Earworm Wednesday: Sigh, Michigan

I've been listening to Erykah Badu's New Amerykah Parts 1 & 2 over the last few days. Seems fitting after yesterday's election-- she sings about complacency.

Sigh, sigh, sigh. 

Here is one of my favorite songs from Part 2... it's not political, unless the "love" referred to in this song is the United States of America.

 Happy morning after election day!

I Love Candy and Gone Girl is Candy

I read a lot. Like any good English degree holding human, I like to read what I call Grown Up Books (Pulitzer Prize winners, The Classics, books that make me think about the Big Questions, etc.). But in between those books? I like Candy. You know what I mean. I read Gender Trouble by Judith Butler (Grown Up Book) followed by The Bedwetter by Sarah Silverman (Candy). I read Atonement by Ian McEwan (Grown Up Book) followed by-- and I can't believe I'm saying actually admitting this-- Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella (PURE Candy... makes your teeth hurt, I'm embarrassed now).

When I first read the Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, I read it in a day. I just could not stop reading it. People were trying to talk to me and I couldn't even respond to them, so into this book was I. I gasped out loud and laughed out loud at how psycho the story was. I ended up reading Flynn's two other books as soon as I could-- Dark Places is my favorite. Her stories are Twizzlers (twisted and delicious) with fun characters. Now, I classify her books as Candy. They are fun, they aren't making a Big Important Statement about anything. They are just really effed up stories that you can devour as fast as a box of Swedish Fish. I like red candy.

"Totally twisted," just like Gillian Flynn's fiction. Yummy.

I just left an afternoon showing of Gone Girl and I wasn't disappointed. Gillian Flynn wrote the screenplay and David Fincher directed so it was bound to be a good, nasty, and twisted book-to-film adaptation. However, despite my excitement, I found myself feeling irritated going in to view the film by the feminist rage that has been pointed at Flynn since the movie has received so much buzz. That it glamorizes rape culture and makes violence against women a punchline. A piece from Ms. Magazine's blog about how the conversation about how white privilege is missing from the Gone Girl debates made me think: Since when is Gillian Flynn responsible for addressing every single issue in our society through her Candy stories? 

Does Stephen King get this much shit whenever one of his movies comes out? "How dare you, Stephen King. I can't believe you didn't take the opportunity to really dig deep into animal abuse issues with Pet Cemetery. You sir, are not on the side of the animals."

I bet he doesn't. Because he's a dude.

I shall now go back to my regular reading schedule. Next up is The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. I haven't started it yet, but I'm sure if it is made into a film, there will be something she should have addressed that she didn't address and how dare she.

The Purge Project Part 2: The Hot Mess Express

 I've always loved clothes. For as long as I can remember, I've been into dressing up, fashion trends, and experimenting with fashion. As a kid, I got yelled at for using all of the tape and newspapers in the house to make paper dresses. 

Matching visor, shorts, and socks? Pink My Little Pony purse? Plaid skirt with bows?

Pulling. It. Off.

In high school, I tore through the Salvation Army and thrift stores searching for one-of-a-kind pieces. I even looked into the Savannah College of Art and Design for fashion design, but it was too expensive. I don't love all of my past fashion choices, but I've loved trying it all!

Let's just NOT talk about vests. 

When I was a teacher, my favorite compliments about my clothes were, "Oh, Ms. H! My daughter stops by your room every day just to see what you're wearing. She loves your style!"

and

"Ms. H, I act better in your class 'cuz you dress like you care."

and even

"Ms H. you look like a JCPenny catalog lady today." (I responded with, "Thanks?" The kid said it was a compliment. I'll take it.)

My love of fashion was instilled in me at a young age by my beautiful mother, who has always looked flawless. I would spend hours trying on her dresses, shoes, and jewelry. Good thing I got to play with her clothes when I was young, because I quickly trumped her tiny Filipina size by the end of fifth grade.

Wilma makes late 80s fashion look damn good. I don't know if I ever have or will look that good.

I just wanted to give excuses a little background about how I got to be a clothes hoarder. It's my mom's fault! 

No it's not. It's mine. 

Now. The second clothing purge:

The Hubs was out of town for this explosion of stuff that spread throughout the house. He would NOT have been a happy camper if he'd stayed around that weekend. 

After the first purge, I took every piece of clothing and pair of shoes that was left and put it in a pile:

I'm about a third of the way through the pile in this picture. Hannah is helping. 

Then I tried on every piece of clothing that I didn't 100% love. 

The piles of clothes in these pictures are the rejects.

I gained some new insight into myself as I spent 3+ hours trying on every piece of clothing I owned:

1. My body has changed since became more athletic.

Swimming has made the shape of my shoulders thicker 

Biking has made the shape of my legs different. 

None of the clothes that I was holding onto for when I finally "got to my goal weight" would even fit me if I ever reached said goal weight. I mean, I looked like the Hulk in some of my old shirts. 

Plus, if we ever have kids my body will probably change again and I will really never, ever fit into those goal weight clothes. 

They had to go. 

2. Blazers just don't look very good on me. It's time to invest in a really, really nice suit or let go of blazers all together. 

The pile of ill-fitting and cheap blazers from my first days of teaching had to go. 

3. I'm tall-- DUH. How about I stop buying pants that aren't made for tall people? 

The pants that I had to pull down every time I stood up had to go.

4. When you have big boobs, you just can't get shirts with high collars that cover your collar bone. It's not a good look. I can't explain it and I don't want to post a picture because I'm already doing enough revealing of my insecurities by posting the before pictures of my junk room. Let's just say the result of a high collared shirt on a busty gal is a mix of frumpy and saggy. 

Those shirts had to go. 

5. On the big boobs thing... button down shirts don't work and I don't know if they ever will. I need to let go of the idea that button down shirts=professionalism unless I want to invest in a more expensive button down shirt made just for busty gals. 

If I had to safety pin the big boob gap it had to go. 

[via]

6. I used to be so proud of saying, "This shirt was only $5!" or "This is designer and it was only $25!" Then I realized that I still had some of those $5 shirts with tags still on them buried in a pile of other $5 and $25 pieces of clothes that were quickly coming apart and/or didn't look good on me. Just because it's cheap or on clearance doesn't mean I have to buy it. Lesson learned, especially when I had the evidence in a hot mess of piles all around me. 

The cheap clothes that didn't look very good on me had to go.

The biggest lesson learned after trying on all of those clothes:

Buy clothes I love that look really, really good on me-- even if they cost a little more, even if they're not on the clearance rack, even if I could get ten $5 shirts for the cost of one good quality shirt that looks good on me and will last for longer than two washes.

Here is the end result of the second purge:

Just like after the first purge, I say seventy pieces of clothing when that was just what was coming off of hangers. It was probably closer to another hundred pieces of clothing and pairs of shoes (plus other random books and trinkets), which brings the grand total of clothing and shoes from my closet purge to something like...

TWO HUNDRED PIECES 

Part of this load went to Goodwill because it was Sunday and nothing else was open. The rest went to my sisters, mom, 360 Degrees, and the Free Store in Three Rivers. 

I've read about the regret people feel after purging so much of what they own. 

I have yet to feel that regret. 

I feel free.

I'll be gone for vacation and a business trip over the next week and half, but when I get back, I'll write about organizing what I had left, which was still a lot, but felt manageable. 

Other posts in this series:

The Purge Project: An Introduction

The Purge Project Part 2: The Tiny Closet

Hardest Goal Yet Teaser

Yesterday I insanely biked 35 dumb miles to South Haven and then back 35 chafe-enducing and whiny miles to Kalamazoo on the butt-bruising Kal-Haven Trail. I will write about it when I no longer use negative adverbs and adjectives to describe it. ;)

I can't believe I did it. 

Training Update

Week 3 of 6 AKA The Week I SUCKED!
Monday: 21 minute swim, 42 minute bike: Done indoors
Tuesday: 21 minute run, weight lifting and core workout:
This is when my week got complicated because of the Salomon Trail Run Tour. We met up with the Salomon truck at a local trail and I tried on what I thought were these beauts. We embarked on our trail run in a pair of sample shoes. About a mile in, my arches started hurting. I ignored it. Around the end of mile 2, I felt like KNIVES were STABBING my arches. I think my friend Joe thought I was over-exaggerating because I took in a sharp intake of breath every time my foot hit the path. 

I was like Elton at min 1:11 in this video. It really hurt. 

I wondered if you had to pay for the sample shoes if you bled through the footbeds. Thankfully it was only a 3 mile run and when it was over, I sat down to take the shoes off. I was laughing deliriously because of the pain in my arches. The shoes came off and I definitely bled through my socks. The Salomon reps felt horrible, but I told them I should have been fitted instead of running in the first pair of shoes that felt good while standing. I've been dealing with the consequences since Tuesday night. I would post a picture, but I hate feet with a passion.
Wednesday: 28 minute run, 35 minute swim: No run. Swam for 45 minutes instead.
Thursday: Off for parent-teacher conferences: Didn't do anything except develop shin splits from walking all weird-like on my damaged feet because I just had to wear high heels so I could look professional. Ha.
Friday: 70 minute bike: Went out of town. Ate whatever I wanted. Kept walking around on the outside of my feet because Tom's have super high arches and I shouldn't have worn them. Drank a bunch of wine because I was sad about it. Training fail! I have to get it together or I'm gonna hurt myself on June 2nd!
Saturday: Off: Should have done the bike ride here but we babysat the Niece and Nephew instead. Chasing after toddlers is the same as riding a bike for 70 minutes, right?
Sunday: 35 minute run: My feet are mostly healed so I slapped on some band-aids under my socks and got it done. I even went for 45 minutes instead of 35. Then we rode bikes to get a fatty--yet delicious--deep dish pizza. 


Basically over the last two weeks I've started off really well and ended each week horribly. I've got to get it together!! I know I said that last week, but I am 3 weeks out from my first outdoor sprint triathlon and I HAVE to make it through without crying, hurting myself from a lack of training, or negative self-talk.

This could be me in three weeks after not only a 5k (this is pic from last week), but a swim and a bike ride.  I have to get moving. 

Plan for Week 4 of 6 AKA The Week Jen Gets it Together. Is there a pill besides Xanax for "getting it together" and if so can I have one of yours?
Monday: 21 minute swim, 42 minute bike
Tuesday: 23 minute run (on the trail again because I will CONQUER it), weight lifting and core workout
Wednesday: 39 minute swim (the weather is supposed to be awesome, so I'm hoping to go for an open water swim)
Thursday: 31 minute run, but I might bike if my knees are hurting me.
Friday: 77 minute bike
Saturday: Off, but I will do anything I miss on Thursday or Friday. I also get to chaperone prom on this day! This is my favorite part of Senior Season besides watching them walk across the stage.
Sunday: 39 minute run


I think I've totally got this.

Hanging My Head

Watch out... whiny blog post below.

Fifth year teacher burnout is quickly approaching. As a result of this, last Friday I did something kind of stupid crazy different. I gave up my plan period to take over an English 12 class. I needed a change from the 9th graders.
I now have five classes a day to plan and grade papers for:
1. Honors English 9A
2. Remedial English 9B
3. English 9B
4. English 9A
5. English 12B

This is forcing me to become more organized and I needed it. My students are a different story. I find them becoming more and more disorganized and disrespectful. Today a girl I normally joke with said to me, "Fuck you for thinking you can say I have to leave, fucking bitch."

That's cool.

I don't really know how much longer I can last in such a hostile environment.

The mood in this post is not one that I would want to shower on even my worst enemies. Sorry. But because I always attempt to resort to optimism to prevent the waves of cynicism from taking me under, the minute kids left my classroom I blasted the song belong and rocked out...

Hey Miss Mari, Thanks for the Immunizations

Since it's my first time ever traveling out of the country, everything I do is a marvel to me. It's new, fun, and scary... just like learning how to drive. Hopefully I won't get stuck on a bridge during a flash flood like I did during driver's training. I apologize if it's not a marvel to you, but try to think back to the first time you ever went anywhere that required so much prep work. It's a learning experience that I'll never get to repeat (thank god).

These are the immunizations that helpful Mother Mari at WMU's Sindecuse Health Center injected into me last Wednesday:

Yellow Fever

Meningitis 

Hepatitis A 

Tetanus

Measles, Mumps, and Rubella 

I got two in my right arm and three in my left arm:

If I could do it again... I wouldn't.

This is what's coming into my bod through a needle next week (or in the next few weeks... my poor arms are still recovering):
H1N1 (no matter how much I refuse to get flu shots because I've never had them, I've gotta get it together)
Polio

Many of these immunizations were ones that I should have gotten a few many years ago. Oops! I really do recommend Miss Mari at Sindecuse to anyone in the Kalamazoo area who has to get immunizations for travel. She took her time with me and was very comforting. She even lined up the band aids for me:

Very motherly, if you like hemming and hawing, which I LOVE

My personal favorite immunization isn't in shot form: It's the oral live Typhoid tablets that I had to carry home in a giant cooler. They are resting in our fridge next to the fat free mozzarella until I decide to take them:

Yum! Tastes like a third world disease! I kid, I kid.

Last, but not least, Miss Mari sent my on my merry way with some pills for the road:

1. In my right hand: A giant horse pill sized anti-biotic that will kill any bug normal anti-diarrheal can't kill. I guess it pretty much kills any bug in your body. Cool!
2. In my left hand: A crazy expensive malaria medicine. I'm glad I have insurance. I was going for the mid-priced anti-malaria medicine but when I told her I have mild anxiety I found out that there is a risk for night terrors and psychotic breaks which would be a very uncool experience on another continent. I first heard about memory loss and psychotic breaks from act 3 of a This American Life Episode that scared the shit out of me. That's what I get for listening to NPR. Thank goodness for the comfort of Miss Mari.

That's the most current trip update. I am now happily equipped with my International Certificate of Vaccination, which was the whole purpose of those immunizations in the first place:

Okay, can we leave now?