Saturday, June 22, 2013

A Sasquatch's Guide to Summertime Stinkyfeet

If you're a Sasquatch like me, then you probably feel the same conflicting emotions I do at the return of warm weather: jubilation for sunshine and outdoor activities, dread for the stinky-ass feet and countless episodes of foot-shame. 

Over the years I've learned a few tricks...

1. Ventilation! No, not rolling down the car windows or leaving your shoes outside. SANDALS. If you are just a junior Sasquatch, this might solve most of your issues straight off the bat. But if you're full-on abominable read on...

2. Not just any sandals will do. Suede, microfiber, and really fabric in general is not your friend. You need sandals that you can wear in & out of water. Choose whatever brand makes you happy so long as the shoes have an impermeable man-made footbed. 

Why? They are SO much easier to keep clean!! I'm a daily sandal wearer in summer and my Birkenstock years were my stinkiest (the unshaven pits weren't helpingI'm sure ). The combination of suede and cork were a double whammy since neither hold up to water.  The sandals I describe, however, only need to be washed once or twice a week, and if you keep them clean your feet will be almost stink-free. 

There are all kinds of sandal soaps out there but FORGET 'em--they're expensive, have awkward-to-use bottles, and don't even work. I've heard of people using bleach water solutions, but I'd pass on that since it'll damage the shoes and it won't remove grime. The shoe guy at REI uses laundry detergent and puts his sandals in the machine on delicate, but he must not be as much of a Sasquatch as he looks because this method didn't work for me at all. 

Here are 2 things that will actually clean the grit & kill the microbial Bigfoot shiz off your shoes...
A) Dawn dish soap. If it's good enough to wash crude oil off of birds, it's good enough for me. Just use a soft-bristle dish washing brush to scrub up your sandals. This cleans the whole kit-n-caboodle nice and gently, but requires a fair amount of dry-out time. 

B) Clorox anti-bacterial cleaning wipes work amazingly well if you're in a pinch, traveling, or just lazy like me. You win on having nil for dry-time, but it won't clean the straps. 

3. Should you be compelled to wear regular shoes without socks though you be a stink-foot, then only buy shoes with removable insoles. I've found a lot of shoes have foam rubber insoles glued to the bottom of the shoe and are easy enough to pluck out without wrecking anything. You will want to do this so you can pull them out and wash them! The best ones are found in running shoes so I keep the inserts even after the shoes wear out. Wash these in the laundry in HOT after each time you wear them - just like you would your underwear! Which is why I recommend keeping spare pairs from old sneakers. 

I hope this moment of TMI helps prevent some other poor Sasquatches out there from feeling the humiliation that comes with smelly feet! Go forth and walk with confidence!!

~Cristini P, Sasquatch











Friday, June 21, 2013

Digital Dating Games

A hilarious description of modern dating!


LMAO! I'm sure glad I didn't have to date in the era of texting/Facebook. "In my day" (said in granny voice) we had to lie to each others' faces, pretend to be inebriated, &/or slip out the back door. We also screened our calls, played phone tag, or just stood each other up! Those were the good old days when we couldn't send each other pictures of our private parts because if you brought the film to the photomat to develop, it'd get confiscated. We had to actually take our pants off in front of someone with the lights on!

Thursday, June 20, 2013

It's HOT

Man, am I ever missing central air!!! It's been years since I lived in a brownstone with no AC. I remember I used to lay on the bed in front of the fan with a spray bottle full of water set to mist, and I'd give myself repeated cold spritzes. The downside was the sheets being all damp and warm and clingy - blech!

But NOW I'm older and wiser! I have been putting frozen cooler bricks into socks & sticking those in the bed to cool off. It works pretty good, actually! I might even be able to sleep ;^]

Tuesday, May 07, 2013

Occupation: Technical Writer!

Can I get a "FUCK YEAH!"? (If only because I default to vulgarity when I am totally psyched. Who am I kidding? Vulgarity IS my default.)

So how did that happen, you ask? Well, the planets aligned in the right house so I cast a job-getting spell during a solar flare.... Not. Though it does feel a bit magical that the job I visualized for myself opened up and I got it!

In case you're wondering, my formula for success is as follows...

I picture my future self: What am I doing? Where am I living? What am I wearing? What is my lifestyle? What kind of work environment am I in? How long is my hair?

Once I have a picture in my mind, I "put it out into the universe." I blog about it, I tell my friends, I seek out people who have what I want and ask them loads of questions. I offer to work for free to try stuff out: volunteering, internships, projects for friends or family. I research resumes of people who do that work & see if it sounds like stuff I want to do or can do. 

After a couple practice runs, I apply for jobs that sound related and see what kind of hits I get. If by that time I only get emails that say, "Be your own boss!", "Work from home!", or anything from the military, I know I'm doing something wrong & I start the process over. 

Not glamorous, not supernatural, but never fails to keep me on track!



Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Spring has been cancelled.

This freakishly long winter combined with the solar flares is making me feel like there's a little man living in a little room in my little brain and he has been SET ON FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! AAAARRRRGGGHHHHH! And no, I do not feel better now.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Barbie Zombie Makeover II





PINTEREST IS DIY CRACK

If you have any crafting tendencies, consider yourself warned!

My obsession is nearing a fever pitch. I have been completely unable to resist the call of this website and I find myself browsing through it multiple times a day. And once I start I can't stop! Just ONE MORE PIC. My bleary eyes are dry and bloodshot. My pulse is sluggish. Yet the neurons in my brain are on fire! I look at these pictures and suddenly I just KNOW how to do the thing that's depicted. My mind is swelling to capacity with ideas for decorating and organizing! I'm plotting and scheming how to score free materials: I need a used truck tire, an old dresser, a hunk of driftwood, fancy shower curtain hooks, towel bars, window boxes, a heat gun, ten pounds of crayons, an old ladder, decorative drawer pulls, a window shutter, PVC pipe, fruit crates, a panel door, and pallets - LOTS OF PALLETS!!!!!

The most shameful part of it all is that I have been unable to channel any of this energy into actually completing a project. I am living vicariously through strangers who make cool shit while my shit sits around in dull, disorganized piles. Staring at me. Accusing me. Blaming me. "We look like this because of YOU." "You'll never have nice things." "Look at the mess you've made of your life. And the dishes." "That's right, bring home MORE STUFF. We dare you. What's that you say? There's nowhere to put it? That's what we thought."

Pleeeeeeaaaaase, God, let me find a truck tire and I SWEAR I will make it into the most fantastic ottoman you have ever seen! If I only had those gorgeous door pulls and a piece of romantically distressed wood I would almost certainly hang up all the necklaces I never wear! I'm on the verge of making a deal with the devil named Discover Card even though I know I will regret it immediately and for the rest of the month.

Admitting I need help would be the first step to recovery if I thought this was becoming a problem, but I have it under control. Seriously, I'm fine. It's not like I'm going to become that smelly nest-headed lady over there with all the plastic Michael's Crafts bags... OMG that's a mirror...

Saturday, March 30, 2013

A letter to the make-up girl on you tube who posted the rant about society discriminating against people who get piercings & tattoos

People who fit the status quo will never understand why someone would want to stand out from others in an unconventional way. The status quo exists because of human beings' base desire for hegemony, consistency, safety, security, predictability. When they see us, they're not offended by anything we did or said, but because we have disrupted their sense of what is right and safe in the world.

A modified person is on the margins, is unknown, and presumed to be "bad". Now take this person and place them in an everyday context, and suddenly every person they interact with is forced to confront or change what they believe to be true about the world or themselves. Say the modified person is you and you work in an office that receives clients. When the clients see you, the first thing that happens is that they are jolted into the present moment and they are sizing up whether they are in danger because pink hair and tattoos belong on wild, untrustworthy people. Yet, you are pleasant and professional. They start to warm up to you. Then they have to figure out whether their assumptions about pink hair and tattoos are true... And what comes next is that they fear losing credibility with their peers for accepting and trusting you. For example, your boss has accepted you, but is still concerned that you might "offend" someone by how you present yourself.

Conventional people have found security and identity in fitting in and competing for attention within the acceptable parameters set by conservative, white, educated, financially privileged men. These parameters dictate not just standards of beauty, but also gender expressions, competitiveness, visibility, and opportunity. When you're modified you are challenging ALL of those things AT ONE TIME. Sensory overload can cause people to switch off and refuse to acknowledge your presence, let alone your level of professionalism, your drive, your accomplishments, or your talents.

There are certain body modifications, as you mentioned, that have become acceptable among conventional people. But notice, these modifications are the type that conform to accepted standards of beauty. This is important because it's not the modification of the body that is unacceptable, it's whether or not the result facilitates your fitting in. Fashionable hair styles, breast augmentations, false eyelashes, acrylic nails, and Botox make women more appealing to the status quo man. They are rewarded for this with more attention from more successful men with more material wealth. They are rewarded with jobs because they can mold themselves into anyone's ideal candidate. These modifications reduce the person's risk of rejection.

There are so many rewards that people who benefit from fitting in ignore the limitations. There are limits set on how you can express your sexuality, what body type you have to obtain or maintain, what kind of movies or music you listen to, what to read, how to vote, what your opinion is, and ultimately your whole belief system. These are people who are constantly seeking cues from others that they are doing what they are supposed to and fulfilling the expectations of membership to their group.

You talk of needing to express yourself, and at some level everyone has this need. But the way you express yourself is outside the boundaries of what "normal" people have found safety in. Though it feels like people are shutting you out, it's more likely you already existed completely outside their paradigm. You're probably a misfit.

If that's true, you probably have been a misfit your whole life, and have not benefitted much from the rewards of the status quo. People deal with being a misfit in a variety of ways. Many obsessively dedicate their lives to fitting in. Some hide in a shell and come off as awkward. A few people have embraced it and given up pursuing what most of society values.

Like you, I find this approach to life both liberating and frustrating. Liberating because I no longer feel compelled to compete in our culture's wet t-shirt contest of a life. Liberating because I have access to my creative mind and my soul; I can express myself in an astounding variety of ways, even if I can't always be understood. That brings me to the frustrating part. I am frustrated that so many people are living two-dimensional lives and punishing themselves for not being like "normal" people. It's frustrating that people accuse me of attention-seeking while showering adoration on some undeserving twit with dyed-blonde hair and plastic tits. Being judged is frustrating as hell, but the benefits to being a misfit far outweigh the consequences.

Having stood out like a sore thumb through no fault of my own for most of my life, I got comfortable being on the margin. From this vantage point I figured there's no sense in torturing myself to fit in. If I'm an oddball no matter what, I may as well just express myself however I feel like it. I'm comfortable in my own pierced and tattooed skin regardless of whether someone near me isn't. I'm free to try new things without fear of rejection, without worrying that I might lose social status. I don't have to compromise my opinions to get along.

Unless we're talking about work... Like you I struggle with how much I can be myself at work. I chose to "tone it down" to get this job, yet no matter what I do I can't "pass" for normal. I have an inner cabin fever at work because I am surrounded by beige cubicles inhabited by uncreative, repressed, linear-thinking, tie-wearing dullards who are all scrambling through the same maze looking for cheese that's not there. I can't help but push buttons and ask the questions people don't want to think about.

I am glad to hear you are sticking to your guns so fiercely - it is inspiring! But even if you gave in and took out all your piercings, covered your tats, dyed your hair a natural color, you're still the same person. You'll always find ways to express yourself, you'll always be challenging the assumptions of others, you'll always be a misfit.

It's tough to be in a position where you are inadvertently challenging people every day, but take heart. Keep on being the truest version of yourself - you're a teacher. In each person you interact with, you are planting a little misfit seed that could potentially take root and even sprout into understanding. If you're lucky, maybe one person's seed will flower and they'll blossom into the fully realized person they're meant to be, and from them more seeds will be planted.



Wednesday, January 30, 2013

My Fave Critter

Yes, he sleeps with a pillow. And no, it's not a fluke.

Sister Marsupial

I had a dream my sister Rachel was pregnant again, except this time she was like a marsupial and could take the baby out of her tummy for us to peek at.

Why Demonizing Cats is Going to Give You Cancer

House cats are getting a lot of bad press just lately: they are being slandered as "friendly neighborhood serial killers", they are being cited for the murdering of billions of birds and mammals each year, they are even scapegoats for the extinctions of entire species. I'm calling bullshit.

I remember 20-30 years ago the public conversation around protecting endangered species was focused heavily on predatory animals and birds because we depend on their ecological contribution to pest control. What changed? Yes, some populations of wolves, eagles, foxes, owls, and wild cats have recovered, but the evidence of their limited growth is all around you; the roadsides and highways are simply LITTERED with deer, geese, raccoons, turkeys, possum, turkeys, skunks, raccoons, deer...

Now just think about what will happen if we eradicate cats... No, go ahead, I'll wait... That's right, BILLIONS more rats, mice, pigeons, squirrels, rabbits! And that's just in the first year - they'll be exploding exponentially thereafter.

If an intellectual midget such as myself can reach this conclusion, these cat haters must have flea circuses between their ears. Humans have been able to pick up some of the slack left by emaciated populations of predators by donning blaze orange and shooting the shit out of dinner-sized critters. Who picks up the disease-riddled slack left by cats then? Humans who don hazmat gloves and respirators while fumigating homes with neurotoxins.

In my opinion, the cat eradication idea defies logic: we would expose ourselves to pestilence, disease, and chemical warfare to save endangered birds who will just die off anyway from exposure to chemical run-off into the water system and being outcompeted for food by billions of rodents. Why not start at the root cause of their endangerment which is human encroachment into wild areas for resource extraction, agriculture, and sprawl?

But, seeing as how people will be people (reactionary, short-sighted, obstinate), I guess I will be investing all my cash in chemical companies so I can afford a good oncologist.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Annoying Shit My Husband Does

He asks me stupid questions. For example, I'll get up in the morning, take a pee, brush my teeth and come back out 5 minutes later. My husband will look over at me with my snarled oily hair in a lopsided ponytail with a halo of static electric frizz and ask if I just took a shower.

He puts his hat, wallet, keys, and phone in different places. These items get set down in DIFFERENT different places each day, and each day he will ask me where at least one of these items is. Yesterday he woke me up at 5:30 in the morning swearing up a storm because he couldn't find his wallet and wanted my help. He ended up being 45 minutes late for work, but he eventually found it... in a kitchen cupboard. Shit.You.Not. 

He asks me questions but pays no attention to my answers. He asks me questions, doesn't listen to the answers, and then has to repeat those questions. He asks me questions, doesn't listen to the answers, asks the same questions again and still misses the answers, and when he asks the third or fourth time, he doesn't understand why I'm getting bent out of shape and refusing to answer him.  To add insult to injury, he refuses to acknowledge that he doesn't listen to me. 

Friday, December 14, 2012

Life's a bitch

The Newtown, CT shooting stuff is getting to me. Instead of going down the path of "Life's a bitch and then you die; fuck the world, let's get high", I'm going instead to "Life's a bitch and then you die; fuck the world, let's watch cat videos on YouTube." Meantime, the hubby is on the beer train to Sentimental Town.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Some mean shit I wrote

So I was perusing the Bookface, as I am wont to do, and one of my friends liked or commented on a photo of a plus-sized model, Tara Lynn something, so I felt obliged to check it out. This was not the best idea. I guess I was expecting it to be some sort of chick-friendly, empowering type of page... but no, it was one of those pages that are just full of random crap that thousands of people follow for reasons mystifying to me. Instead of people saying awesome things about different ways to be beautiful people were slinging snide shit from top to bottom. It made me so mad I felt like reaming someone out. So I let them have it:

"I'll admit I'm surprised - though I know I shouldn't be - that the vast majority of you adult men and women are unable to appreciate beauty in any other form than what is being marketed to you as a consumer. Most of the comments on this thread have left me heartsick with disgust at your callous rhetoric. My only comfort is knowing that whatever terrible things you have decided are true of this figure, you have also decided are true of yourself; you have given yourself no room to self-actualize because you have committed yourself to an impossible standard of beauty. Your body and soul will never be united, you will be forever conflicted. I, however, am able to appreciate a diverse spectrum of beauty, and I am able to see those facets of beauty reflected in myself. I know this blurb will not reach through the negative, jangling, cacophony that fills your thoughtless minds, but I feel better having expressed my disdain for your vapid discourse."



Saturday, December 08, 2012

Recent strange dreams

Dream 1:
Utterly terrifying dream of dying. I was a passenger in a little red hatchback and my friend's mom was the driver. There was a giant sink hole that had appeared in my neighborhood and we had just narrowly missed driving into it due to the road being washed out, but as we rounded another curve she didn't have with enough time to react and we went over the edge of the 30-or-so story pit. Instead of waking up, I felt the freefall and watched the ground rushing up at me. I squeezed my eyes shut and said "I don't want to know!" (what it's like to die). In an instant I felt weightless and rising. It was quiet. Then I heard my own heavy breathing and realized I'd woken up. I had a really hard time going back to sleep.

Dream 2:
I was eating a "Cyborg Burger: nutrition and nanotechnology in one". Did a fast food joint figure out how to produce food with no nutrition that makes the body believe it's being nourished? Or was it made of products we normally can't digest so the little nanos do it? Scary I idea.


Sunday, December 02, 2012

What do I want?!

I just have to put this out into the Universe: I want a career doing something I love. That's not to say that I know what I want to do. There's lots of things I love. I love blogging, traveling, crafting, painting, sleeping... Out of all those things I'm really only good at sleeping.

The reason I want to put this notion out into the ether is that I am I dissatisfied with my current career path. Which is not to say that I'm ungrateful - I am happy to be employed in this economy. But it's like a pair of golden handcuffs; I am finally making a living wage, but I'm not anywhere near gainful employment. I feel undervalued and I'm not making enough to pay my minimum student loan amount.

I have learned a lot about leadership & that is truly inspiring, but the environment is sterile. I don't like anyone I work with and I cringe at their FB pics & statuses. I find myself mentally correcting their grammar all day. I feel like I am becoming a jaded asshole.

Yet, no matter how much I dread showing up there each day, it's one of the best jobs I've ever had. I feel like I don't deserve anything else - shit, I feel like I don't even deserve THIS.

I am hoping to wake up some day soon with balls big enough to go out & get what I need, want, deserve, and love!! So, Universe, do your stuff but please don't make it hurt.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Last night I dreamed I was trying to figure out how to log into my new vagina

Interface much?
Sometimes I feel like my real life is being replaced piece by piece with virtual interface. Instead of calling people I communicate via text or FB. I can't afford to travel so I tour places across the globe with Google maps street view. I don't write in a diary, I blog. I have no space at home to create anything big so I create digital images in PhotoShop, Illustrator, MS Paint. I read the news online, and books on an e-reader like everyone else.

Here are some things I still do in the real world. I have a living dog who needs actual food, water, exercise, and attention to survive. I knit little cup cozies. I go to work. The yard & garden I occasionally tend to grows completely out of control due to the fact that none of my neighbors come by and take care of it for me when they're bored in the middle of the night.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Keeping a diary supports personal development

I have been keeping journals since the age of 12, on & off. Mostly on. Not always regularly, but in pretty consistent spurts. Because I've been doing it do long I can't say for certain whether it has ENCOURAGED my personal development, but it has definitely supported it.

Over all the years and phases I've gone through I've recorded almost everything about myself - for good or ill. Mostly I've recorded ill. But the gift I've gotten from all the bitching, complaining, bemoaning, grieving, and occasional celebrating is PERSPECTIVE. I can't necessarily pick out exact moments of growth but I can see over time the progress to becoming the person I am at this moment. And a moment from now I'll be ever so slightly different.

Personal development is a recurring theme in my life at the moment. Specifically, "what is my purpose in life?" I have no idea, and I'm truly bothered that I have no idea. I frequently feel like a directionless slob. I can find fulfillment in my job if I'm focused & grateful and cognizant of the fact that it does line up with my values concerning security & safety. My boss & peers are supportive & collaborative. But mostly I'm miserable and constantly feel shame that I resent having to work a corporate day job. What makes me so damn special that I should be entitled to anything more?

What I really crave is creatively fulfilling work. But I also yearn for steady, gainful compensation. I fantasize about having both but I have absolutely NO idea what I would do or how to make it materialize.

I decided after hearing the tag line I used as the title and subject of this post that I'll jump back into keeping a diary like I used to. I'll vent and purge and repeat myself over & over until I get so sick of myself I'll start moving in a different direction.

I have a whole series of self-imposed barriers that are holding me back and making me miserable. Lately the biggest obstacle has been periods of depression. Not like sadness & self pity, but like exhaustion and feeling completely overwhelmed and unable to get off the couch. Also I noticed in the last year that I have a terrible attention span and inability to focus and get things done. I could blame it on the passing of my father in law 6 weeks ago, or my mother in law 11 months before that, or my grandma's passing 14 months before that... While grieving is a valid reasons to be down, I tend to be down whether people are passing or not. It's a pretty established pattern. One that I'd like to break without having to medicate myself into submission.

So that's the merry go round in action. I got it slowed down just enough to look around at the world going by & waiting for the right moment to hop off.