Archive for July, 2005

Why Are There So Many Tampons in Our House?

July 27, 2005

Why are there so many tampons in our house? I was digging around for more pads in our bathroom cabinet this morning, trying to clear space around the boxes and boxes of tampons tumbling out of the cabinet and spilling onto the floor. Why are there so many tampons in our house? I don’t use them. My roommate hardly ever uses them. Yet we have amassed 4-5 boxes of tampons and have no pads left but the diaper-like overnights.

Alas, terrorist bombings have not yet reached Chicago (knock on wood), so it’s not like we’ve got any local wounds to staunch, either. But I suppose we’ll be prepared, in any case.

Why are there so many tampons in our house?

I need some more coffee.

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Why Are There So Many Tampons in Our House?

July 27, 2005

Why are there so many tampons in our house? I was digging around for more pads in our bathroom cabinet this morning, trying to clear space around the boxes and boxes of tampons tumbling out of the cabinet and spilling onto the floor. Why are there so many tampons in our house? I don’t use them. My roommate hardly ever uses them. Yet we have amassed 4-5 boxes of tampons and have no pads left but the diaper-like overnights.

Alas, terrorist bombings have not yet reached Chicago (knock on wood), so it’s not like we’ve got any local wounds to staunch, either. But I suppose we’ll be prepared, in any case.

Why are there so many tampons in our house?

I need some more coffee.

An Open Letter to Viagra Guy

July 26, 2005

Do you really need to listen to sports scores and track the minute by minute countdown (from 60 minutes) of the shuttle launch on the speakers of your computer without using headphones and then narrate your experiece for the rest of us at 8 o’clock in the morning when some of us, who require 8-10 hours of sleep, only got 6 last night because their landlady was showing the apartment until 9 o’clock at night and me and my roommate went out to see a movie?

Do you need to comment on every drawing that comes back from Jonas and tell us how hard and tough it is cause he’s such a stickler for actually making sure you get the drawing right? Do you have to sit in this shared space (there are four of us in here) and call you pharmacist for more Viagra prescriptions and haggle with your credit card company about late charges and tell us all about how tough it’s going to be for you to get to the bank after work, like the rest of us don’t have lives, too? Can you do this on your lunch break, or outside from your cell phone? Are you just a closet exhibitionist who gets off on that sort of thing, intruding on the personal spacing-out of others that gets them through their work days?

I despise sitting back here. I can’t fucking wait until these goddamn uploads are done and I can disconnect from this T-1 connection.

I Hate My Job, Monday Edition

July 25, 2005

The coffeemaker at work is broken.

You’d think this would be enough tragedy for one day. I’m stuck here in the back of the office with a bunch of architect temps, including Viagra Guy, who felt it neccessary to call his pharmacist from work and request that they give him more Viagra pills because, “I have more activity than other people.” He also just talks a lot in general about things like the weather, droughts, and local sporting events. He bores the crap out of me. I keep my headphones on and the music loud and ignore him as best as possible.

I’ve been stuck here in the back because we have a lot of uploading to do, and we have a cable connection back here, so I’m uploading from two computers a laptop and a desktop. I hate this job. I hate the repetition. This isn’t even my goddamn project, it’s someone else’s, and yet, *I’m* the one stuck on two computers? What the fuck is up with that? The laptop is now giving me shit this morning, and I have to keep restarting it. I’m irritated at work, I hate this job.

I spent all weekend packing and moving stuff up to the 3rd floor apartment. Me and Jenn had a short window on Friday, and were hauling stuff up two flights of stairs in 90+ degree heat until nine at night. All in all, I’m happy about the move and love the upstairs space, but I’m ready to just get all that shit done. Hopefully the current tenant will move out a littl early and I can haul more stuff up during the week. B will be in town this weekend to help.

And let me tell you, 1642 books is all well and good until you have to pack them up and haul them box by bloody fucking box up two flights of stairs. We hauled about 1500 books on Friday.

To help alleviate some of this stress, I’ve finally joined a gym again, a much more local one, that’s got kickboxing and pilates classes as well. That’s a big load off my mind. I’ve been missing gym work, and I know that’s been seriously wearing on me these last few months.

I’m also bleeding like a fucking lamb at the block, but hey, I’m bleeding. Got my follow-up PP appointment on Friday, which’ll be nice. Still happy with the IUD; when I look at my other options (weight gain, depression, mood swings) compared to these ones (blood and pain), the blood and pain really isn’t so bad. Motrin works wonders.

I’m behind on a lot of other stuff (writing, reading, Arabic), but I’ve been so stressed out this last week I just really don’t care. This week, of course, I’ll need to start caring, and particularly once the move is finished, things need to get back on track.

Ce la vie.

It’s the Weekend

July 22, 2005

::collapse::

Beer… beeeeerr… must… have…. beeeeeerrrrr….

Am I Fat Or Sexy? (Implying One Can’t Be Both?)

July 21, 2005

Interesting experiment by Marie Claire magazine:

We photographed a gorgeous, size-14 model in a neutral pose and made the unretouched photos into two mobile billboards. Then we gave each billboard a vastly different message: one confident (“I think I’m sexy. Do you?”), one unsure (“I think I’m fat. Do you?”). We asked everyone who saw these billboards to visit MarieClaire.com and tell us what they thought. Here’s how 4,000 people reacted.

Is it the Weekend Yet?

July 21, 2005

No? No?

Someone called the house this morning at 5am – THREE TIMES. Finally, on the third call, someone with a slight Irish accent actually replied to my angry “HELLO!!!” and said they’d been trying to fax something three times (“I KNOW!!!” I said), and wasn’t this New York?

“No, this is a RESIDENCE in CHICAGO at 5 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING.”

Like many Brits, he was deeply apologetic, but my alarm was going off in twenty minutes, and fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I’m so ready for the weekend. Where are you, Friday?

Is it the Weekend Yet?

July 21, 2005

No? No?

Someone called the house this morning at 5am – THREE TIMES. Finally, on the third call, someone with a slight Irish accent actually replied to my angry “HELLO!!!” and said they’d been trying to fax something three times (“I KNOW!!!” I said), and wasn’t this New York?

“No, this is a RESIDENCE in CHICAGO at 5 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING.”

Like many Brits, he was deeply apologetic, but my alarm was going off in twenty minutes, and fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I’m so ready for the weekend. Where are you, Friday?

Thoughts on Roe

July 20, 2005

If they have the balls to do it, it might go something like this:

1) The legality of abortion will get kicked back to the states, so blue states will have the procedure, some of the bigger red and mostly southern states won’t, and I’ll be smuggling in terrified pregnant teenagers from Indiana into Illinois and fending off further homegrown terrorists bombing health clinics. We’ll have our own underground railroad. How charming.

2) Abortion is totally illegal, and we get 1.9 million more unwanted children every year. This will likely go the way of Prohibition, so we’ll have ten years of women dying on tables and in back alleys and trying to self-perform abortions. Ten or twenty thousand dead women a year should do it; get a million real, live women who are now dead and talk about *their* deaths in front of a higher court, and we’ll go back to allowing legal abortion. Of course, a lot of women, maybe you, your sister, your wife, your girlfriend, will have to die to get that to happen, but hey, that’s politics.

It’s not like politics are personal or anything. I mean, after all, this has nothing to do with me, or you, or anybody else.

Just politics.

In the meantime, there’s a war on, the country’s a bazillion dollars in debt, and most people don’t have health care. I’m so glad we’ve picked something like this to spend all of our time and money on, instead of letting a quite good law continue to provide a quite good service that results in less death and complication than actual pregnancy.

When are we going to go after the real villains? Why am I the terrorist?

Thoughts on Food Addiction

July 20, 2005

Though I’ve never been a classically small person (which I’m generally OK with), I put on about 70 lbs between the ages of 16 and 18, due mostly, looking back on it, to getting on and then off the pill. Add in some depression (also partly caused by the pill) and a bad relationship, and I ballooned. It was an issue of never-ceasing hunger, the feeling that no matter how much I ate, I was still unsatisfied, still looking for something more and better.

I’d been an overeater before that, but all those triggers at once turned me into a raving lunatic, and that’s the period when my binge eating really took off. At 16, I had a car, and made my own money, so I could run into a convienence store and feed my cravings at all hours. The binges were definitely triggered by high stress, and the overeating was largely pill-based.

What I did to slough off all that excess pill and depression weight quickly so I could move around in my own skin again was to get on the Atkins diet. I lost 40lbs in four months (and kept that off because I’d merely gotten back to my set point anyway) and got up the self-confidence to go ahead and go bike riding several days a week and up my exercise routine in a “fun” way – not thinking of them as workouts, but just days where I’d go out to have fun.

By the time I hit college, I was down a total of 60lbs, and after the first couple months of college, I lost another 10lb and was at my fighting weight of about 175lbs or so. That meant going to the gym 3-6 days a week for 30-60 minutes. By that time, I’d modified my diet so I was eating wheat bread, lots of fruits and veggies, meats of all sorts, and as summer rolled around and I started bike riding a lot, I had no trouble going out for ice cream and pizza once a week.

What I remember most about my time in Alaska is how happy I was, and I know a lot of that had to do with my diet, and all that bike riding. Add that to the fact that I had a boat load of money and not a care in the world, and yea… I was damn happy.

The trouble is that I’ve been raised with bad habits, and during times of high stress, I still haven’t found another way to deal with that stress besides eating. I’ve gotten better in that I don’t binge eat so much anymore (my project for the year), but I’ll still turn to shit food when the going is tough, as I did in South Africa. As I’ve done the last couple of months (though every time I do it, it’s to a lesser and lesser degree. This is a positive sign!).

But I’ve gotten stressed and lazy, and I can’t afford new clothes, so I’ve gotta cut back for a bit to get things under control. When my world is out of control, my eating goes there too, and I have to cut it quick before it becomes an issue again.

I’m cutting my drinking down to a couple beers or some whiskey one night a week, which always helps, and I’m back to reasonable low-carb (brown rice and sweet potatoes are OK), no sugar. I’m on day two of this, and today was the office “bagel break” which turned out to be a heaping tray of danishes.

I hate this place.

The cravings are always the worst the first few days after I’m trying to break my white bread and sugar addiction. I wanted to dive into the whole platter of danishes and spend the rest of the day eating.

The problem with me and sugary sweets available on demand is that I can never eat just one, or half of one. I’d love to be one of those people who could just cut down portions instead of eliminating nearly an entire food group and all sugar, but I’m just not. I have to go cold turkey. There are certain foods I’ll binge on, and I have to avoid those at all costs, or I’m going to be dropping money I don’t have on new, bigger, clothes I can’t afford.

I think I’m beginning to move into the watching-my-weight-for-economic-reasons place. Which, actually, is pretty damn cool. I’m not hating myself. I don’t feel I’m unlovable just as I am, I just realize that if I don’t get a handle on myself again, I’m going to have to buy new clothes.

And this morning on the bus, I noticed that the world was looking a little clearer than usual, a little brighter. I recognized the feeling, because it was what I had in Alaska when I was really taking care of myself. Ah, sweet happiness, a clear head.

I always feel better when I cut out processed food. It really sucks, goddammit, because damn, it’s so good to eat that food. So, so, good. But then there’s this feeling, this great high I get when my body’s running a little cleaner, and damn, I don’t want to eat those danishes if they take this away…

The sad thing is that knowing, intellectually, that the crap food won’t make me feel any better, in fact, will make me feel worse, doesn’t help with the actual physical craving for a thing. It’s like I have a gaping black hole inside of me waiting to be filled.

And it’s going to take a week before those cravings subside. And it’s a bitch of a week.

Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older is that everything is changeable. Getting back into a rut doesn’t mean you’re doomed to stay there. Many states are temporary. You get back up and start going again, you get to the place you want to be.

Falling isn’t dying. It’s not over until you’re dead.