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traumatized
I know that this is not a very sensitive thing to say and that people blog to fulfill their own needs, whatever. But dude. Do you have to post pictures of your stillborn/miscarried babies...clearly born long before viability? I know they may be beautiful to you, but can you at least not put it on your main page where an unsuspecting visitor is forced to look at them and feel very sick to their stomach with absolutely no warning whatsoever before they can x out of your site? I understand that it may help you somehow to post these pictures but...come on...link to the pictures with some kind of warning please. Labels: Things that are gross
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The other day I was reading some mommy blog, and as most mommy blogs seem to be the blogger clearly skewed towards the left side of the political spectrum. To put it mildly. Anyway, it took me a few reads to get the gist of her post because it was rather nonspecific railing about how a picture of her daughter pretending to breast-feed a dolly was beautiful and how we should teach our kids that Barb*ie can fall in love with Barb*ie and basically that California sucks and breastfeeding dollies is good (I assume it had something to do with the Prop 8 ruling but not sure where breastfeeding comes into the picture). O...kay. For the record, I never really cared much about gay marriage one way or another, I am somewhat naturally inclined towards being against it but I don't see the world coming to an end if it happens to go the other way (har har)...I only started actually paying attention to the whole debate when it started being shoved down my throat (i.e. naked make-out sessions in a park with children playing a few yards away, the summary classification of people who aren't ardently pro-gay marriage as ignorant homophobes, so on and so forth). But really, I'd like to address the whole weird pro-breastfeeding reference in her post. I am all for breastfeeding, I think it's great for the babies, for mother-infant bonding, and I plan on doing it myself if at all possible. I also think women who choose not to breastfeed have their reasons and that's fine too. After hearing both wonderful and nightmarish breastfeeding stories I've come to the conclusion that there is no right or wrong and honestly, who cares whether or not someone else chooses to breastfeed their offspring? That said, when Paul and I were in Miami this past January we enjoyed a lovely afternoon at the Lincoln Road outdoor mall, sipping sangria and people watching. A woman walked by with her shirt up and a child literally hanging off her boob. Her nipple was the size of a sand dollar. I almost spit up my sangria. Sure breastfeeding is a beautiful thing and all, but um, dude? Seriously? I don't need to see that. From what I know most of my cousins who are mothers have breastfed their babies at least for some time. I've heard some of them complain about what a pain it is to go out when they're breastfeeding because they always have to plan ahead and make sure there's a place to do the feedings (none of them are into the whole breastfeed in public thing). But for those who don't mind breastfeeding in a public place, what's so hard about finding a nice bench to sit down on and carrying a blanket to throw over yourself? I've seen plenty of women breastfeed in a modest way in public, so why do some have the need/desire to shove it in everyone's face? I'm not crazy right? What would you think if you saw that? Labels: Things that are gross, those whacky liberals
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
I have pinkeye. Super. Labels: Life, Things that are gross
Sunday, April 15, 2007
There really is something about Paris in the springtime. Unfortunately, I'm so homesick at this point I would rather be back in Los Angeles stuck in traffic in a rainstorm (ha! rain in LA! hee!). Things wouldn't be so bad except for one little thing. One not-so-little person who is driving everyone else in the apartment absolutely batty. I've had, um, not great roommates in the past (and some fabulous roommates) but she unquestionably takes the cake. After three peaceful, noise free, stink free days while she was on vacation in the west of France within thirty minutes of her return she had me and the Poon hiding in our rooms with the doors shut and our earphones on. Why? you ask. Well, let me tell you. First there was the juice slurping. Not one accidental slurp in her overzealousness to quench her thirst, but a constant, repeated and LOUD "slurp, slurp, slurp" with every damn sip that she took. Shockingly the woman is 34 years old and not 3.4 years old. After she had finally finished slurping down two cups of juice she preceded to fill the entire apartment with the wretched stench of her fish and fried something or the other cooking. Nevermind that it was nearly midnight and the doors to the bedrooms were open. That's what led to cowering in the room with the doors shut. But you know what couldn't be blocked out by the paper thin doors? The singing. The off-key singing. The off-key singing of someone who clearly thinks their singing is not so bad and so they don't sing quietly to themselves but very much so out loud in such a way that they obviously think other people might want to hear them sing. That was not even what drove me and the Poon to earphones though, oh no, it gets better. The coup de grace? She paused in the middle of a song to talk to herself about how she was going to cook and then, and then, she SPELLED THE WORD COOKING. C-O-O-K-I-N-G. Thank you! You know, I almost forgot how it was spelled. But now I know. Now it will forever be committed to my memory. When I relayed this sad story to The Hubs he laughed and asked if she spells DUMP while on the toilet. Thankfully I'm not privy to that sort of information. (Although she has gotten in the habit of leaving the bathroom door open when she pees in the early mornings, ugh.) Labels: Annoyances, Homesick, Things that are gross
Saturday, March 03, 2007
In case you were wondering, I still have the "cacas" (my roommate Joe's twist on the way little French kids say doody). Pepto just isn't cutting it so we ventured over to the 13th arrondisement/Chinatown in search of some "zhen lu wan" (a Chinese remedy for the cacas). Unfortunately, even the Chinese in France are somewhat prone to frequent and extended break-taking and there was no one at the medicine counter for a good 15 minutes. When the woman finally returned I was told rather unapologetically that no, we don't sell that here. But I did come home with some rice crackers, soy bean drink, asian pears, peaches, dried squid and a precious bottle of aloe drink. Oh and I got to go into stores and communicate with the store clerks just like back in the states! No hand gestures necessary! Except I was speaking in Chinese and not English. It's funny, I think by the time I get home my Chinese will have improved a lot more than my French. Because whenever we go into Asian restaurants here I can't speak French, they can't speak English, so we meet at Chinese. Labels: Homesick, Stereotypes are true, Things that are gross
Thursday, March 01, 2007
So I'm in a complain-y mood tonight, perhaps due to the fact that I apparently have some kind of stomach bug that sends me to the bathroom every hour on the hour. Even though this has been going on since about Monday or so, for some odd reason I still keep agreeing to go out to happy hours and Mexican/Brazilian food. Onto the complaining, one of the most upsetting things about living in France, as someone who comes from California, is the smoking. Every-freaking-where. I feel like I'm inhaling so much smoke that I might as well light up myself, except I already feel so dizzy and nauseated by everyone else's cigarettes that I'd probably just keel over or vomit into my plate if I did. Seriously, it feels like these people are just not capable of going more than 5 minutes without a cigarette. You will see people getting onto the train taking the last puff of their cigarette as though they are going to have to hold their breath for fifteen minutes and actually exhaling all their smoke INTO the train after the doors have closed. You will then see that same person (five minutes later) standing right next to the door with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other eagerly anticipating the moment the train doors open so that they can light up even before they've actually completely exited the train. Then there are the people who seem to have no qualms lighting up around anyone. Babies? No problem. Pregnant women? No problem. The only thing I haven't seen yet is someone light up around someone breathing off an air tank. But since I haven't seen anyone strolling around Paris with an air tank yet that's really not saying much. I wonder what the incidence of lung cancer is in this country? Besides the fact that I am probably considerably shortening my life everytime I step into a bar, club, restaurant or cafe, the other irritating thing is how all of my clothes smell like cigarettes. And my hair constantly reeks of cigarettes. Here's a hint for any girls who might be planning on visiting/living in France, never, EVER wash your hair before going to a bar/club/cafe/restaurant unless you enjoy shampooing twice in one day. If you like to take your showers in the morning, bring a shower cap. This city may be full of delicious foods but there are so many disgusting smells to go with...week-old urine, pungent body odor and smoke, smoke and more smoke. Yech. Labels: France, Homesick, Paris, Things that are gross
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Yesterday I watched as my roommate peeled off what I can only guess were stinky, sweaty socks, from her feet before she balled them up and shoved them under one of her many pillows. P.S. We share a bed (sleep head-to-toe) and the pillow she shoved them under was on my side of the bed. Labels: Things that are gross
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