Rape Jokes Aren't Funny

WARNING: This post contains rape triggers.

So, I was going to start this post with a screen shot of the tweets that inspired it, but of course he deleted them. Can't say I'm disappointed though.

Therefore, here are the tweets almost exactly as written; as they happened just a few minutes ago, I recall them very well.

Random guy retweeted by MothPete: No matter how many times I tell them "Sshhh," I can't get girls to stop screaming with excitement when I give them surprise hugs in a parking garage.
Me to MothPete: Wow, a rape joke. Classy. Unfollowed.
MothPete to me: Sshhh.

Not only did he RT a rape joke, but he felt the need to throw the punchline back at me. I then blocked him. I don't want to hear another word from him. I wonder if he thought better of his actions though, as he deleted both of those tweets soon after.

Not only is the joke tasteless, but it's a HUGE rape trigger for unsuspecting followers, and makes a joke of something that has ruined countless women's lives. How is that funny? Why is that worth sharing?

When I was 11, I was babysitting my 5-year-old sister one summer afternoon while our parents were out. Our neighborhood was full of kids, and we visited her friend Raymond's house to hang out with them. Raymond was her age, and he had a 17-year-old half-brother. The little ones played in the playroom, while myself, the 17-year-old Billy, a 14-year-old boy, two 13-year-old girls, and a ten-year-old girl hung out in the living room and decided to play Truth or Dare. Yes, it was an odd assortment of ages, and unfortunately these kids tended to be quite cruel to me, but I desperately wanted to fit in.

The game started with stupid things: standing on your head, admitting crushes, etc. I should have known it was out of my league when I was dared to kiss the 14-year-old and he shoved his tongue so far down my throat, I literally gagged. That was my first kiss. I don't count it as such, but it technically was. Disgusting.

Not long after, I was dared to go into Billy's bedroom with him and let him go as far as he wanted until I said "Stop." Yes, I kept choosing Dare, because the deep parts of me they were trying to get at with Truth questions were even harder for me. Plus, picking Dare was "cool." So I did it. We went in his room.

He locked the door behind us, which immediately worried me. He gently pushed me and I fell on the bed in shock. I immediately said "Stop," but he laughed and said that's not how it works. He climbed on top of me, lifted my shirt, and started kissing my stomach. I again said "Stop!" and started to struggle. He got angry and tried to hold me down, but I was tiny and wiggly and squirmed away, unlocking the door and running out of the room before he could stop me.

I immediately grabbed my sister and headed home without saying a word to anyone else. I was still in shock. Even at that age, I knew it was disgusting for a 17-year-old to even WANT to do things like that to someone my age. I felt sick to my stomach and finally realized what messed-up kids these were. Spoiled rich brats that always got what they wanted and played with my life for entertainment.

I never told my parents. My father either wouldn't have believed me or would have tried to kill the kid; I had no idea. My mom would have been livid but too scared to do anything. It was easier just to forget about it. After all, I wasn't "really" raped, I told myself.

That fall I attended a friend's birthday party; a group of kids all my age that I trusted. They started playing Truth or Dare and I ran into the closet and cried. I couldn't play the damn game again till college.

Yes, I was lucky. I wasn't raped, my virginity wasn't ripped from me, I didn't have to endure someone unwanted inside of me. But I was violated, body and mind. I was hurt. I was damaged.

This is the tip of the iceberg of what rape does. I can't even imagine what it's like for others. I tell this story because it wasn't my fault and I'm not ashamed. Rape is never your fault. And it's NOT A JOKE.

The Etsy Drama

I'm sick of arguing about it on Twitter, and 140 characters cannot allow clear expression of my thoughts.  I just want to make my feelings clear and put this to rest.


I believe in free speech.  I also believe that:


...a privately owned store or marketplace has the right to refuse to sell something.
...a store or marketplace whose Terms of Service state: “Use of mature, profane and/or racist language or images in the public areas of your Etsy shop is not permitted. This includes your username, Public Profile, item titles, tags, avatar, banner and/or shop selections” and “Items that promote or glorify hatred, racial, religious intolerance" has a RESPONSIBILITY to uphold those terms.
...nudity and swearing are not automatically inappropriate or offensive.
...anything glorifying rape IS and always WILL BE automatically inappropriate and offensive, no matter the circumstances.
...glorifying rape or making fun of AIDS or Down's Syndrome is hateful and has no place on Etsy.
...other sellers suffer when Etsy refuses to shut down a horribly hateful and inappropriate store. People will boycott Etsy, and innocent sellers suffer.  Etsy still makes money off our listing fees, and do not suffer with the rest of us.
...banning a store that glorifies hatred and makes fun of tragic diseases and birth defects will not start a "slippery slope."  There is nothing slippery about this situation.  It will not lead to the banning of artistic nudity. It will keep Etsy the loving, supportive community it was meant to be.

In my opinion, this is appropriate:
(Caution, nudity)
http://www.etsy.com/listing/64890651/pastel-drawing-of-raven-haired-woman-on

And this is NOT:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/65234494/congratulations-card-youve-got-aids

That's the best way I can explain how I feel about this.  For a much more eloquent explanation of the situation, please see this PRBreakfastClub blog.  Thank you.

Beauty

I am a geek, I am a woman, and I am beautiful.

I hardly ever feel beautiful, but I'm working on it.  Fun self-portraits help.  I often hate myself.  Blogging about confidence helps.

I am married to the love of my life.  He thinks I'm beautiful.  I love him and respect his opinions, so I'm working on recognizing my beauty.

My body is a canvas.  I use it to express myself and what I love.  Music, nature, and Simon mainly.

I am overweight, mostly because my mother died and depression kicked in.  I refuse to think less of myself because I take up too much space.  I refuse to think I'm unworthy because I don't fit some mysterious ideal of beauty.  I refuse to continue hating myself, because I am loved and worthy of that love.

I am a woman.  I am sexual, strong, romantic, and wondrous.  I can kick your ass or bake you cookies.  I can play World of Warcraft with you or crochet you a scarf.  I can ride a motorcycle and sing like an angel.  I can read a book faster than you could imagine, and have an intelligent conversation about it.  I laugh at fart jokes on Family Guy and I love babies and kittens.  I am NOTHING if not impossible to label.  I am soft and hard, kind if you're good or malicious if you hurt someone I love, light and dark, and everything in between.

I am beautiful, I am loved, and I matter.

teenSpeak

I may be showing my age here, but I have to say, I am getting really annoyed at the way teens communicate online. It's not all of them, but some have such an atrocious grasp of the English language, it makes me want to cry.

Case study: I have two cousins, both around age 15, both female, both live in Arizona. Cousin S is on my dad's side of the family, Cousin J is on my mom's side (she's my mother's cousin's granddaughter, but that counts as a cousin in my huge Italian family, hehe). I am friends with both of them on Facebook. See some of their updates:

Cousin S:
...the orange hair is back!!!!
...doesn't want to go to physical therapy tomorrow!!!!
...feels stupid

Teenager-ish, but reasonable. Now see...

Cousin J:
...bord dont want to go to school:(
...dance tonight then gym ugh not looking forward to it haah so tired from schoolhow many days until the next break
...goingt to apple bees with the fam. haha

For some reason, half or more of her updates include "haha" even when it's not something funny (like "goin 2 the mall haha"). Her spelling is awful, and her friends' responses are even worse (all caps, complete netspeak, etc.). I feel like I need to decode her messages sometimes. All of her pics are completely inappropriate for a girl her age (she and her friends in bikinis trying to look sexy) and she's constantly begging for people to comment on her photos.

Cousin S, if she posts pictures of herself and her friends in bathing suits, always is in a funny or dorky pose, just trying to be funny. She uses Facebook to keep in contact with out-of-state family, and her friends seem to leave very respectful comments.

Now I know these kids are growing up texting, which I didn't start until after college. By neccesity, abbreviations are used in texting, and it has spilled over into all of their online communication. I admit to using lol, omg, zomg, brb, and wtf quite a bit, but only because they're fun, and MUCH shorter than the original phrase. I have never typed wuteva, 2 instead of to/too, 4 instead of for, u instead of you, ur instead of you are, etc. I'd rather shoot myself.

If I make a typo on Twitter, I erase the tweet and re-do it. I am a completely anal spelling/grammar Nazi. Still, I feel like I'm from another world sometimes when my 21-year-old sister, only six years younger than me, types emails and texts in a seemingly different language.

Some teen tweets that make me laugh:

~~~~~
BISH, I LOVE YOU SHUT UP. LMFAO

its been obvious dat wuteva i like, u and tnice will say da opposite.

ha! gyrl wuteva workz!

yeah! for realz! i wanna see dat!
~~~~~

Yeah. 'Nuff sed. =P

Drunk driving

Today is a serious post. I am absolutely horrified by a story I heard this morning. A mother in NY loaded her two children and three nieces into the car and drove the wrong way down the highway under the influence of alcohol and marijuana. She hit an SUV head-on and killed all three passengers in that vehicle, herself, her daughter, and her three nieces. Her son was the lone survivor.

Read the article here...

Another man in MA was arrested for drunk driving...for the 12th time! Why is he still on the road???

Read the article here...

The problem is, as Jon Keller said on WBZ radio this morning, people make the choice to drive drunk. They may have a drinking problem, and they may need help, but they make the choice to be selfish and risk lives by driving drunk. Maybe they're too cheap to take a cab, or they don't want the inconvenience of retrieving their car the next day, or they just don't care.

But they make that choice.

Luckily, no one I know has ever been injured by a drunk driver. It has not affected my life directly. I do feel for the people affected by them, because I am far too empathetic and sensitive sometimes. I grieve for that little boy who survived and will probably be mentally scarred for life with survivor's guilt (he's five years old; he'll remember). I cry for the lives wasted, the futures that will never be, and the absolute horror of how preventable these tragedies are.

It sickens me. And it will never end.

Getting carded

I get carded for a variety of reasons. My height (I'm 4'11"), my hair (I recently got bangs and they make me look a bit younger), etc. I'm 27, so I'm still in a reasonable range for carding. But Saturday, I got carded for a brand new reason: my voice.

I walked in, grabbed two 6-packs of beer, and put them on the counter. He rang them up, I handed him my debit card. He asked me, "Credit or debit?" and I answered, "Debit." That was when he asked for my ID.

See, when I talk to strangers, I use my "polite voice," which is a bit higher than my casual speaking voice. I don't do it on purpose, and sometimes people giggle when I talk to them normally but answer the phone in a completely different voice. It's just one of my quirks.

Apparently, my "polite voice" also makes me sound younger. I actually got carded because I "sound" young. I find that hilarious.

Anyone else have any funny reasons for getting carded?

Up in smoke

For any of my readers that smoke, I apologize in advance, because this post will probably offend you. I love you all, but this is something that means a lot to me.

I hate smoking and I think it should be illegal. I am absolutely adamant about this, and it horrifies me that in this day and age, with all our medical knowledge, people are still allowed to walk around and smoke in public.

I know laws have been made; no smoking within a certain number of feet of public building entrances, no smoking in public buildings or workplaces, etc. What angers me is that first of all, these laws are hardly ever enforced, and second of all, these laws are not nearly strict enough.

I see many examples every day that convince me of the need to ban smoking. As Simon and I ate outside at a mall restaurant yesterday, someone smoking in the entrance of the mall caused us to cough as it drifted towards us (right under a "No Smoking" sign, no joke). I once watched a mother walk her child to school while puffing away right next to him. I have to pass no less than three smokers every time I walk to the store for lunch (as I try to be healthy by taking a walk). People congregate in the doorway of my office to smoke on break, especially when it's raining, no matter how many times they've been told not to. I used to work in a dry cleaners where the owner would smoke IN the building (where I was the only non-smoker, no one else cared).

If someone was drinking alcohol in the street, walking past them would not get me drunk or hurt my liver. What they're consuming does not affect me (unless they get behind the wheel of a car). If I walk by someone smoking in the street, I can get cancer. CANCER. Especially if you consider the number of times I am exposed to smoking every day, not just once in a while. I am not going to cross a busy Boston street just to avoid them. I cannot avoid the entrance of my office building. If I tell each and every one of them that it bothers me, I am going to get the reputation of a nagging bitch.

If we can't outlaw it altogether, then limit it to places it absolutely cannot harm or affect anyone else. Private homes (not condos where the vents can lead next door) without children, private clubs where people want to smoke, etc. NOT outside. Not in your car where it comes through my vents when I drive behind you, and then you fling a butt out the window and start a fire. I am sick of feeling sick when I walk past these people. They complain about their rights to smoke, but I want my right to clean air.

My father smoked around me as a child, and I now have asthma. Stairs leave me winded, I cannot run, and I cannot be outside in extremely hot or cold weather. Smoking ruined my body. I want to prevent it from ruining everyone else's before it's too late.

Escaping the cube

(From 7/2/09)

It’s days like this that make me wish I didn’t work in a corporate cube environment. I have it pretty good; no strict dress code, a computer to goof off on all day, a job where I get to sit on my ass. But sometimes, the monotony is draining, and the rules are constraining, and I start counting down the hypothetical two years till I quit and start my own business.

My new laptop arrived today. I had it sent to work as it’s not safe for such an item to sit at my front door all day, especially in the torrential rain we’ve been having. But I can’t play with it, because it’s against the rules. No non-company electronics, peripherals, etc. allowed at your desk. That means no cell, iPod, radio, etc. I am beyond bored, and I have fun sitting on the counter over there, mocking me. Too bad.

I’m stuck here also unable to download anything. Or watch YouTube. Facebook JUST starting working again, and I think it’s because they let their internet filter service expire since we’re low on money. I’m sure I’m starting to annoy people with my constant Facebook quiz results and new Bejeweled high scores. That got old fast. What next? Twitter? I follow 119 people currently, mainly because I refresh it so often that I get annoyed seeing no new updates. I click on the articles and funny pictures and then I’m bored again.

Can’t read a book. Need to look like I’m working. As long as I’m on a computer, I’m “working.” But reading a book in between orders? Oh no no, not here.

Also, my cube is one of five that are in the hallway. Yes, you read that right, the HALLWAY. We don’t take customer phone calls so we don’t need the privacy of a bay like the rest of them. But guess what we do get? Every single stupid co-worker who thinks the hallway is a GREAT place to have a personal, loud, or otherwise embarrassing cell phone conversation. They know we’re here. They know we’re working (sometimes). They just DON’T CARE. I once heard a girl yell into her phone, “When I get to that bitch’s crib, I’m gonna mess some shit up.” Seriously. And most people here have college degrees. I’m not sure where they found HER.

That back-up career plan? Wedding planner. I’m having so much fun with my own that I’m seriously considering it as a career. The plan is to start taking classes after my wedding, then use my sabbatical month that I get at my five-year anniversary to start setting it up. Come back from sabbatical, BAM two-weeks notice, and Sarah’s on a new path to a new life. Working from home, on MY schedule, on MY rules. Goddamn, that sounds good.

Sick of salads

(From 6/22/09)

I am officially sick of salads, and I haven't even had one in weeks. I've been eating horribly, again, for the past few weeks, and I've probably gained. Remember how I was trying to lose weight? Yeah. Not working.

So I'm going the liquid lunch route. I had my usual granola bar on the way to work, and my Jimmy Dean D-light for breakfast (quite yummy and only 230 cal.). Then for lunch, Odwalla drink and a string cheese. I just don't feel like eating another salad. I'm thinking of getting Slim-Fast shakes and bars. The easier it is for me, the better. I'm just too fucking lazy to do it right. I can't do it for two meals a day, I'd go nuts, but the healthy breakfast and liquid lunch thing might work. Of course, after drinking said lunch, my company puts out a variety of leftover sandwiches from a meeting, including ones on fucking CROISSANTS. Torture me some more, why don't you? Luckily I only heard about it. If I had actually seen them, it may have been over. Trying to make healthier dinners that both Simon and I like. Succeeding sometimes.

I still have over a year till my wedding. But on this roller-coaster, I'll be lucky to be down by 5 lbs. at that point. I know I know...I'm pretty the way I am, Simon loves me the way I am, don't let society dictate how I feel about myself...but you know what? I HATE BEING FAT. I cry over it. I lose sleep over it. And it's just plain unhealthy. I have asthma already, I don't need this extra 70 lbs. weighing down on my lungs. I know I shouldn't "diet," I should have a "lifestyle change," but that change requires a lot of work I'm not willing to do, no matter how badly I want it.

I am now the heaviest I have ever been. I'm pushing 200, if I haven't hit it already, and trust me, I'm afraid to find out. This has GOT to stop. But nothing makes me crankier than being hungry, and I eat when I'm cranky. I hate vegetables. I will not deny myself that occasional burger for dinner. But in between all that, I have GOT to change. Goddamit, I wish I had the strength to either DO IT or be happy the way I am. Having neither is just plain torture.

Adoption

(From 4/30/09)

So, some people have been wondering why for most of my life I couldn’t wait to have babies, and now I suddenly could totally live without the experience. No, it is not because that’s how Simon feels and I just want him to like me. I’m not in high school, and I have a mind of my own now. I shall explain.

When I was dating Chris, things were obviously not ideal, which I realized later. So of course, to fix that, I wanted kids. Like so many people, it stemmed from a desire to be loved, and who would love me more than my own offspring? I do enjoy children, to an extent, and have worked with them a lot. The fact that most of those jobs were somewhat miserable failed to register I guess. My rational mind glossed over the facts while my irrational mind clung to the illusion that I couldn’t WAIT to have kids.

Then that relationship fell apart. I knew I still wanted to be a mother someday, but it wasn’t as important as making myself happy first. I dated around, met Simon, and the rest is history. =) But what finally changed was my attitude about children. When people I know started having them, I used to be insanely jealous. Now I just look at it as another opportunity to play with a cute kid that I can give back after. Yes, I’m good with babies, and they’re adorable, but waking up at 2 am for feedings? The horrible things pregnancy does to your body? Not what I looked forward to. Yes, everyone tells me it’s beautiful and wonderful and everything is fine when it’s actually you having the kid. But it still doesn’t appeal to me. Childbirth scares the bajeezus out of me. I’ve never had surgery, and I’d like to avoid it.

Simon also pointed out, as I’ve seen with many friends, all the horrible things that can go wrong with a newborn. Narrow aortas that require heart surgery on a 3-day-old infant, squished heads that need a baby-sized helmets to fix, and the list goes on and on. Simon had quite a few issues himself, which I don’t blame him for being reluctant to pass on. So I thought about it, and I really like the idea of adoption. I can skip pregnancy, infancy, and potty-training, and still have a kid? Awesome! And in MA, it’s free to adopt a child from the DSS system after a 6-month trial foster period. I really like this idea. No birth defects to worry about, and I get to choose the gender of my child to boot.

It may sound selfish, like I’m trying to take the easy way out. If I want to be a parent, I should be willing to make sacrifices and take chances, yes? But how about this? There are SO many children waiting to be adopted. The population is WAY too high to sustain. I’m doing the country a favor. I see nothing wrong with that. =)

Please, baby-makers, take no offense. Obviously, someone has to actually have children. I see adoption as my stand against people who pop out 8 kids and live on welfare. I just can’t justify having (or adopting) more children than I can reasonably provide for. I want to send her to college, I want her to have her own room, and maybe I’ll buy her a car. I can’t do that if I have 8 kids, or even 3 or 4. People need to start taking parenthood more seriously, and stop depending on other people to provide for them. I see excessive baby-making as a form of greed: I want lots of kids so I’m going to have them! Me me me! But the children have to live with your choices. And if things go wrong, maybe I’m going to be the one taking care of your little girl someday, the one YOU couldn’t provide for.

Potty talk

(From 4/15/09)

I am fairly certain that you can deduce a lot about the employees of a company based on the company bathrooms. My desk is right outside the single-person bathroom, so I see EVERYTHING. I believe I work with imbeciles. Here are my reasons.

I’m pretty sure I was told at a very young age never to flush anything other than toilet paper. Paper towels are a no-no. So why is it, in a bathroom with TWO trash baskets, that people insist on trying to flush them? We’re not out of toilet paper. The paper towels are inaccessible from the toilet. So someone dries their hands, or blows their nose, or gods-know-what, and flushes the paper towels. Now it’s clogged for the rest of the day. Good job.

On the same note, there are two trash baskets. Throw stuff away instead of dropping it on the floor. Or flushing it, but we already covered that.

Ladies, we have one of those “sanitary waste disposal units.” It’s very handy. USE IT. Trying to flush that stuff is just GROSS. Yes, we’ve had that problem. More than once.

Guys, we know you pee standing up and don’t need to use TP. Good for you. But please, for the love of all that’s holy, FLUSH YOUR PEE. There’s a thing called splash-back. Gross. We don’t want it. Yes, this is a common problem, even though our company is only 25% male.

I have a saying, “If at first you don’t succeed, flush flush again.” More times than I’d like to count, I enter the bathroom to find all kinds of unsavory eliminations still occupying the bowl. I flush, and lo and behold, it goes away! Wouldn’t it be lovely if the person who put them there tried the same thing?

I have a small room freshener spray at my desk. I often have to use it after other people use the bathroom so I can enter and still breathe. If people brought their own, everyone’s life would be happier. And less stinky. Especially for me, who sits right outside the bathroom. Yeah, you’ve seen me. And I know what you did in there. o.O

“If you sprinkle while you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat.” I can’t take credit for that one. And my company can’t take credit for following it, because no one does. Again, gross.

My life near the bathroom has its ups and downs. I can go as often as I’d like, I know when it’s empty so I can dash in, and I drink water all damn day. But with these issues, I sometimes wonder if it’s worth it. I seriously think I work with 5-year-olds. Someone needs to bring them to the potty and inspect everything when they’re done. Obviously they can’t handle it. It would be lovely if one day, my company treated their bathrooms like their own, as if they’d actually have to clean it. The poor Hispanic guy who DOES clean it would appreciate it too. Thank you.

Weight loss blues

(From 3/30/09)

I'm finding myself sinking back into depression lately, and it bothers me because my logical mind knows I have no good reason. I have the love of a wonderful, beautiful man, a home, money in the bank, plenty of food and clothing, an easy and stable job, and I have time and means to pursue hobbies and leisure activities. So what's wrong?

Of course, the age-old self-esteem-killer called "weight."

I was considered skinny until about age 18. At 4'11" and 100 lbs., I was pretty tiny. But then came college, and that gods-awful dorm cafeteria. Your choices today? Carbs, carbs, and more carbs. In my 6 years away at college, I steadily gained not only the "Freshman 15," but almost another 15 each year after that. Then, a month after college graduation, my mother passed away. And that caused another 20 lb. gain.

My life at that time was more than stressful. Left with a house, a 17-year-old sister, and a boyfriend that was an emotional drain, I had little motivation to lose the weight. Eventually, things started falling into place. I ditched the negative boyfriend of six years, sold the house, and moved in with the love of my life. I got a promotion at work, my sister was excelling in college and had her own apartment, and my relationships with my extended family members started getting better as I finally matured. That one thing has kept me back...all that excess weight.

Simon was on Jenny Craig when I moved in. I joined him enthusiastically, plopped down my $400 and signed up. I lasted maybe a month before three microwaved meals a day started to drive me insane. I cheated *more* simply because I was fed up with the limited meals. I did some math and convinced Simon to quit Jenny with me, as we'd spend $500 or less per month just shopping at the market and BJ's, as opposed to $800 a month on Jenny. I vowed to cook for us, and cook healthy. Another good idea that didn't quite pan out as expected.

I discovered I love to cook. Yes, some days I don't feel like it, but most of the time I downright enjoy it. The problem is, no matter how "healthy" I tried to cook, it was always more calories than a Jenny meal. We both still cheat a lot, and eating out is our huge weakness. Eventually, BOTH our weights started creeping back up.

Now here's the killer: not only do I feel guilty about my OWN weight, but I feel like I brought Simon down with me, as he was doing fine on Jenny before I came into the picture. And the more depressed I get about this, the more my self-sabotaging urges kick in...and I eat worse. A fast food meal grabbed after work when I've had a shitty day (and I don't even gorge myself, a small sandwich and small fries is all I'll allow, though still bad for me). Convincing Simon to order Chinese or pizza for dinner when I'm not in the mood to cook. And the more I do it, the worse I feel, and the catch-22 continues.

I know I'm not unique. I know I'm not alone. But that doesn't help me when faced with a choice: what's good for me, or what tastes good. I'm not an over-eater; I actually have a rather small appetite. It's the TYPE of food I eat, not how much. I love bread and cheese more than anything. BAD. I could live on pizza. BAD. I love fast food way more than I should. BAD. It depresses me to give up things I love. I get cranky and unreasonable when hungry. I'm a fucking child, obviously.

Here is what I *try* to do:
7:30 am - Granola bar and coffee with skim and Splenda on the drive to work.
10:00 am - Light microwaved breakfast sandwich and fruit cup in light syrup at my desk.
1:30 pm - Salad and banana or apple, with Crystal Light to drink.
3:00 pm - Rice cake to tide me over till dinner.
6:30 pm - Dinner, usually a lean meat, rice or wheat pasta, and veggies.
8:30 pm - A light dessert, such as Smart Ones frozen desserts.

Here is where the problems are:
Lunch - I buy my salad from the corner store everyday, because I am even less likely to eat one if I have to make it myself, and eventually I let all the veggies go bad in the fridge. Unfortunately, that corner store also sells yummy sandwiches and chips. Guess what I often get when I just can't motivate myself to get the salad?
Between lunch and dinner - This is when I'm normally starving. I know I need to find some more substantial snack to tide me over, because this often leads me to eat something horrible for me on the drive home. Like at that McDonald's that's located so conveniently right off the highway halfway home.
After dinner - Prime snack time. The "healthy" dinner has worn thin and I'm dying to snack. We try not to keep anything too unhealthy in the house, but even healthy snacks are bad in large quantities.

So I try to diet. It leaves me hungry and cranky, so I eat things that are bad for me. I feel guilty and depressed and eat more things that are bad for me. My clothes are getting tight, and I get more depressed. I am *sick* of being plus-sized, sick of clothes not fitting me right, and sick of not having the energy to do something about it. I know I'm at the tail-end of the winter blues; with the warmer weather, we'll get outside more and hopefully get some exercise. But that treadmill has been sitting there all winter, and how many times did I use it? Three? What is most frustrating to me is the fact that I HATE the way I am, yet can't motivate myself to change, and sabotage myself at every turn.

Being heavy makes me more aware of my other flaws; my acne, my dry skin, the excess hair that comes with being Italian (which I *fastidiously* rid myself of), and the size of my nose. Any of these things alone are no big deal, but all together and combined with my weight makes me feel DISGUSTING. And why? I have a boyfriend. I don't have a job where I'm judged by my looks. Even my family has stopped needling me about my weight. I'm judging myself by standards that no one else is. But I'm not happy, and I won't be until I change.

It's Monday. I haven't cheated yet, but the day is still young. I'm trying to start fresh, trying to get through today without any screw-ups. I'm off to buy my salad now...wish me luck.

The sad state of customer service today

(From 3/26/09)

A: (mumbled) Dom'no, pi'up oh dee-vee?
B: Wha...?
A: (mumbled) Dom'no, pi'up oh dee-vee?
B: Oh! Delivery, please.
A: Adds?
B: 300 A Street.
A: Pah-fa?
B: 4th floor.
A: NO, pah-men?
B: Oh! No apartment, it's a business.
A: Wha want.
B: I was trying to order the sandwich, chips, and soda deal for $6.99 online, but it won't let me pick the chips and it won't let me finish the order without them. Can I order with the same coupon over the phone?
A: Fi-teen dolla minmum.
B: Okay, that's not what I was asking, and I've placed an order for less than that before. Forget it. (hangs up)

Okay, so yes, I was "B," and yes, I was slightly rude at the end. But I am just SICK to death of the lack of customer service these days. In this economy (I hate that phrase, but I need to use it), one should feel lucky, PRIVILEGED even, to have a job. Would it kill them to at least pretend to care?

The sad thing is, no one else wants to do what they're doing, so they get away with murder simply because they are willing to do the job, usually for minimum wage. But what I don't understand is why people are too lazy to do their job well. Does it really take that much more energy to feign interest in the order, to enunciate words clearly and listen to the customer's needs? It seems obvious to me: do your job well, keep customers coming back, keep the company in business, keep your job. It's the apathy, the utter lack of effort, that appalls me.

I've worked in customer service in many different jobs since I was 16. I started at Michael's Arts and Crafts, worked a summer at Things Remembered, spent five years at the counter of a dry cleaner's, and been at a call center since 2006 now. Maybe it's because I studied theater and psychology in college, but I've never had a problem pretending to love my job. When I sound happy, my customer tends to be happy, and I have less problems to deal with overall. It's self-preservation, and makes my life easier.

To anyone out there in customer service: PLEASE, just try pretending to care. Pretend to like your job. Otherwise, it's going to be a very unpleasant experience for both of us.