Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak. ~William Shakespeare, As You Like It
Recently, I added my name to The Women's Media Center's campaign Sexism Sells, But We're Not Buying It, a video and online petition campaign illustrating the pervasive nature of sexism in the media’s coverage.
The WMC meets with executives to share their concerns, and also welcomes its members to contribute their comments--which they also share with the top dogs. Today, I felt compelled to give them my thoughts:
* * * *
I believe the progress of a nation can be measured by how it treats its women. Based on recent and current media coverage of Senator Clinton, Michelle Obama, and Cindy McCain, we have a long ways to go.
Women make up half of humanity. And yet we are still greatly disrespected both here and abroad. Sexism in media coverage only serves to infect the public's mind that they should devalue women. Even the smallest, dumbest, most trivial comments can go a long way in keeping humanity from progressing forward.
WHY can't the media give as much attention to a woman's achievements as it does to her dress, hair, makeup, laugh quality, and other non-important details? WHY are you, the media, so afraid to view a woman as a strong, smart, human being? When a woman expresses her opinions in a forceful way, she's jumped upon by critics in the media--as well as presented in an almost disdainful manner. She's regarded as a bitch because those who report her comments when she speaks her mind aleady present her in a negative light, consciously or subconciously, due to their own biases.
I find it rather ironic that there are, and have been, women leaders of much more traditionally patriarchial nations; maybe their media doesn't have the luxury of wasting a lot of time on picking apart trivial details of a female candidate or the wives of presidential candidates.
Does the American media REALLY think the public cares about the way Senator Clinton laughs? What color her pantsuit is that she has on today? HOW does it KNOW that Mrs. Obama is an angry black woman? WHY does the country NEED to know about Mrs. McCain's assets or inheritance?
It seems to me there is a lot of anti-woman sentiment in the media and our government. As I stated in the beginning, I believe the progress of a nation can be measured by how it treats its women.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Fuzzy Leggies Reign Supreme
Summer is the time to expose ourselves. Our bodies. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
But isn't beauty in the eye of the beholder??
My fuzzy (hairy!) leggies have been the object of hard, sometimes hostile stares from both men and women over the years. I imagine that they must think of them as horribly unsightly, or that I'm a lesbian, as if either of those are some sort of felony. :-(
What do I care what others think anyway? I've got better things to do with my time! I regret I fell to peer pressure in high school and regularly shaved them (what a pain in the ass!) to fit in. Shaving legs was a high maintenance job for me. I hated it. After 10th grade, when I wasn't required to take P.E. anymore, that was IT. I stopped shaving my legs and armpits. And haven't done it since. Well, maybe a few more years shaving under the arms, but that was still a nuisance, and not done often.
Hair is a natural part of the body. I just happen to blessed with more of it on my legs. My man likes my legs just like they are! ;-b Besides, he would be gravely disappointed with me if I were to shave my legs: I'd be wasting my time kowtowing to society's idea of "beauty" when I could be doing something more productive with my time, like enhancing my brain activity through reading or writing. I wouldn't be me if I shaved my leggies, he tells me.
It is sometimes difficult to bear the stares of others when I go out and about in shorts every summer. But I try to regard it as a sort of character building test: ignore the stares! be yourself! And I admit: I am rather envious of those women who have little hair or whose hair is so light it doesn't show much, and thus, there's no need for them to shave. Yet at the end of the day, I am still glad to be me! ;-)
What am I thinking when people stare or glare at my legs? Exactly this:
The good, the bad, and the ugly. Hmm...that was a good movie! But when those adjectives are used together, it best fits describing peoples' character traits, rather than physical traits. Do physical traits have any value? Maybe as far as health and fitness are concerned, but beyond that, it seems all vanity and Hollywood to me. That a stranger would stare at my fuzzy leggies says more about her/him than me, I'd say. In terms of character traits, their disdain borders on ugly.
Can I consider myself a liberated woman, then, for refusing to bend to society's ideas of beauty? I think I ought to, self-proclaimed feminist that I am. :-) It is liberating not to follow the crowd! My skin is fair, my hair is black. And my hairy legs are the most blatant, public, and physical aspect of my nonconformity, even if the public only sees them three months of the year. (I do have to protect them in the cold months. ;-)) Oh yeah, I've got pretty bushy eyebrows, too. I do tweeze them occasionally as they are more visible, so perhaps my vanity gets in the way there. And I've got hairy arms, as well (don't get lost in the forest!). I certainly don't shave them!
Others have written about hairy legs, online: Hairy-legged feminist wrote some wise words about them, and an Ask Yahoo! person answered the question to "When and why did women start shaving their legs?" Blame advertisers! Or insecure women.
The hairy women I've seen in public seem not to be bothered by their fuzziness. Why should they be? If they were concerned, they wouldn't let the public see their hairiness. Which leads me to believe they've accepted themselves, and say to hell with those who are disturbed by it! To me, they seem more natural human beings--and perhaps more true to themselves, rather than those flowing out of the tanning salons.
I am who I am. Proud of it, too. ;-) And if my honey likes me and my parts just how they are, then so be it. What reason on earth is there to remove the hair on my legs or any other part on my body? What kind of message would I be sending to myself if decided to suddenly start shaving again? If I did that, I feel I would be devaluing myself, going against what I believe in--that I should be true to myself; I'd really fall prey to Madison Avenue (advertising), and become weak-willed because I'd have caved in to society's expectations of what women's beauty should be.
There's no way I can do that to myself. Absolutely not.
Besides, I've read that there are men out there who think hairy women are sexier! :-)
--Francis Bacon, Sr. (1561-1626)
English lawyer, philosopher
But isn't beauty in the eye of the beholder??
My fuzzy (hairy!) leggies have been the object of hard, sometimes hostile stares from both men and women over the years. I imagine that they must think of them as horribly unsightly, or that I'm a lesbian, as if either of those are some sort of felony. :-(
What do I care what others think anyway? I've got better things to do with my time! I regret I fell to peer pressure in high school and regularly shaved them (what a pain in the ass!) to fit in. Shaving legs was a high maintenance job for me. I hated it. After 10th grade, when I wasn't required to take P.E. anymore, that was IT. I stopped shaving my legs and armpits. And haven't done it since. Well, maybe a few more years shaving under the arms, but that was still a nuisance, and not done often.
Hair is a natural part of the body. I just happen to blessed with more of it on my legs. My man likes my legs just like they are! ;-b Besides, he would be gravely disappointed with me if I were to shave my legs: I'd be wasting my time kowtowing to society's idea of "beauty" when I could be doing something more productive with my time, like enhancing my brain activity through reading or writing. I wouldn't be me if I shaved my leggies, he tells me.
It is sometimes difficult to bear the stares of others when I go out and about in shorts every summer. But I try to regard it as a sort of character building test: ignore the stares! be yourself! And I admit: I am rather envious of those women who have little hair or whose hair is so light it doesn't show much, and thus, there's no need for them to shave. Yet at the end of the day, I am still glad to be me! ;-)
What am I thinking when people stare or glare at my legs? Exactly this:
- What the hell are you looking at them for?
- Do you look at everyone's legs?
- If they look that bad to you, don't look!
- And for crying out loud, why are you being so shallow? :-(
- Don't you know that a person's character traits are much more important than her physical traits?
The good, the bad, and the ugly. Hmm...that was a good movie! But when those adjectives are used together, it best fits describing peoples' character traits, rather than physical traits. Do physical traits have any value? Maybe as far as health and fitness are concerned, but beyond that, it seems all vanity and Hollywood to me. That a stranger would stare at my fuzzy leggies says more about her/him than me, I'd say. In terms of character traits, their disdain borders on ugly.
Can I consider myself a liberated woman, then, for refusing to bend to society's ideas of beauty? I think I ought to, self-proclaimed feminist that I am. :-) It is liberating not to follow the crowd! My skin is fair, my hair is black. And my hairy legs are the most blatant, public, and physical aspect of my nonconformity, even if the public only sees them three months of the year. (I do have to protect them in the cold months. ;-)) Oh yeah, I've got pretty bushy eyebrows, too. I do tweeze them occasionally as they are more visible, so perhaps my vanity gets in the way there. And I've got hairy arms, as well (don't get lost in the forest!). I certainly don't shave them!
Others have written about hairy legs, online: Hairy-legged feminist wrote some wise words about them, and an Ask Yahoo! person answered the question to "When and why did women start shaving their legs?" Blame advertisers! Or insecure women.
The hairy women I've seen in public seem not to be bothered by their fuzziness. Why should they be? If they were concerned, they wouldn't let the public see their hairiness. Which leads me to believe they've accepted themselves, and say to hell with those who are disturbed by it! To me, they seem more natural human beings--and perhaps more true to themselves, rather than those flowing out of the tanning salons.
I am who I am. Proud of it, too. ;-) And if my honey likes me and my parts just how they are, then so be it. What reason on earth is there to remove the hair on my legs or any other part on my body? What kind of message would I be sending to myself if decided to suddenly start shaving again? If I did that, I feel I would be devaluing myself, going against what I believe in--that I should be true to myself; I'd really fall prey to Madison Avenue (advertising), and become weak-willed because I'd have caved in to society's expectations of what women's beauty should be.
There's no way I can do that to myself. Absolutely not.
Besides, I've read that there are men out there who think hairy women are sexier! :-)
“The best part of beauty is that which no picture can express.”
--Francis Bacon, Sr. (1561-1626)
English lawyer, philosopher
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Knocking Down Doors
I have an itching desire to take over the world.
BWAHHAHAHAHAHA!! %-D
Why, you ask?
I can't say exactly, but I think my burning passion can be attributed to a combination of factors: being silent throughout my life and getting severely tired of that, a growing indignation at the injustices directed toward women--with impunity, here and abroad, and a growing confidence about myself in that I am more sure than ever of my values and beliefs--as well as taking physicist Richard Feynman's words to heart: what do you care what other people think?
Communication was my major in college, but I think many forget that communication doesn't always have to be verbal. It can be conveyed through body language. Or through art and music. Or it can be written.
To date, I have written three letters to my state senator regarding the status of women here and abroad. On his website, he states that he can only reply to his fellow state citizens. I called him to it in the last letter, mentioning that I had hoped to hear from him and not a staff member. Today was the third letter I sent to him, via his website. I have a burning question for him and I intend to keep bothering him until I receive a response.
Last week, I wrote a loud letter to our state public transportation peeps denouncing their short-sighted bus changes. They cut off my main artery, so to speak: the main bus I take. Now I have to take two buses to get to where I want to go. They did not make-up for this in any way: most people have to rely on another bus route that is very often unreliable to connect to my main bus, and for frequent evening riders, there's a long wait for the unreliable bus at the new hub to take us back into town. I thought that they would at least extend the hours of the new trolley, but they didn't, and it's been a headache for many. :-( I asked them if they didn't care about the safety of their riders? If so, then prove it by making the other bus' schedule more amenable to my bus and/or extending the hours of our trolley. It is SO frustrating!
If I don't hear from them, I will keep bothering them, like I have my state senator. There are two public hearings each year to air out with the public transportation people. I resolved today to show up at the next one with my list of grievances (and solutions!) because I missed my taekwondo class. The bus was way late and I couldn't wait for it any longer; it would've made me miss the connecting bus. I used to have a direct connection right outside my apt complex. No more. :-((
I've been stoking my activist volcanic fires in the last year by voraciously reading as much as I can manage. When I find a gem, I like to leave my two cents' worth on amazon.com. ;-) Why not? Whether I'm the first reviewer or the 15th, I like to challenge myself to write as clearly as possible. In being one of many reviewers, I want to say something different...or at least, the same thing in a different way!
Lately, I've taken an interest in philosophy, in order to think more clearly, better argue my viewpoints, as well as listen more critically to what others say. Of course, part of my reason to study philosophy is to become an activist in my fields of interest. The other part is my heroine and inspiration, Simone de Beauvoir, whose work I am obsessed with.
I don't particularly envision myself as one who would jump on a soapbox and make public speeches, but who knows?! I think I'd probably be more effective in the writing realm. Write powerful, subversive pieces to shake up the masses!! ;-D
I am inspired by those who remained activists for social justice throughout their lives, like Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Alice Paul, and many others. They never tired of their work...they had fire in their bellies! Remember, age is only a number.
I want to be active until my last breath. :-)
“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.”
--Howard Thurman (1899-1981)
American theologian, author, philosopher, educator, and civil rights leader
BWAHHAHAHAHAHA!! %-D
Why, you ask?
I can't say exactly, but I think my burning passion can be attributed to a combination of factors: being silent throughout my life and getting severely tired of that, a growing indignation at the injustices directed toward women--with impunity, here and abroad, and a growing confidence about myself in that I am more sure than ever of my values and beliefs--as well as taking physicist Richard Feynman's words to heart: what do you care what other people think?
Communication was my major in college, but I think many forget that communication doesn't always have to be verbal. It can be conveyed through body language. Or through art and music. Or it can be written.
To date, I have written three letters to my state senator regarding the status of women here and abroad. On his website, he states that he can only reply to his fellow state citizens. I called him to it in the last letter, mentioning that I had hoped to hear from him and not a staff member. Today was the third letter I sent to him, via his website. I have a burning question for him and I intend to keep bothering him until I receive a response.
Last week, I wrote a loud letter to our state public transportation peeps denouncing their short-sighted bus changes. They cut off my main artery, so to speak: the main bus I take. Now I have to take two buses to get to where I want to go. They did not make-up for this in any way: most people have to rely on another bus route that is very often unreliable to connect to my main bus, and for frequent evening riders, there's a long wait for the unreliable bus at the new hub to take us back into town. I thought that they would at least extend the hours of the new trolley, but they didn't, and it's been a headache for many. :-( I asked them if they didn't care about the safety of their riders? If so, then prove it by making the other bus' schedule more amenable to my bus and/or extending the hours of our trolley. It is SO frustrating!
If I don't hear from them, I will keep bothering them, like I have my state senator. There are two public hearings each year to air out with the public transportation people. I resolved today to show up at the next one with my list of grievances (and solutions!) because I missed my taekwondo class. The bus was way late and I couldn't wait for it any longer; it would've made me miss the connecting bus. I used to have a direct connection right outside my apt complex. No more. :-((
I've been stoking my activist volcanic fires in the last year by voraciously reading as much as I can manage. When I find a gem, I like to leave my two cents' worth on amazon.com. ;-) Why not? Whether I'm the first reviewer or the 15th, I like to challenge myself to write as clearly as possible. In being one of many reviewers, I want to say something different...or at least, the same thing in a different way!
Lately, I've taken an interest in philosophy, in order to think more clearly, better argue my viewpoints, as well as listen more critically to what others say. Of course, part of my reason to study philosophy is to become an activist in my fields of interest. The other part is my heroine and inspiration, Simone de Beauvoir, whose work I am obsessed with.
I don't particularly envision myself as one who would jump on a soapbox and make public speeches, but who knows?! I think I'd probably be more effective in the writing realm. Write powerful, subversive pieces to shake up the masses!! ;-D
I am inspired by those who remained activists for social justice throughout their lives, like Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Alice Paul, and many others. They never tired of their work...they had fire in their bellies! Remember, age is only a number.
I want to be active until my last breath. :-)
“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.”
--Howard Thurman (1899-1981)
American theologian, author, philosopher, educator, and civil rights leader
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Highly Sensitive Person
I like taking quizzes that I know I won't be graded on, like a lot of the silly ones on Facebook: What Kind of Disaster Are You? (avalanche!), What Dictator Are You? (Theodora, of the Byzantine Empire!), What's Your Best Quality? (loving!), etc. !
But I also like taking more serious ones, such as on health and personality traits because I think it's very important to know thyself and what you stand for, lest some snake oil salesperson/politician tries to sell you something you're not sure about. The most recent test I took came from a book called The Highly Sensitive Person, by Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D.
According to it, I am probably a highly sensitive person. For instance, I answered true to the following statements:
What a package deal I am!;-D
According to Aron, who is herself an HSP (highly sensitive person) and has done a great deal of research on the subject, "Most people walk into a room and perhaps notice the furniture, the people--that's about it. HSPs can be instantly aware, whether they wish to be or not, of the mood, the friendships and enmities, the freshness or staleness of the air, the personality of the one who arranged the flowers....Our trait of sensitivity means we will also be cautious, inward, needing extra time alone. Because people without the trait (the majority) do not understand that, they see us as timid, shy, weak, or that greatest sin of all, unsociable." (pp. 4,5)
I am glad she added, "You forget that you belong to a group that has often demonstrated great creativity, insight, passion, and caring--all highly valued by society." (p. 5) :-))
A classmate in high school once said aloud to me before class started, "I think you're STUCK UP!" because I never said anything. I was deeply offended, and blurted out, "NO, I'M NOT!" %-0
That's one area where one could say I am sensitive: being told I'm something that I'm not! I prefer to say it's my pet peeve: people who aren't very perceptive at all and decide to play shrink on me. That reeeeaallly grates on my nerves! Get off your high horse, pleeeze! >:-(
I had a coworker who said to me one day (shaking her head), "J, I don't think you'll ever be strong-willed!" I cannot remember the circumstances that caused her to say that, but I'll tell you something, that burned me up! You obviously don't know me, dear coworker! Blind, unperceptive bitch! I must have forgiven her for that slight because a year later, after I left that office, I invited her to a symphony concert (I worked for an orchestra as a slave dog administrative assistant) and had two free tickets.
Strong smells really get to me. I wrote about this last year on one of my posts, regarding my doggy nose. If an aroma or odor is overwhelming, I'll be nauseous for the rest of the day. Not to say I don't appreciate scents, but I've had to move to the back of the bus because some ladies have doused themselves in perfume and it made me want to puke. The same goes for offensive foot or body odors; I don't go looking for these smells, they find me! Or more precisely, my nostrils.
I know that I sense other people's moods a lot quicker than my friends. If I mention it to them, they give me a look of wonder! %-0 What? Really? I suppose moods can also be translated into more modern day terms, like energy. "So-and-so was giving off bad energy today!"
Case in point: last year, I interviewed with a chiropractor who put me and his staff on edge. He could have been David Carradine's character in "Kill Bill"! Looked like him and acted like him! %-( A close friend of mine who is also a massage therapist told me he gave off too much bad energy. That might sound like voo doo to your average joe on the street, but it took me the whole rest of the day to recover from him. He was rude, talked twice (and cursed) on his cell while interviewing me, and was just hostile in general. Plus, he had a low opinion of massage therapists anyway, evidenced by his offer of very low wage and haughty manner toward me and other comments he made to staff while I was there.
I like my solitude. Reading takes my mind to many great places. ;-) I crave my quiet time. And I like my sleep. Rest is always a good thing! Now, after having read this book, I don't feel guilty for extra naps or an extra hour or two of sleep, which to others may be deemed as pure laziness. If I don't take care of my body, who will?
Music is sweet salve for my soul: I often get lost...swept away in something I like. It's like my mind is a sponge, reflecting whatever the mood a piece is conveying, be it opera, Bach, Beethoven, Bartok, big band, the Beatles, or the Bee Gees! %-D I have often stayed an extra few minutes in a store (especially on hot summer days) just to hear the end of a song!
Perhaps I should just say that I am a sponge. Like tofu. I absorb whatever flavors, scents (and moods!) are out there, for better or for worse. It's why I have always cherished my quiet times and my beauty sleep: to balance out any excitement, positive or negative, that I may have experienced that day. Now I understand. :-)
"Worship the gods if you wish, but first, know thyself."
-- Socrates
But I also like taking more serious ones, such as on health and personality traits because I think it's very important to know thyself and what you stand for, lest some snake oil salesperson/politician tries to sell you something you're not sure about. The most recent test I took came from a book called The Highly Sensitive Person, by Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D.
According to it, I am probably a highly sensitive person. For instance, I answered true to the following statements:
- Other people's moods affect me.
- I am easily overwhelmed by things like bright lights, strong smells (yes,
- that's me!), coarse fabrics, or sirens close by.
- I have a rich, complex, inner life.
- I am made uncomfortable by loud noises.
- I am deeply moved by the arts or music.
- I startle easily (just ask my man!)
- I get rattled when I have a lot to do in a short amount of time.
- When people are uncomfortable in a physical environment, I tend to know what needs to be done to make it more comfortable (like changing the lighting or the seating).
- I am annoyed when people try to get me to do too many things at once.
- Being very hungry creates a strong reaction in me, disrupting my concentration or mood (definitely me!).
- I notice and enjoy delicate or fine scents, tastes, sounds, and works of art.
- I make it a high priority to arrange my life to avoid upsetting or overwhelming situations (only in recent years).
- When I must compete or be observed while performing a task, I become so nervous or shaky that I do much worse than I would otherwise (not all the time...I think I'm getting better!;-)
- When I was a child, my parents or teachers seemed to see me as sensitive or shy.
What a package deal I am!;-D
According to Aron, who is herself an HSP (highly sensitive person) and has done a great deal of research on the subject, "Most people walk into a room and perhaps notice the furniture, the people--that's about it. HSPs can be instantly aware, whether they wish to be or not, of the mood, the friendships and enmities, the freshness or staleness of the air, the personality of the one who arranged the flowers....Our trait of sensitivity means we will also be cautious, inward, needing extra time alone. Because people without the trait (the majority) do not understand that, they see us as timid, shy, weak, or that greatest sin of all, unsociable." (pp. 4,5)
I am glad she added, "You forget that you belong to a group that has often demonstrated great creativity, insight, passion, and caring--all highly valued by society." (p. 5) :-))
A classmate in high school once said aloud to me before class started, "I think you're STUCK UP!" because I never said anything. I was deeply offended, and blurted out, "NO, I'M NOT!" %-0
That's one area where one could say I am sensitive: being told I'm something that I'm not! I prefer to say it's my pet peeve: people who aren't very perceptive at all and decide to play shrink on me. That reeeeaallly grates on my nerves! Get off your high horse, pleeeze! >:-(
I had a coworker who said to me one day (shaking her head), "J, I don't think you'll ever be strong-willed!" I cannot remember the circumstances that caused her to say that, but I'll tell you something, that burned me up! You obviously don't know me, dear coworker! Blind, unperceptive bitch! I must have forgiven her for that slight because a year later, after I left that office, I invited her to a symphony concert (I worked for an orchestra as a slave dog administrative assistant) and had two free tickets.
Strong smells really get to me. I wrote about this last year on one of my posts, regarding my doggy nose. If an aroma or odor is overwhelming, I'll be nauseous for the rest of the day. Not to say I don't appreciate scents, but I've had to move to the back of the bus because some ladies have doused themselves in perfume and it made me want to puke. The same goes for offensive foot or body odors; I don't go looking for these smells, they find me! Or more precisely, my nostrils.
I know that I sense other people's moods a lot quicker than my friends. If I mention it to them, they give me a look of wonder! %-0 What? Really? I suppose moods can also be translated into more modern day terms, like energy. "So-and-so was giving off bad energy today!"
Case in point: last year, I interviewed with a chiropractor who put me and his staff on edge. He could have been David Carradine's character in "Kill Bill"! Looked like him and acted like him! %-( A close friend of mine who is also a massage therapist told me he gave off too much bad energy. That might sound like voo doo to your average joe on the street, but it took me the whole rest of the day to recover from him. He was rude, talked twice (and cursed) on his cell while interviewing me, and was just hostile in general. Plus, he had a low opinion of massage therapists anyway, evidenced by his offer of very low wage and haughty manner toward me and other comments he made to staff while I was there.
I like my solitude. Reading takes my mind to many great places. ;-) I crave my quiet time. And I like my sleep. Rest is always a good thing! Now, after having read this book, I don't feel guilty for extra naps or an extra hour or two of sleep, which to others may be deemed as pure laziness. If I don't take care of my body, who will?
Music is sweet salve for my soul: I often get lost...swept away in something I like. It's like my mind is a sponge, reflecting whatever the mood a piece is conveying, be it opera, Bach, Beethoven, Bartok, big band, the Beatles, or the Bee Gees! %-D I have often stayed an extra few minutes in a store (especially on hot summer days) just to hear the end of a song!
Perhaps I should just say that I am a sponge. Like tofu. I absorb whatever flavors, scents (and moods!) are out there, for better or for worse. It's why I have always cherished my quiet times and my beauty sleep: to balance out any excitement, positive or negative, that I may have experienced that day. Now I understand. :-)
"Worship the gods if you wish, but first, know thyself."
-- Socrates
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Bloodsuckers! Episode II :-(
This morning I found a lone bloodsucker on my PILLOW when I awoke: a teensy weensy bed bug!
So it's been crawling bloodsuckers rather than a flying ones that have been wreaking havoc on my body in the last month! Their itch is intense--I can hardly stand myself.
I'm almost surprised I caught it; they're known to feast in the dark, before dawn. The one I caught this morning running from me on the pillow must have hung around the buffet table a bit too long, as hubby put it! In broad daylight, no less. It's in a glass jar now sitting between the computers, for our morbid fascination. ;-)
I can't believe such a tiny thing can cause such misery! Hubby only got bit a few times in the last month, most recently last night. But he hardly even notices it. The itch is overwhelming. Last weekend, I got NO sleep at all because the itching drove me nuts, even after I had taken antihistamine and applied a topical cream to it. If someone had taken my arms away, I would have been happy, it was that bad (it made me cry like a baby!).
I had been just sitting on the bed reading Saturday night when I felt a tingling burning and itch on the inside of my arm...yet I didn't see anything but red bumps...about 20 of them in an elongated cluster. Like I had chicken pox all over again. Yech! Before I knew it, it itched like the dickens--and combined with the half dozen or so on my left arm, plus a mess of them on my shoulders, I got no respite all night.
Sometimes the itch is SO intense I'm beside myself. I can't stand myself and want to crawl out of my own skin. Can't concentrate or anything. I have a high pain threshold, but absolutely NO itch tolerance at all! %-(
Tonight, hubby put sticky tape all around the bed, hoping they'll stick to it when they come after us. I did wash the sheets in hot water, wipe the mattress down with Mr. Clean, and vaccum already. It might need lord knows how many more sessions of that.
I hope my prescription anti-itch cream comes soon; I was too impatient to wait in the long long at the pharmacy for it the other day, so I called the mail order pharmacy the next day. It's hard to do ANYTHING when you feel like you want to jump out of your skin. :~-(
This afternoon, it didn't help that when I was trying to purchase airline tickets online for xmas, the site didn't let me complete the purchase right around the time my itch was completely overwhelming me! Thank goodness hubby had the patience to finish it all for me.
Crawling bloodsuckers or flying bloodsuckers, I hope I don't turn into a vampire before Halloween!
* * * * * * *
Appetite
I want you to be my victim!
Yeah!
All i want is you.
Your skin so white,
whets my appetite,
your dreams, i dream,
in your bed at night.
And i sleep by your frame,
curling around my finger,
with hooks in my brain,
Blood in your veins,
slides down my thoat,
pooling inside,
now i feel you again!
This bliss,
this perfect
and passionate kiss.
Marks us in red.
I life well fed.
by Vatishi
(that last line: A life well fed, or I LIVE well fed??)
So it's been crawling bloodsuckers rather than a flying ones that have been wreaking havoc on my body in the last month! Their itch is intense--I can hardly stand myself.
I'm almost surprised I caught it; they're known to feast in the dark, before dawn. The one I caught this morning running from me on the pillow must have hung around the buffet table a bit too long, as hubby put it! In broad daylight, no less. It's in a glass jar now sitting between the computers, for our morbid fascination. ;-)
I can't believe such a tiny thing can cause such misery! Hubby only got bit a few times in the last month, most recently last night. But he hardly even notices it. The itch is overwhelming. Last weekend, I got NO sleep at all because the itching drove me nuts, even after I had taken antihistamine and applied a topical cream to it. If someone had taken my arms away, I would have been happy, it was that bad (it made me cry like a baby!).
I had been just sitting on the bed reading Saturday night when I felt a tingling burning and itch on the inside of my arm...yet I didn't see anything but red bumps...about 20 of them in an elongated cluster. Like I had chicken pox all over again. Yech! Before I knew it, it itched like the dickens--and combined with the half dozen or so on my left arm, plus a mess of them on my shoulders, I got no respite all night.
Sometimes the itch is SO intense I'm beside myself. I can't stand myself and want to crawl out of my own skin. Can't concentrate or anything. I have a high pain threshold, but absolutely NO itch tolerance at all! %-(
Tonight, hubby put sticky tape all around the bed, hoping they'll stick to it when they come after us. I did wash the sheets in hot water, wipe the mattress down with Mr. Clean, and vaccum already. It might need lord knows how many more sessions of that.
I hope my prescription anti-itch cream comes soon; I was too impatient to wait in the long long at the pharmacy for it the other day, so I called the mail order pharmacy the next day. It's hard to do ANYTHING when you feel like you want to jump out of your skin. :~-(
This afternoon, it didn't help that when I was trying to purchase airline tickets online for xmas, the site didn't let me complete the purchase right around the time my itch was completely overwhelming me! Thank goodness hubby had the patience to finish it all for me.
Crawling bloodsuckers or flying bloodsuckers, I hope I don't turn into a vampire before Halloween!
* * * * * * *
Appetite
I want you to be my victim!
Yeah!
All i want is you.
Your skin so white,
whets my appetite,
your dreams, i dream,
in your bed at night.
And i sleep by your frame,
curling around my finger,
with hooks in my brain,
Blood in your veins,
slides down my thoat,
pooling inside,
now i feel you again!
This bliss,
this perfect
and passionate kiss.
Marks us in red.
I life well fed.
by Vatishi
(that last line: A life well fed, or I LIVE well fed??)
Friday, May 9, 2008
Bloodsuckers! :-(
I'm being eaten alive! And I can't even see what's biting me.
I must really have delicious blood. This morning I woke up to seven fresh bites. I am not a good person to bite because I have a very low threshold for itching. Nasty flying vampires! %-(
It's a wonder I still have any blood flowing, given that I've been mercilessly bitten since childhood. My mom always told me to rub the bite with alcohol, but the relief from itching is only fleeting. Since I moved to the east coast 14 years ago, I've also got bitten by gnats--and the itch from their bite last DAYS, not hours, like a mosquito. Once, my former doctor didn't believe me when I told him I was bit by a gnat. That really annoyed me; I'm the one the squished the bloody booger (literally!) on the site where it just sucked my blood, somewhere on my leg.
I used to hate ALL insects, but I know they're not all completely evil. I have a fondness and fascination with ladybugs, fireflies, woolly worms, fuzzy catapillars, bright butterflies, and yes...even ants! But I'll save them for another post. This one is dedicated to spewing my anger toward the flying kind that bite or sting.
I despise them SO much that I regard any person who I perceive as mean-spirited and treats others badly as an insect. An insect! How much lower can I go to describe them and their behavior than to compare them to creatures I loathe?
If I happen to have the misfortune to be the target of someone's bad mood--particularly from a male stranger who doesn't know how to keep his balls and his brains where they belong, I feel strongly compelled to shout, "You ought to be glad I'm not an insect!" Y'know, like a praying mantis. The female bites off the head of the male. Yuck!
Although spiders aren't insects, black widows do pretty much the same thing. Males in the insect world really have it bad! Slam, bam, thank you, SIR! Thanks for the fun, for fulfilling your biological duty. Have a nice afterlife! %-0
I often find myself waking up in the middle of the night itching my bites with ferocious intensity. That's not a good thing, but sometimes even the hydrocortisone cream I use for the itch isn't very effective.
The itch is intense and so is my dislike for the bloody, biting boogers.
This afternoon, I went online and searched for natural remedies. One was a mixture of vegetable oil and pure lavender oil. I like lavender (just a hint), having just bought a jar of lavender-scented massage cream to use on my clients, but I forgot how powerful pure oil can be! Whew! %-0 Hubby closed the bathroom door. I suppose it helped stop the itch, but not for very long. The scent was overpowering. Way too strong for my sensitive, doggy nose. I later went over my bites with alcohol to try to take out the lavender scent, but there's still a little bit lingering on me. I get sick to my stomach if a scent is too strong.
I'm stuck with the OTC remedies, for now, until I can find a less smelly alternative. Got any ideas, anyone?
Avon had an insect repellant lotion that I bought several years ago. I wonder if it's still effective? I confess I've had it since the summer before my youngest bil got married--I remember I've had it since then because I was at a party and my mil's late best friend spilled the beans and told everyone he was engaged! I sat there amongst the others, smothered in Avon's strongly scented lotion which I could barely tolerate--but virtually unbitten by the swarming mosquitoes, while everyone was getting jiggly and itchy from bites. It was quite pleasant to not get bitten for once!
What are these flying creatures dining on these days that make their venom so powerful? Or am I just getting more sensitive with time? I have a much higher tolerance for pain than for itch.
I got my first sting from a tiny yellowjacket a few years ago. That hurt all day long! %-( That thing was so small it was almost cute! Hubby and I put it in one of those tiny plastic take-out soy sauce containers so I could study it, with the help of the internet. Is that weird? I wanted to find out what it was that caused my neck to burn and sting all day, that's all! Unbelievable how such a tiny thing could have such a big effect. Thank goodness it wasn't an adult-sized yellowjacket. The size alone would have scared the heck out of me!
What's worse? More than a half-dozen unbearably itchy bites distributed throughout your body that lasts for several days or one nasty, burning sting that lasts all day long? They're both unwanted, as far as I'm concerned.
How do I make myself less savory to these flying bloodsuckers? They never ever seem to bite hubby. He says they've had their fill of him! They want new, tasty Chinese food! It'd be nice if they'd have their fill of me someday. I hope so, but it doesn't seem like it, after all these years.
I must really have delicious blood. This morning I woke up to seven fresh bites. I am not a good person to bite because I have a very low threshold for itching. Nasty flying vampires! %-(
It's a wonder I still have any blood flowing, given that I've been mercilessly bitten since childhood. My mom always told me to rub the bite with alcohol, but the relief from itching is only fleeting. Since I moved to the east coast 14 years ago, I've also got bitten by gnats--and the itch from their bite last DAYS, not hours, like a mosquito. Once, my former doctor didn't believe me when I told him I was bit by a gnat. That really annoyed me; I'm the one the squished the bloody booger (literally!) on the site where it just sucked my blood, somewhere on my leg.
I used to hate ALL insects, but I know they're not all completely evil. I have a fondness and fascination with ladybugs, fireflies, woolly worms, fuzzy catapillars, bright butterflies, and yes...even ants! But I'll save them for another post. This one is dedicated to spewing my anger toward the flying kind that bite or sting.
I despise them SO much that I regard any person who I perceive as mean-spirited and treats others badly as an insect. An insect! How much lower can I go to describe them and their behavior than to compare them to creatures I loathe?
If I happen to have the misfortune to be the target of someone's bad mood--particularly from a male stranger who doesn't know how to keep his balls and his brains where they belong, I feel strongly compelled to shout, "You ought to be glad I'm not an insect!" Y'know, like a praying mantis. The female bites off the head of the male. Yuck!
Although spiders aren't insects, black widows do pretty much the same thing. Males in the insect world really have it bad! Slam, bam, thank you, SIR! Thanks for the fun, for fulfilling your biological duty. Have a nice afterlife! %-0
I often find myself waking up in the middle of the night itching my bites with ferocious intensity. That's not a good thing, but sometimes even the hydrocortisone cream I use for the itch isn't very effective.
The itch is intense and so is my dislike for the bloody, biting boogers.
This afternoon, I went online and searched for natural remedies. One was a mixture of vegetable oil and pure lavender oil. I like lavender (just a hint), having just bought a jar of lavender-scented massage cream to use on my clients, but I forgot how powerful pure oil can be! Whew! %-0 Hubby closed the bathroom door. I suppose it helped stop the itch, but not for very long. The scent was overpowering. Way too strong for my sensitive, doggy nose. I later went over my bites with alcohol to try to take out the lavender scent, but there's still a little bit lingering on me. I get sick to my stomach if a scent is too strong.
I'm stuck with the OTC remedies, for now, until I can find a less smelly alternative. Got any ideas, anyone?
Avon had an insect repellant lotion that I bought several years ago. I wonder if it's still effective? I confess I've had it since the summer before my youngest bil got married--I remember I've had it since then because I was at a party and my mil's late best friend spilled the beans and told everyone he was engaged! I sat there amongst the others, smothered in Avon's strongly scented lotion which I could barely tolerate--but virtually unbitten by the swarming mosquitoes, while everyone was getting jiggly and itchy from bites. It was quite pleasant to not get bitten for once!
What are these flying creatures dining on these days that make their venom so powerful? Or am I just getting more sensitive with time? I have a much higher tolerance for pain than for itch.
I got my first sting from a tiny yellowjacket a few years ago. That hurt all day long! %-( That thing was so small it was almost cute! Hubby and I put it in one of those tiny plastic take-out soy sauce containers so I could study it, with the help of the internet. Is that weird? I wanted to find out what it was that caused my neck to burn and sting all day, that's all! Unbelievable how such a tiny thing could have such a big effect. Thank goodness it wasn't an adult-sized yellowjacket. The size alone would have scared the heck out of me!
What's worse? More than a half-dozen unbearably itchy bites distributed throughout your body that lasts for several days or one nasty, burning sting that lasts all day long? They're both unwanted, as far as I'm concerned.
How do I make myself less savory to these flying bloodsuckers? They never ever seem to bite hubby. He says they've had their fill of him! They want new, tasty Chinese food! It'd be nice if they'd have their fill of me someday. I hope so, but it doesn't seem like it, after all these years.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Happy Birthday to Me!!
I turned one year younger today! ;-) According to Wikipedia,
I had no idea AGE had so many meanings!
I don't feel my age. I don't think I ever have! It's only a number to me.
What makes some people young at heart, and others, not?
I don't know, but I want to be young at heart; I don't worry about the others who aren't!
When are you really old?
Past 100! Or when YOU think you're really old. :-(
Where is it written that you are supposed to act in such-and-such way at any given age?
Nowhere to my knowledge. Maybe in child-rearing advice books?
To my mind, when you're an adult and other adults may be disdainful of your youthful ways, I think that they're probably too locked in their thinking and acceptance of societal expectations. And perhaps too afraid to be themselves. ;-)
Why do people--especially those younger than me, talk like they're old farts when they're not?
Who knows! They've already aged themselves! And since they think they're old, they'll start acting old, and people will treat them as such.
How do you age gracefully?
Laugh a lot and hang around those who make you laugh. ;-D And try to do the common sense stuff like eating healthy and exercising.
There you have it: my Q & A pearls of wisdom! :-)
A dear friend emailed me this piece from comedian George Carlin recently and I'd like to share it here.
George Carlin's Views on Aging
Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is
when we're kids? If you're less than 10 years old, you're so excited about
aging that you think in fractions.
'How old are you?' *'*I'm four *and a half!' *You're never thirty-six and a
half. You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key
You get into your teens, now they can't hold you back. You jump to the next
number, or even a few ahead.
'How old are you?' 'I'm *gonna be *16!' You could be 13, but hey, you're
gonna be 16! And then the greatest day of your life! You *become* 21. Even
the words sound like a ceremony. *YOU BECOME 21. YESSSS!!! *
But then you* turn *30. Oooohh, what happened there? Makes you sound like
bad milk! He TURNED; we had to throw him out. There's no fun now, you're
Just a sour-dumpling. What's wrong? What's changed?
You *BECOME *21, you *TURN *30, then you're *PUSHING* 40. Whoa! Put on the
brakes, it's all slipping away. Before you know it, you *REACH* 50 and your
dreams are gone.*
But wait!!! *You *MAKE it *to 60. You didn't think you would!
So you *BECOME* 21, *TURN* 30, *PUSH *40, *REACH *50 and *MAKE it *to 60.
You've built up so much speed that you *HIT* 70! After that it's a
day-by-day thing; you HIT Wednesday!
You *get into *your 80's and every day is a complete cycle; you HIT lunch;
you TURN 4:30; you REACH bedtime. And it doesn't end there. Into the 90s,
you start going backwards; 'I *Was JUST *92.'
Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little
kid again. 'I'm 100 and a half!'
May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!! *
________________________________________________
Back to me...
There's more, but I'll save it for another time!
I told someone once that I was OLD. That was not the right thing to say, since I knew in my heart it wasn't true! At the very least, I could have said I was oldER.
It's only a number, it's only a number...age! I'm not getting older. I'm getting BETTER! That's what my birthday card from my dearest friend said, this year. :-)
* * * * *
Indian Summer
--Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)
Age may refer to:
The length of time that an organism has lived:
- aging, for the social, cultural, and economic factors of age and aging.
- senescence, for the biology and science of aging.
A period of history:
Other:
- Age, Mie, a district in Japan
- Agé, a god from the mythology of the Fon people; the son of Mawu-Lisa;
- One of the D'ni Ages, the fictional universe in the Myst series of games.
- Agenore Incrocci, an Italian screenwriter.
- Age (Model theory), the class of all finitely generated structures which are embeddable in a structure A in mathematics.
- âge Japanese company
- The Age is a daily newspaper published in Melbourne, Australia.
AGE is a three-letter acronym that may refer to:
- Advanced Genealogical Exploration Services, an internet genealogy family tree service
- Advanced glycation endproduct, a class of spontaneously modified molecules whose modification begins with an initial glycation
- A. G. Edwards, a brokerage firm
- Agarose gel electrophoresis, a method used in molecular biology
- American Aging Association (abbreviated AGE, although not an acronym)
- Applied general equilibrium
- Arterial gas embolism
- Agricultural & General Engineers, a group of companies
- Assemblée générale des Étudiants des FUNDP, a Belgian student association
I had no idea AGE had so many meanings!
I don't feel my age. I don't think I ever have! It's only a number to me.
What makes some people young at heart, and others, not?
I don't know, but I want to be young at heart; I don't worry about the others who aren't!
When are you really old?
Past 100! Or when YOU think you're really old. :-(
Where is it written that you are supposed to act in such-and-such way at any given age?
Nowhere to my knowledge. Maybe in child-rearing advice books?
To my mind, when you're an adult and other adults may be disdainful of your youthful ways, I think that they're probably too locked in their thinking and acceptance of societal expectations. And perhaps too afraid to be themselves. ;-)
Why do people--especially those younger than me, talk like they're old farts when they're not?
Who knows! They've already aged themselves! And since they think they're old, they'll start acting old, and people will treat them as such.
How do you age gracefully?
Laugh a lot and hang around those who make you laugh. ;-D And try to do the common sense stuff like eating healthy and exercising.
There you have it: my Q & A pearls of wisdom! :-)
A dear friend emailed me this piece from comedian George Carlin recently and I'd like to share it here.
George Carlin's Views on Aging
Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is
when we're kids? If you're less than 10 years old, you're so excited about
aging that you think in fractions.
'How old are you?' *'*I'm four *and a half!' *You're never thirty-six and a
half. You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key
You get into your teens, now they can't hold you back. You jump to the next
number, or even a few ahead.
'How old are you?' 'I'm *gonna be *16!' You could be 13, but hey, you're
gonna be 16! And then the greatest day of your life! You *become* 21. Even
the words sound like a ceremony. *YOU BECOME 21. YESSSS!!! *
But then you* turn *30. Oooohh, what happened there? Makes you sound like
bad milk! He TURNED; we had to throw him out. There's no fun now, you're
Just a sour-dumpling. What's wrong? What's changed?
You *BECOME *21, you *TURN *30, then you're *PUSHING* 40. Whoa! Put on the
brakes, it's all slipping away. Before you know it, you *REACH* 50 and your
dreams are gone.*
But wait!!! *You *MAKE it *to 60. You didn't think you would!
So you *BECOME* 21, *TURN* 30, *PUSH *40, *REACH *50 and *MAKE it *to 60.
You've built up so much speed that you *HIT* 70! After that it's a
day-by-day thing; you HIT Wednesday!
You *get into *your 80's and every day is a complete cycle; you HIT lunch;
you TURN 4:30; you REACH bedtime. And it doesn't end there. Into the 90s,
you start going backwards; 'I *Was JUST *92.'
Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little
kid again. 'I'm 100 and a half!'
May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!! *
________________________________________________
Back to me...
There's more, but I'll save it for another time!
I told someone once that I was OLD. That was not the right thing to say, since I knew in my heart it wasn't true! At the very least, I could have said I was oldER.
It's only a number, it's only a number...age! I'm not getting older. I'm getting BETTER! That's what my birthday card from my dearest friend said, this year. :-)
* * * * *
Indian Summer
| | In youth, it was a way I had To do my best to please, And change, with every passing lad, To suit his theories. But now I know the things I know, And do the things I do; And if you do not like me so, To hell, my love, with you! |
--Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)
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