Perils of assimilation

If only life came with subtitles.

Thursday, April 30, 2009


There are people in this world that don't like Fargo?? I'm not saying it's my favorite movie, but it's got everything a good movie needs: love, hate, accents, Steve Buscemi, hilarity, woodchippers.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Body Image

I work with a few girls of the younger set, who are just about to graduate from high school. I like working with Lin and Samantha, they're fun and silly, and very nice. I don't usually think of them as younger than me. They are, in general, very mature people.

Sometimes they make comments about themselves that I remember making when I was 17/18; comments about how they hate their bodies, how they need to lose weight, how their life would be so much better if they had nice skin or bigger boobs (actually, that was the opposite in my case. I always wished my tits were significantly smaller). I remember how much I hated my looks, and how much of my identity was tied up in it.

I started wondering: when did this change? When did I stop worrying about my body? and Why?

Frankly, I was a little disturbed that I couldn't pinpoint that moment.

Often, the media gets blamed for young women's poor body image. Next time your at the doctor's office, or at your nieghbor's apartment, flip through that copy of People. They spend a ridiculous amount of ink and paper criticising the bodies of famous women and men. But let's not put the blame squarely on the media, there's more to the equation than just the scapegoat.

I remember telling my mom how I hated my looks, and I remember her telling me how people called her "Twiggy" and made fun of her small breasts. It never made me feel any better about myself, how could she understand when I had the exact opposite problem? I took no comfort in my mother's words because I think I wanted to believe I was ugly.

I went through a phase in middle school where I wore the ugliest clothes I could find, to make myself the pinnicle of hidiousness. All or nothing, I said. I hated my nose, my weight, my breasts, my skin.

We're told: love yourself! We're never told how. People start talking about masturbation and how healthy it is for you. Now, the women I've talked to, they didn't have an orgasm for years. Some weren't even sure that they had a clit. It's unimaginably frustrating to be told how amazing you're supposed to feel, and not feel that. You start to think that you're not normal. And no one comes along to tell you that everything's fine. Then sex gets thrown in the mix. It's so awkward, you're so shy. It's nerve-wracking.

Anybody got a story to share?

Sunday, April 19, 2009

I Can't!

No more Dante! Please! I have to go back and revise a paper, and that means looking at Inferno once again. I can't take it anymore, no more guelphs and ghibellines, no more contrapasso, no more Beatrice and Virgil! I'll take the damn C on the paper, just don't make me look at this stuff anymore, PLEASE.

Cloudy Days

Feeling a little down, so I'm reading the Fart Party. Julia's boozing ways always make me crack a smile, except when I go back and read the Oliver comics. They make me wish my boyfriend was around to be a nerd with. 5 more days.

I'm so glad I live with Romina, she's probably the most adorable roommate ever. She loves to wash dishes! I would never have known Milwaukee has a salsa club if it wasn't for her. I'm terrible at it, but usually the dance partner is ok being patient, and helps me along. I find I enjoy the music too. I'm frustrated sticking to the salsa step; I want to dance how I want to! I'm starting to hear the diffference between Latin American accents. Romina's Argentinian spanish sounds like a lyrical, bouncy italian. There's lots of 'zh' sounds that replace the normal 'y' sound. She says the word extrano often, which apparantly means strange. I hope she isn't talking about me.

Oh man, I totally want empanadas now. Can't get those on the eastside, unfortunately. The one cuisine that we don't have on Brady street.

I had some vrai the maroc the other night. Our couchsurfer was from Casablanca, and carried his own tea kettle with him. We took him to Casablanca the restaurant, there was much menu confusion. It is Morrocan owned, but covers the whole of middle eastern cuisine. We discussed camels at great length. They, according to Farid, make great eating.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

I refer you to...

the inimitable Stephen Fry, and his unique perspective on language. His impressive podcast on language can be found here.

Here is the sketch he references, which Bardiac first introduced to me two years ago.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Macromantics Love

Is it awful or is it brilliant? I say brilliant.

Saturday, April 04, 2009


Spent last weekend with my boyfriend.

The rockstar of boyfriends.