Sunday, April 30, 2006

I know, I know.

I apologize to those of you who call me on exam weekends - of which this is another - and find I have nothing to say. I am totally flat and boring and I hate it. This is because I'm cramming facts about diseases tissue nematodes cause into my head, not because I don't love you. I love you, I love that you call, I can't wait to see you again and I love what you've done with your boyfriend's hair.

Best quote from classmate on Friday: "Dude, you *totally* can have double-stranded RNA, it's the sugar that's double in DNA, not the strands, I'm *tellin'* ya."

He's right. You can, and it is. And I really can't wait to see you.

handy




So I had the hand "surgery," although you could hardly call it that so crude it was, a few weeks ago and I'm now 100%. It's totally weird to have the full use of my right hand. He basically numbed my hand, shoved a fairly blunt needle straight down into my palm, and wedged it back and forth, opening up a hole in the sheath that goes around the finger tendon. I wanted to take photos, but he wouldn't let me. Once the claims go through, I'm getting back on the roller derby. I got a name figured out - Astrid Zombie. You like?

Sedona





Last weekend I was amongst the red earth, new agers, and well-heeled retirees in lovely Sedona, Arizona. I missed you, Bonnie and Anne! Sedona's known as the home of spiritual vortices, so psychics and healers and astrologers whatnot abound. I know it's just a prismatic effect, but doesn't that middle photo weird you out just a little? I didn't notice it til I got home. Uh-huh. That's right. Vortices.

Re. the shot of me: No, I haven't joined the PLO, the sun was beating down and it was the only hat in the store that didn't have rhinestones.

The bee shot is genuine - apparently it impaled itself on a cactus and died there. Sometimes that happens.

I went to a psychic while in Sedona with the idea of doing a past life regression (Napoleonic courtesan? Etruscan astronomer? Depression-era dirt farmer?) Anyway, I got in there and the idea left me, and I decided to ask after Ivan. He's cool with the afterlife, not coming back as a dog (and he was hardly just a dog last time he was here), and he thinks Maisie is funny-looking. Which she is, so I bought it completely.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

bow chicka bow wow

In the process of creating the last post, I was on Drugstore.com, and whaddya know, there's a Sexual Well Being tab and I had some, uh, free time so. Good stuff, people. It's a great site for this kind of thing -- more products, good prices, and better interface than Good Vibrations. Plus, there's a Sex Furniture link.

(Of course, I immediately analyzed the product copywriting on the Sex Furniture, being an old hack at this sort of thing. It's creative, I'll give them that, but the execution, only in places mind you, is more "cute" than "close the sale." Good tagline though.)

product placement II

Ditch your current razors ladies, I've found the Valhalla of blades. Schick Intuition.

I got a free razor at the day spa in Sedona and holy cripes am I ever smooth. I'm a frequent* shaver, so believe me, I have tried them all. Anne brought me over to the Venus a few years ago, and it's been good times, but razing technology has progressed and it's time for me to fly.

Not only is it a close shave, but it has this conditioning bar that surrounds the razor, so you don't have to lather up. And it doesn't get gunky - just rinse from time to time. I'm telling you, girls -- fast and easy -- just like you.

You're welcome.

*Note: I'm a frequent shaver because I have Standards, not because I'm hairy. Seriously. You've seen me. I barely have eyebrows.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

where T&A went wrong

I hereby announce I'm moving away from my former support of pole dancing and stripping for your average lady not on the street. I've been thinking a lot about how stripping and other sexual displays have seeped into mainstream western culture, and I think they're spoiling what used to be a good time.

This weekend I found myself fascinated by the Girls Gone Wild ads all over cable. They do look pretty hot. Except every now and then, when a sweet young thing is being encouraged to lift her top, you notice her pupils are dilated, you can't miss her slight drunken teeter, and you read panic and entrapment all over her, even as she goes ahead and lifts that top. Because she's been dared to, she thinks she's flying in the face of convention, she thinks it's liberating. Mostly she thinks "whatever." I read up on the GGW mogul - who's a genius - because he's tapped directly into that Gen X/Y aesthetic of whatever and made millions. Smart. But girls, you gotta learn that the achievement of that T-shirt, getting that camera gaze to fix on you - that isn't flouting convention, that shit's been happening for years. That isn't power, honey. It's the precise opposite.

The stripper pole aerobics thing plays into this too. Because pole dancing isn't exercise or art - or if it is, it's a smattering of exercise or art within a whole of titillation, display, and objectification. Lessons are billed as an expression of femininity and sexuality. But pole dancing culturally refers to prostitution. Why do I, Miss Average Girlfrend, feel any compulsion, desire, or need to refer to prostitution? I honestly don't think I do. This coming from me, who lined up "exotic dance" (stripping) lessons for a friend's bachelorette party. Which was super fun. But okay, you learn to roll your hips and slide down a wall. What does your guy offer in return for the girl's display? 9 times out of 10, nothing. Approval. Pfft. Who needs that? No, seriously. Who does?

Men think pole dancing and stripping are sexy, and why wouldn't they? Objectification and humiliation are always fun when you know the tables will never be turned on you. But go ahead, turn the tables, just to see. Yep. Just as I thought. Not sexy. Men stripping, men dancing while stripping - to me, not sexy. Comedic, maybe. It's all just so terribly simple-minded.

As are traditional bachelor/ette parties. The men's parties are just dopey - I really don't know where idiocy is topped. I've heard stories of strippers who were really prostitutes which freaked the guys out, serial vomiting, horrible cases of the DT's that last days. More importantly, of the last 2 bachelor parties I've heard about in the last 2 months, nobody ever said they actually had a good time. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Traditional bachelorette parties - it's women imitating men, and it feels false. I've done it before and I'll attend in good graces, but it's kind of boring and totally non-titillating. Mauri offered a true re-vision of/to the bachelor/ette party. Invite every last one of your exes - the good, the bad, the what was I thinking - out for cocktails. Just you and them, and lots of drinks. Now *that* is a rite of passage.

By the by, go ahead and strip. Install a pole in the bedroom. Hit the skin bars. Be my guest. I'll never forbid my partner the strip clubs on bachelor weekends, I won't picket, I don't care, live and let live. I may think you benightedly unoriginal though.

Monday, April 17, 2006

upward failure

I'm currently and blessedly spared them, but this article in Salon made me shiver: My co-worker is driving me insane! So been there. I suppose we all have.

I don't want to talk about work here in general, much less name names, or do any of that other dumb shit that eventually may prevent you from getting hired, so I won't. But I will say this to Cary Tennis' advice: it's great up to the point of suggesting that the complainer bond with other employees over the issue of a bad coworker. I've been on the inside of these little corporate cliques and they always default to the incompetent -- because the incompetent knows they're lucky to have a job at all, and so they don't make waves.

All those trips to management and human resources that the complainer describes - man, that behavior eats up a lot more corporate resources than one lazy incompetent drone. Firing someone takes even more resources -- expecting that to happen is like expecting that I'll convert to Scientology.

It doesn't matter if you do better work or put in more time than the lazy dumbshit, because corporations are not about rewarding excellence. Corporations are about headcount, they're about job creation, they're about supporting the economy. So if long-term employment is your goal, the best strategy is to do your work, follow the rules, be nice, and don't complain.

If management is your goal, it seems to me that mere affability with a good dose of diplomacy is all that's required. Oh, and attractiveness.

I'm glad I'm out of corporate life. Organized healthcare is gonna be SO much better!

Sunday, April 16, 2006

The 80's are officially back

The New Luxury Cocktails

Saturday, April 15, 2006

i am now Wonder Showzen damaged

thanks to Skott, I've been initiated into Wonder Showzen, which is to be found somewhere on MTV2, I dunno where I got the DVD off him. It's a faux kids-show (meaning so very very not for kids), Sesame Street for adults who love South Park. Totally offensive and hilarious.

personal highlights:

* when asked what love is, 5 year old answers "a neurochemical hoax"

* roving "Beat Kids" reporter, age 8, at the racetrack

* cultural awareness piece on Mexico which featured "Eat Nachos" as a theme

* Finger Force cartoon about boringly average preteen girls who discover the transformational power of bulimia

* the always, always funny puppet sex skits


I could go on. It's relentlessly funny. Find it & watch it.

mTV2 page
http://www.mtv2.com/#series/14484

Thursday, April 13, 2006

more science fun

Waaay back in the early aughts, I used to follow a site called thespark.com, which is now dead and gone. It was basically an early & detailed blog by witty knuckleheads who had a penchant for bizarre/gross/humorous science projects. My favorites were:

* Stinky Feet Project wherein one guy (in his early 20's, natch) tries to give himself the worse case of athlete's foot he possibly can (via trips to the local Y shower room and seashore), and documents it with photographs. His mother finds out and ships him off to his pediatrician. Hilarious.

* Fat Project wherein a young man and woman are recruited to try to gain 30 pounds in 30 days in order to win money, with daily photos posted. Somehow or other an apartment is provided for the contestants, the thing gets on local radio, and pizzas and doughuts and whatnot are sent over to the Fatty McChubsters. Awesome, awesome photos - frightening to watch the differences in where the guy & the girl put on the weight. Which they indeed do.

* The Date My Sister Project wherein the poor guy's sister is set up, stalked, even has a camera installed in her ceiling fan unbeknownst to her, all for the sake of humor. She's way smarter than him, though.

When bored, check it out.

http://web.archive.org/web/20010330123058/www.thespark.com/content/sparkive/sparkive.html

allergies/IBS/asthma and hookworms

We saw a film on worms today in microbiology -- great shots of guinea worms coming out the feet and some 10 year old getting a big ol' honkin fly larvae pulled out of her neck.

One segment was of particular interest. There are researchers working on the idea that because most of the world has eradicated hookworms and such through clean drinking water, the result is that we have decreased immunity and increased allergies. Allergies, asthma, colitis, and irritable bowel syndrome are definitely on the uptick, and some think it's because we've severed an interdependent relationship with intestinal fauna.

All these cases were covered in the film:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/3287733.stm

literary history for the day



I just watched Nora, which is based on a feminist history of Nora Barnacle Joyce, wife of James. Ewan McGregor plays Joyce, and so naturally there are several graphic sex scenes - does that guy do *any* movies unless he can fling his flute around?

Anyway, I went to Wikipedia to refresh my memory of Joyce history, and found this quite poignant entry on Nora & James' daughter, Lucia, whose photos & artwork are above:

Lucia Joyce, daughter of Irish writer James Joyce and Nora Barnacle, was born in Trieste on July 26, 1907, speaking Italian as her first language. She studied ballet while she was a teenager, becoming good enough to train with Isadora Duncan. She started to show signs of mental illness in 1930, around the time she began casually dating Samuel Beckett. Her deteriorating mental state caused him to call off the relationship, and in 1934, Carl Jung took her in as a patient. Soon after, she was diagnosed with schizophrenia at a Burghölz psychiatric clinic in Zurich. She died in a mental hospital in Northampton, England, in 1982.

Wow.

...


Imagine Carl Jung of all people treating schizophrenia.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

like everyone else, weather-related ennui

I will not gripe more about the weather, I will tell you about Mandonna.

I went expecting a tranny show. It is not that. It is a most excellent band led by a straight guy with full-on heavy metal beard/ hair who happens to be wearing Madonna costumes and sings like Chris Cornell. In other words, he friggin' rips it. There were many moments to Cherish (Hee!), but the opening of "Like a Prayer" with Black Sabbath's War Pigs was probably top of my list. I've seen a lot of campy, I've seen a lot of tribute, but this was really perversely hilarious. Check 'em out.

Friday, April 07, 2006

they don't come any tougher

My mom's taken on a part-time retirement job: she's going to track down sexual offenders working in the Illinois healthcare system. Sounds like a nice, relaxing pasttime for the golden years, doesn't it?

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

6 degrees

My *#^@% insurance company is disputing a claim, so I'm Googling to try to find info on my therapist of 4 years ago. I find her on the Find Jerry Tang page, of all places. If you live in SF, you've seen this guy's picture plastered all over the city. He's a 40ish father of 2 with a history of strokes who disappeared. His family's doing a huge media blitz. Here's the bit about Linda:

"“[Jerry] had to bear with a certain social pressure,” he said. “He knew that people who knew him were naturally constantly assessing him, wondering if he was the same person as the Jerry before the stroke.”

Although Linda Hee was Tan’s therapist over the last few years, she refused to assist in the search for Tang, citing doctor-patient confidentiality.

“I found this response profoundly odd and disheartening in view of what’s happening,” said Austin.

Hee had no comment."

As hard as the situation is -- good for Linda. You have to be able to trust your doctor.

here's the Find Jerry Tang page:

http://seedwiki.com/wiki/jerry_tang/

Sunday, April 02, 2006

i will sell this house today. i will sell this house today.

I couldn't help but picture Annette Bening in American Beauty this weekend -- this email explains why:

******

Dear Ms. Gorsoe,

I'm a resident of the Bella Vista area. On Saturday morning I drove past the corner of Foster & Imola, and noticed that the Napa Valley Horseman's Association had put out a sign directing people to their trailer clinic. When I returned from my errand 30 minutes later, I was dismayed to see that their sign was completely blocked by a Coldwell Banker open house sign bearing your name.

I find this completely obnoxious. There is plenty of room at that intersection for 2, 3 or even 4 signs. Why was there any need for you, or whoever works for you, to plop your sign right in front of the Horseman Association's sign? Their sign was completely blocked.

Part of being a business person -- but especially a realtor -- is being a good neighbor. The Horseman's Association worked hard to promote their event, and your rudeness detracted from it.

You certainly owe the Napa Valley Horseman's Association an apology. I'll be sending them a copy of this letter so I can rest assured that they get that apology, and so they know that as far as I'm concerned, their presence in my neighborhood is far more welcome than yours.

******

I'll keep you posted on any response I may get. 10 to 1 says she blames a minion.