The Books That Describe My Life

In school I was: Running with Scissors (Augusten Burroughs)

People might be surprised I’m: Totally Disgusting (Bill Wallace)

I will never be: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Stieg Larsson)

My fantasy job is: To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee)

At the end of a long day I need: Reasons to Live (Amy Hempel)

I hate it when: Oranges are Not the Only Fruit (Jeanette Winterson)

Wish I had: Great Expectations (Charles Dickens)

My family reunions are: Love Medicine (Louise Erdrich)

At a party you’d find me with: James and the Giant Peach (Roald Dahl)

I’ve never been to: The House on Mango Street (Sandra Cisneros)

A happy day includes: Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs (Chuck Klosterman)

Motto I live by: Don't Sleep with Your Drummer (Jen Sincero)

On my bucket list: Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls (David Sedaris)

In my next life, I want to be: Yertle the Turtle (Dr. Seuss)

Beginning Biking Day Two

Day two was so much better than day one. I bought a padded bike seat, skipped wearing the backpack and avoided the evil pedestrian bridge. And my friend, a seasoned cyclist, accompanied me on a ride that ended up totaling 3 miles. And I feel leaps and bounds better than I did on Sunday with my one mile torture session.

I'm really crabby post-ride, but that might be do to other factors, like I think I'm about to ride the crimson wave.

Beginning Biking, Day One

Last time I rode a bike was approximately 2006 or 2007. So, about 6 to 7 years ago, maybe more.

I got a new job, which is within biking distance, and because there's no parking, it sort of requires a non-automobile commute.

Got my bike all fixed up by my good friend, and took my first test ride.

Distance of about one mile, lots and lots of coasting. Worst part was biking to the top of the pedestrian/bike bridge. Thought I was going to die. My ass hurt the entire time...well, not my ass, but more like where my thighs meet my vaginal area. My legs went numb. I feel like I'm going to vomit. I took about a 5 minute break at the top of the bridge and then went back down, riding the brakes the entire way because I'm so terrified.

I hope this feeling of puking, numb legs and sore ass is temporary. Is there an "It Gets Better" video for riding your bike?

Ode to the Pink Warrior

Is every single person who has ever gotten cancer been "strong" and "brave" and whatnot? There has to be at least a handful of people who were frightened and weak.

It's not like if I suddenly got cancer tomorrow I'd turn into a warrior woman with a pink bandanna around my head.

Maybe I hate the color pink. Maybe I'd be too scared to go to the doctor. Maybe giving me a Beanie Baby that claims I am beautiful and tough isn't what would help me at all and just make me feel worse because, for one, I'm not six and for two, I don't need to be beautiful or strong, I need to be allowed to be vulnerable. Even if it makes you feel uncomfortable because there isn't a bracelet that says "scaredy cat" on it at Hallmark.

I think we've over-used certain terms when it comes to people with terminal illness. We've pigeonholed them into superhero status, and while surviving such an illness is an incredible and life changing experience, they are, after all, people. And furthermore, the ones who don't survive might have battled harder than the survivors. "You can beat this!" Um, maybe you can't. Fight on, but lets quit it with all the generic empowerment garbage. It's not helping.

We need to back off a little bit and allow people to feel the full spectrum of their feelings. And definitely knock it off with the cutesy shit.

Yikes, Little Dude

So my son has somehow gone from the passive, shy little sweet angel to the kid who pulls hair.  I think it's that he changed day care providers this week.  His former provider, who he'd been seeing for over a year and a half, had an older boy who was the dominant one of the bunch.  His new day care provider has a child who is just as passive as my little guy WAS.  I think that little guy has decided that he needs to be the boss.  But I wish he wasn't such a jerk about it.  Hair pulling?  Pinching?  Dude, seriously.

The Cycle of the Shit Boat

It's a vicious cycle...and I hate it.  They cut our wages, they take away our jobs.  Then we feel like we have no choice but to dress our children with clothing made overseas by children, which takes money out of the pockets of Americans, which puts those Americans in the same boat.  We feel like we have no choice but to eat cheap, factory farm beef and processed food, which puts the local family farmer with integrity, who doesn't abuse his animals or his land, out of a job.  And he too hops in this Shit Boat.  And it's a hard place to be.  Stuck between your values and your reality.  It's soul-crushing, really.  What is the solution? 

Poor People Are Just the Worst

All this poor people bashing from the right is getting infuriating.  Especially considering that it's THEIR FAULT that we have so many "poor" people!  We can't all sell our souls to Satan for a little Koch money.  Some of us have to work for a living...but your policies have shipped jobs overseas, busted up the unions that helped us recieve a decent wage and obliterated the economy, kicked us out of our homes...and now you have the audacity to BLAME us?  To call us racoons and dogs and pieces of shit?  FUCK.  YOU.  

I look forward to the revolution. 

(comic from www.nataliedee.com)