Oh, also I just wanted to mention that I went on an unintentional fast food bender yesterday during which I had a bacon egg and cheese McMuffin for breakfast, a McDonald's chicken sandwich and a mocha McCafe for lunch, and a BK Steakhouse Burger Value Meal with an Oreo Sundae pie for dinner (go big or go home, right?). Anyway, after I woke up this morning grateful to be alive, I did some sleuthing and discovered that these are yesterday's nutrition facts:
Calories: 2,720g
Fat: 136g
Saturated Fat: 52.5
Cholesterol: 485mg
Sodium: 4,377mg
I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M ALIVE.
Also, some people eat like that all the time. Crazy.
The point is it's 2:45 pm and I'm still not hungry. Maybe I'll have a salad later or something. Ughhh.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
inspired by mike jones
I keep pretty consistent tabs on Mike Jones's blog, mainly because its hilarious and all of the entries have that Family Guy quality in which you start with one story, but by the end have spiraled off into a completely different place and are just sitting there scratching your head and thinking "how did we make such a smooth topical transition from jackalopes to the battle of Wounded Knee?"
Anyway, I also like reading his stuff because he has a way of making Columbia fascinating. Like, every time I'm on there he has a new set of photos up or an insane story about something that happened to him or new people/animals he met and had some kind of bizarre experience with. This is a quality that I do not possess, but am going to consciously strive for. Something I've noticed about myself is that within a few months of moving to a new city, I become bored with it. I used to think that it was because I was a child of the world, and so sophisticated that I needed constant new stimuli in order for my exceptional mind to function at its peak. But now I think it's just laziness. I get bored, or sad, or even just go to the same coffee shop one too many times and decide that the city does not have enough to offer so that I may stay entertained. From now on, starting now even, while I'm still in Charleston, I am going to go out and try to make the place in which I reside at any current time interesting and new. Thats my extremely late new years resolution. Maybe I can make it my lent resolution, its only like a week or so late.
In an unrelated topic, I went running in the dark like an idiot the other night and fell and scraped my knee. You know, like you do practically every day when you are a little kid. The difference between me then and me now is that then, I would barely notice it, get dirt all in it, fall again and scrape off the scab, and generally not give a damn. Now, as an adult? Oh my god. It is debilitating. Putting on jeans? Ouch. Taking a shower? Tedious, don't disturb the scab with your loofah. Bending at the knee to retrieve something off the floor? Out of the question. At what age did I become such a pussy? Depressing.
Oh, and I just read about that trainer that got killed by the Orca whale at Sea World. It's sad for her family of course. But when you take a 7 ton alpha predator accustomed to living in thousands of miles of open ocean and force it to live in a swimming pool and do party tricks...the blame just can't be fairly laid on the whale. The KILLER WHALE. That's its actual name for crissakes. This also goes for people who build their homes in the middle of a cougar habitat in the desert and are shocked when their pets and children are eaten. This also goes for people like Steve Irwin. This also goes for Seigfried and Roy. Be reasonable people, we don't even have claws for crying out loud.
Anyway, I also like reading his stuff because he has a way of making Columbia fascinating. Like, every time I'm on there he has a new set of photos up or an insane story about something that happened to him or new people/animals he met and had some kind of bizarre experience with. This is a quality that I do not possess, but am going to consciously strive for. Something I've noticed about myself is that within a few months of moving to a new city, I become bored with it. I used to think that it was because I was a child of the world, and so sophisticated that I needed constant new stimuli in order for my exceptional mind to function at its peak. But now I think it's just laziness. I get bored, or sad, or even just go to the same coffee shop one too many times and decide that the city does not have enough to offer so that I may stay entertained. From now on, starting now even, while I'm still in Charleston, I am going to go out and try to make the place in which I reside at any current time interesting and new. Thats my extremely late new years resolution. Maybe I can make it my lent resolution, its only like a week or so late.
In an unrelated topic, I went running in the dark like an idiot the other night and fell and scraped my knee. You know, like you do practically every day when you are a little kid. The difference between me then and me now is that then, I would barely notice it, get dirt all in it, fall again and scrape off the scab, and generally not give a damn. Now, as an adult? Oh my god. It is debilitating. Putting on jeans? Ouch. Taking a shower? Tedious, don't disturb the scab with your loofah. Bending at the knee to retrieve something off the floor? Out of the question. At what age did I become such a pussy? Depressing.
Oh, and I just read about that trainer that got killed by the Orca whale at Sea World. It's sad for her family of course. But when you take a 7 ton alpha predator accustomed to living in thousands of miles of open ocean and force it to live in a swimming pool and do party tricks...the blame just can't be fairly laid on the whale. The KILLER WHALE. That's its actual name for crissakes. This also goes for people who build their homes in the middle of a cougar habitat in the desert and are shocked when their pets and children are eaten. This also goes for people like Steve Irwin. This also goes for Seigfried and Roy. Be reasonable people, we don't even have claws for crying out loud.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
what of the wretched hollow
Something really strange happened today and its throwing me for a loop. Normally I don't like to acknowledge death beyond personal reflection because it is so easy to go from honoring a person's memory to making grief all about yourself. But I figure since only like 5 people read this, and they all like me, that I'm ok.
I was in Portland this past week, and on Monday I went into a record store to pick up some CDs. There was an attractive half-asian guy with a hipster-style mustache working the counter, and for the first time in I don't know how long I was reminded of this guy Greg. Who I barely even knew. It was weird that he even came to mind, as we only met a couple of times, and never even interacted outside of his and Carmen's house parties. But I knew a lot about him, simply because of how highly regarded he was by Kelly and a bunch of other mutual friends. From what I gather he was one rad dude.
Today I found out that he took his own life Tuesday. I feel very affected by it, but not in a melodramatic 'someone i know died, oh what a shame' type way. I feel affected by it because something like this makes you realize that you never really know what someone is going through. I've experienced emotional pain that at the time felt bottomless and toxic, but never once did I feel that I wanted to end it in such a permanent way. What he must have been feeling had to be unbearable. And if this was indeed a situation where no one saw it coming, trying to cover it up with positive affectations had to be even worse.
I know what the bible says about stuff like this. Everyone down here does. But I would like to believe that our God is more compassionate than we have made him out to be. I hope Greg's ok.
I was in Portland this past week, and on Monday I went into a record store to pick up some CDs. There was an attractive half-asian guy with a hipster-style mustache working the counter, and for the first time in I don't know how long I was reminded of this guy Greg. Who I barely even knew. It was weird that he even came to mind, as we only met a couple of times, and never even interacted outside of his and Carmen's house parties. But I knew a lot about him, simply because of how highly regarded he was by Kelly and a bunch of other mutual friends. From what I gather he was one rad dude.
Today I found out that he took his own life Tuesday. I feel very affected by it, but not in a melodramatic 'someone i know died, oh what a shame' type way. I feel affected by it because something like this makes you realize that you never really know what someone is going through. I've experienced emotional pain that at the time felt bottomless and toxic, but never once did I feel that I wanted to end it in such a permanent way. What he must have been feeling had to be unbearable. And if this was indeed a situation where no one saw it coming, trying to cover it up with positive affectations had to be even worse.
I know what the bible says about stuff like this. Everyone down here does. But I would like to believe that our God is more compassionate than we have made him out to be. I hope Greg's ok.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
siiiiggggghhhhhhhh
THIS is such a relief to read. I swear to god sometimes I feel like my friends and I are the only women like this on the entire fucking planet.
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