at this point my motivation has changed. it's no longer about losing weight, but beating my sugar dependency. it freaks me out that i can't go ONE DAY without sugar (i did though). i mean going without cigarettes is easier and i used to smoke like two packs/day. sadly, i've all but given them up as well, although i still smoke on occasion.

i guess i'm just not ready to face a world without sugar OR cigarettes.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

if it kills me........(subtitle: have you hugged a marxist today?)

i will do the following two things:

1.) Lose Twenty Pounds.

let me just preface this conversation by stating that i'm NOT one of those garishly overweight (and by that i mean morbidly obese) people that try to pass off their unhealthy shape as "curvy."

but here's the thing i've been struggling with lately. i don't hate my body with clothes off, only with clothes on. with clothes off i look really great (even to me and i'm VERY hard on myself), but apparently the way my body is shaped is no longer in style. i have an hour glass figure. no really, i do. even according to the circa 1960 issue of cosmopolitan magazine with sandra dee on the cover, my measurements are perfectly proportioned. unfortunately for me the people that dominate the clothing industry are spiteful bitches that design clothes that either make me look pregnant or open for business.

for the most part, i blame this on the unfair characterization of my body type. it has become associated with the sex industry and the body type it asserts for women. this is not an indictment of the sex industry. as far as i'm concerned if people want to make their money in this way, so long as it is free of coercion, more power to them. but i don't have breast implants and i haven't altered my body in any way. i just happen to look this way naturally. there's nothing i can do about it. i think it makes people uncomfortable. the fact that they look at me and think about sex (i'm not just making an allegation here, i am basing this statement on the nature and the number of unsolicited remarks i get about my body).

i find it extremely unfair that i have to choose between looking pregnant or looking open for business. often i opt for open for business. actually i don't really feel like i look open for business, i see it reflected back to me by the looks of others. why should i look fat just to make you more comfortable?

so i'm going to lose twenty pounds and see what that does to my body shape. i even bought the south beach diet book, which i felt really weird about. i've always tried really hard to resist the standards enforced by other people. in one way i think that if doing this will make me happier, then why not? but on the other hand i feel like i'm endorsing a lifestyle that promotes unrealistic measures of evaluation.

2.)Educate People on the Appropriate Application of Marxist Theory

the next person that comes up to me an makes some unfounded, uneducated, and/or untrue assertion about marxism might very well get slapped in the head. ok fine i'm a pacifist, so this might not happen, but i will be imagining it in my head while you talk nonsense to me about obama's marxist beliefs. let's get it straight, HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY. at least not in the way you or the other republicans are implying. i pretty much feel that if you haven't actually ever studied/read marx or marxist theorists, then you're out of your element.

and besides socialist/communist theory (marxist or otherwise) is about empowering people that have been unfairly exploited by the unjust manipulation of the market. so next time you're glad that you receive a fair wage...aren't forced to work 7 days/week for 18 hrs/day or else lose your job...have holidays off...don't have to start working in a factory at the age of 10...are allowed to form unions for collective bargaining purposes...don't owe your soul to the company store ...
if you are glad about ANY of these things...thank a marxist.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

authoritarian regimes are SO last century

friday night i watched the presidential debate. in fact, not only did i watch the debate, but i ended up all over the local news. i wasn't giving a comment or anything, it was just a picture of me watching the debates. i'm still not sure why of all the people there that it had to be my office mate and i on the news, but what are you gonna do...

having already stated my distaste for politics, some of you (and by 'some of you' i mean the three people that read this blog) might be left wondering why i watched the debate. i hadn't planned to. in fact, i was actively planning to NOT watch the debates. until, that is, mccain tried to weasel his way out of participating by suddenly claiming to have an interest in our rapidly disintegrating economy. which, by the way, is the political version of claiming you have to stay home and wash your hair instead of going out on a date you know well ahead of time will be disaster.

a few things about the debate... for anybody out there that was unsure, they didn't actually give any answers that literally translate into policy or action. televised debates just aren't about that. it's about who can pretend to answer questions that NOBODY wants to hear discussed in a truthful fashion and look composed while doing it. do YOU want to hear that our economy is about to collapse, nobody has the first clue what to do about it, and on top of that hatred for america is multiplying exponentially in countries that are on the verge of perfecting their nuclear capabilities? yeah...i didn't think so....

well mccain did show up. and proceeded to look not only elderly and sort of crazy, but a little bit foolish. where do i even start? his dental plate whistled when he spoke, he had a facial tick, and he looked like he was about to start crying. this twitchiness was exacerbated by his tie that reflected off his shirt like a piece of fruit stripe gum (blue raspberry flavor) on a blue metallic background. not since hitchcock's vertigo have apparel and mannerism worked so well together in creating a feeling of reeling nausea for the viewer.

and by the way, john mccain, as far as foreign policy is concerned we already have a 'league of democracies.' it's called the united nations (UN). people have the impression that the UN is a failed institution. well guess what, the main reason it fails is that america won't cooperate with their mandates. but we won't pull out either. we just prefer to keep it deadlocked and impotent. oh and here's another league of democracies. this one's called nato. they're not backing us whole heartedly either. so i suppose they just don't count.

and is anyone else concerned that obama mentioned finding AND KILLING (in these exact words) osama bin laden, not once, but twice? i guess that's how america rolls these days. actually i think this is how we've always gotten down, only now it's perfectly acceptable to say it out loud while the world watches. i'm still voting for him, as i believe he's the best shot we have at NOT getting nuked (not to mention he's got great teeth and is quite charming) but come on...

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

duck and cover

a very special thanks to my sister who sent me a super scary video montage of republican rhetoric. i would highly recommend it for the person that thinks the Cold War days of mutually assured destruction are over. but not for those of your friends who already spend way too much time considering the implications of nuclear holocaust (like myself, in case you were wondering). and also in case you were wondering, this is a very real reality for america if our foreign policy isn't drastically reconsidered.

i really haven't been that involved in that many conversations concerning the election. and to all the people that keep asking me "who should i vote for?" stop asking me that shit. (the answer is obama, by the way) it's not really my research area and i can't stand american politics. trust me when i say that the research in this field is, in most cases, beyond boring. the exception to this is social movement theory, which is actually a huge interest of mine. yes. i am still trying to figure out how to start the revolution. no. i don't know what it will look like. or when it will be happening. that's the thing about the revolution, you aren't going to be getting a save-the-date card. so stop fucking asking.

and besides, my telling you who you should vote for (and the answer is still obama) makes you the poster child for all the political elitists feeling that the average person is too stupid to vote. and based on the number of random people that have asked me this question, i'm starting to half-way believe this myself.

did i mention that the republican video montage was set to the soundtrack from "requiem for a dream?" i'm not sure whether it was thinking about the devastation of a nuclear attack or the thought of going ass to ass for a snort of h that did it, but my day is completely unsettled.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

revisionista

so right now i'm in the midst of writing my masters thesis, which is about as stressful an undertaking as any you could ever hope for (except for writing a dissertation, which i get the pleasure of thinking about as soon as this year is over). my approach to papers in the past has always been as follows:

1.) procrastinate as long as absolutely possible
2.) spend a protracted period of time (usually 1-2 days) freaking out and writing in a panic
3.) turn in paper while swearing to myself to NEVER AGAIN put doing something off that long
4.) forget about it completely (the paper and the stress)

apparently the relief of actually finishing the paper and not failing whatever seminar it was for acts like some sort of amnesia hormone (the kind that makes women forget the pain of childbirth so that they'll do it again and the human species won't become extinct), as i've repeated this process roughly a thousand times throughout my academic career. no revising. no editing. just extreme stress and extreme relief. followed by excessive drinking.

well...no such luck with the thesis. there just isn't time to procrastinate. it is a daily struggle that is sucking the life out of me one word at a time.

i'm just not sure revision is my thing really. i would much rather just start something new than have to reread and fix something i've already started. this probably extends to other areas of my life as well. take people, for example. once i'm done with someone, i'm done. end of story. i'm not one of those people that makes and breaks up a thousand times with another person. it just isn't in me. as a very smart person told me, sometimes you just have to take a permanent marker and cross people out of your book of life. i'm really good at this. (before anyone calls me out on the recent past, yes, there are notable exceptions which i have found very difficult to cross out of my book of life, but all and all a 97.6% success rate of elimination isn't that bad...i can graph that for you if you like)

in a way, writing a thesis is like having a relationship. an incredibly dysfunctional, abusive relationship that makes you cry everyday. but no one can see the marks it puts on you, so they don't really believe you when you tell them how bad it is. and you can't leave. because if you do, your career is over. people have asked me why put so much pressure on myself, especially this week when my body started physically rejecting the pressure i've been putting on myself. this rejection took the form of crippling muscle spasms in my back, which resulted in my throwing up every meal i ate for like four days. that's how much it hurt.

but i kept working through right through it. i'm not really sure why. part of it is that i have seen firsthand how bad life is when you're living paycheck to paycheck and i'll do whatever i have to do to not go through that. part of it is that i don't have a relationship to fall back on. or a wedding to look forward to. if i fail at my career, i have to admit that i'm a failure in both my personal and professional life. and i'm just ready to do that yet.

but it is getting better. the second draft of my proposal was on point. at least the work is paying off. my work that i did myself. and that is the best feeling in the world.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

(please don't) call me any, anytime

and it's a story that might bore you...but you have to listen to it anyway. so one of the things that bothers me to the point of distraction is when i get phone calls from numbers i don't recognize and that person fails to leave a message. this leaves me freaked out as to who it was/what they wanted/ what catastrophic event has occurred that would necessitate someone calling from a number i don't recognize and then prevent them from leaving a message.

it's really the last thing that is key here. in my mind, when there is gap in information which i cannot fill, i immediately jump to the worst case disaster scenario. death. apartment fires. horrific tragedies of any persuasion. all of these things become not only possible, but extremely plausible and acceptable explanations of mystery calls. i fully realize that this is a personal problem that is particular to myself. well, possibly others experience this, though obviously not the degenerate perpetrators of these types of calls.

i hit up the emily post institute to see if i could at least validate my distress with etiquette, but apparently there's no mannerly obligation to leave a message. although after seeing how sadly misinformed they are about proper tipping , i would have to be highly skeptical of any information they had to offer. (20% IS THE NEW 15%. not 15%-20%. not 10% at a buffet. 20%. anything less and you aren't worth the server's time...just trust me on this one)

back to point...mystery callers have the potential for throwing my entire day off course...i love getting phone calls, but pretty please, with a cherry on top, leave a fucking message.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

response to tb

first of all, thanks for reading my blog. right now you're the only one who has. thanks also for the thought provoking questions.
1.) i'm not sure how many different neuroses i have, it seems like something new everyday.
2.) hmm...my fav celebrity...i'm going to have to break this down a little bit...my favorite celebrity of all time would have to be andy warhol no contest...my favorite celebrity to read about right now is heidi montag as it seems that every time she opens her mouth it's, um, entertaining...my favorite intellectual celebrity is slavoj zizek as he is without a doubt the greatest living philosopher and quite possibly the greatest contemporary philosopher....my fav celebrity just because they make me extremely curious(and slightly perplexed) from the theoretical perspective is mickey avalon....my like for him is closely connected with my like for zizek, more on that some other time...
3.) no, it isn't bad. it's human nature and i'm not sorry.

oh, and in response to my sister's question of "who would want to read a blog that's all about you all the time?" i would have to say.... who wouldn't?

hand sanitizer stigmatization and the comfort of repetitive action (or the trouble with OCD)

ok....so one of the things i struggle with on a daily basis is my tendency to give in to manifestations of my obsessive-compulsive personality traits. at this point in my life, obsessive-compulsive desires are something that i have just come to accept about myself and i now recognize the link between them and my anxiety. i spent many years self-medicating, but now i simply try to work around them for the most part by making every effort to engage in proactive behavior modification in order to maintain. this is more problematic than you might think, as when you're high functioning most people aren't even aware that you're having trouble. most of the time people assume things like you're super shy/really quiet/ not listening/not paying attention to them. that's not it, i'm just trying not to bug out.

although i do try to not just give into the obscene comfort i derive from repetitive action (it lulls my brain into the most sublimely tranquil state), there are certain behaviors that i'm just not ready to give up. one of the things i'm really into is hand sanitizer. i'm not really a germaphobe per se, i think it's more of the action of using sanitizer. while i don't fear germs, i do love the feeling of germ free hands. usually i just buy the generic drugstore kind because it's the cheapest and i go through a lot of sanitizer. however, a couple of weeks ago i was shopping with my mother an she bought me a huge bottle of designer hand sanitizer. it smells really great, which i like, but it has these blue beads suspended throughout that i think are supposed to be vitamin capsules (sorry for the poor description but i'm really not even sure what these things are much less how to describe them).

so the other day i was working and it's quite stressful at the moment and i guess i was using the sanitizer frequently throughout the duration of the day. it was all good and i was really getting into having super clean feeling hands that also smelled like vanilla. all of the sudden i started looking at my hands and i noticed that they were tinted blue. i couldn't figure out what was going on. and then it hit me. the vitamin capsules. needless to say, the the stigmatization of having hands that were tinted blue (which wouldn't wash off entirely) completely undermined any satisfaction i was deriving from the sanitizer. such is my life.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

my blog

so after the past year of critically reading and judging the blogs of others, i have decided to take a great leap forward and write one of my own. i actually write all the time, but sadly the manner in which i discuss and even what i discuss is almost always constrained in some way by academia.

my sole purpose in writing this is so that i can write only about things that i want to write about. this could include anything from celebrity gossips to my own neuroses (of which there are MANY). the point is that here, in this blog, it's all about me. all the time. that's why it's my vanity project and not yours.
 
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