Sesame Street Mad Men

I do not kid on this one...



Why weren't they this clever circa 20 years ago??

Another Sesame memory:

When I was little I was afraid of our pool vacuum cleaner...

(you know, the contraption that rolls around the bottom and attaches to the side via a tube?)...

...so I called it OSCAR and shrieked whenever it came near.


I lived on the beach until I was 11, so never mind that before the pool, I had most likely been swimming with stingrays, sharks and other little Pacific Ocean critters...

Most likely with Al, my childhood partner in crime...

Murphy's HORRIBLE Law

Remember Alli?

Well, she still has Hodgkin's lymphoma (blood cancer)...

In fact, worse than they thought.


She's up for more rounds of Chemo (imagine her horror when she thought she was done) and a stem cell transplant ... from herself ("autologous").


If you do nothing else today, please send her some warm regards and wishes on her blog - HERE.

She will greatly appreciate it.

She needs our love.
Thank you.

Just about the cutest thing.

The last time math was fun was when my middle school algebra teacher did a "NEAR...FAR" Grover imitation (with hands flailing- he was hysterical) to better explain the concept of positive and negative numbers.

What's your favorite Sesame Street memory?

REAL 'Reality Shows'

I've made a new resolution that whenever I become infuriated that I haven't slept well, I'll put my frustrations in perspective with these kinds of stories.

Exhibit A: MUGABE IS DELUSIONAL. THE END.

Exhibit B: To think THIS kind of sentiment will only grow as WWII fades deeper into memory is so tragic I can't even conjure words. Yeah, I know if we're looking at numbers, Stalin and Pol Pot and others killed far more people, but SERIOUSLY?!

Exhibit C: As if we didn't expect or suspect this already...

I'd take vomiting anyday...

I was telling a friend recently that whenever I'm around someone who I'm potentially interested in, (which does not happen very often at all because I am extremely picky as well as 'really intimidating'), I am serially shy until the awkwardness phase turns into a comfortable one.

Probably stems from all my former self-conscious days. Which is annoying, because it only makes the situation more awkward when I cannot contribute. I think I've learned to subconsciously counteract this habit by being a semi-good question asker. But then inevitably the ball gets placed in my court and then it's all over.

Awesome.

But then my friend argued that being a word vomit-er with a potential interest is more dangerous, because then they have material they can use in their case "against" you.

But no cool guy wants a boring girl!!! I'm convinced being a word vomiter would be more attractive.

Or one of my friends confesses that her inner-most secrets are more often made known to airplane seatmates, not her friends. Whereas instead of talking miles a minute at miles-high altitudes, my interaction with plane strangers consists of head-nodding yes or no if I or they need to get up past me.


So what are you?

a word vomiter

or

serially shy?

I'm curious...please footnote your thoughts and stories



PS: I can't think of "word vomit" without thinking of Mean Girls (ah such a classic!)...

Protect Insurance Companies PSA

Haha!

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

Success.

Got sunburned this weekend.

(Albeit, barely).


At a body of water.

(Albeit, a pool.)


First Amendment law book did not make me cry.

(The foreign language-ness of it is getting easier.)


It's the little things, people...

Can you pay my automo-bills?

Arguably the best music video ever made:

Destiny's Child- Bills, Bills, Bills

Don't worry, I'm not some technical music video junkie who knows what she's talking about, but I do know that I am in many ways my mother's daughter, in that she wants to be a black woman: from their gorgeous ebony skin color to their no-nonsense "huumph" attitude.

So yeah, there are WAY too many good things about Bills, Bills, Bills:

The synchronized head stare that coincides with the beginning of the music.

The trash-tastic outfits.
The booty rolling.
The curves.
The hair.

The fact that it's set in a weave-tastic beauty salon.
Krystyna and Emily will remember...we were walking to a Cuban restaurant in Harlem summer '08 and passed a salon chock-FULL of beautiful black women getting their hair done for the weekend. It was one of the most amazing sights I've ever seen.
I wanted to keep staring at them...but you know...could not exactly do that...

The high-fiving and choreography using hair tools like combs and curlers as props to punctuate their messages.

"TRIFLIN'" (elongated out to three syllables: "Try-fa-lin")

"Can you pay my AUTOMO-BILLS?"

That it reminds me of my friend Liz's birthday party in 7th grade where we dressed up in afros and danced to it.

The really awful 90s 'lip-liner-darker-than-lipstick' look.

Their enviably full, glossy lips.

That the candidate they came up with to help them in hard times was a basket- "balla"

Basically the "we're worth it" attitude. Really, everyone could learn so much from this. LOVE it.

Where Kanye and healthcare converge

In New York City (of course, duh) subways.

Below are some new ads set to go up:

image via NY Times

And I guess some experts argue this subway marketing works- after all with the nutritional labeling and trans-fat ban, NYC is one of the "thinnest" cities in the US.

Adding my two cents to the healthcare debate (Partisan pigeonholers be forewarned, I think mine's pretty independent):
One of the most essential but hugely unspoken element of the healthcare debate is that of what Americans are eating. I don't need to regale us with all the statistics of how obese we are or how large our portions are or how much we spend on weight-loss products...it's all a mess and too much money goes towards something that is not progressing.
Maybe I am not one to talk because I am not obesity- or diabetes-inclined, nor do I work in or formally study the healthcare industry. But when you see numbers like $263 billion going toward funding the two combined, I don't think it's entirely fair in some way that I am paying into something that is, as it appears (pun intended), for the MOST part (not all- type I diabetes anyone?) entirely preventable.

Maybe I've hit a nerve, and if so, I apologize. But please, do yourself and all other Americans a favor. I don't need to tell you to get '5-a-Day' or to work out or to not drink milk and all of that ... but I guess I just did.

I really liked President Obama's speech actually ... (revoking cancer treatment halfway through IS extremely wrong) ... and we shall see if his promises pan out. Even flaming conservative libertarian Glenn Beck, who TIME accuses as a fear-marketing "Mad Man" said
"I don't know personally a single Democrat who is a dope-smoking hippie that wants to turn us into Soviet Russia."

But politics is something in which I cease to find much satisfaction, as the more I read about it, the more confused I find myself. Maybe you could argue that anything worthwhile is, in it's essence, confusing at the core. But I can't seem to catch a break from this little thing called the US political economic system.
And coming from a politically apathetic family (read: Beltway Burnouts turned Carefree Californians) doesn't help.


But I think all of us can agree that in light of the pathetic and utterly rude Kanye antics of last Sunday's VMAs...

THE jackass comment is totally justified...

and maybe you totally disagree with me above on healthcare, but below here, can see why I deemed this the best subway ad of summer 2008:



T. Swizzle: you're welcome.

NYC: You can't come soon enough.

Happy weekend.

Reflections on my 21st bygone year

(Or "Musings on becoming legal")

On paper, it was maybe one of the worst years to date (eh, no that would be high school). I probably logged more hours in doctors offices and pharmacies in the first half than time spent out with friends. But in terms of learning, I couldn't have asked for more. Really. Sooo cliche: sue me.

Here's a little recap:

Experienced the highest recurring form of physical pain to date, popping ibuprofen and narcotics like candy, including racing up and down I-15 (Provo-SLC) with ice packs pressed to my freezer burnt face for injections and various therapies. A low point was popping some Percosset with intentions to snuggle the pain off in bed, then having my professor call to say I needed to get up to campus in the next half hour to have him sign an "Incomplete" form and submit it to the registrar's office.
I'm better, for the most part.

Learned that driving under the influence is just...not good.


-Oversaw Daily Universe packages for 2008 election coverage.

Learned Tina Fey is a goddess of satire.


-Went to Wyoming for Thanksgiving.

Learned that wide open spaces may in fact be really great...for the rush of galloping a horse.



- Attended a Buddhist wedding of my lovely hippie cousin and her dear Brazilian hubby in Santa Cruz...

(Isn't that the coolest picture of a bride?!)

and also a traditional Mormon wedding reception for another cousin in Orange County.



Two of my four best friends from Spain study abroad also got married.

Learned that love lives.

(Speaking of: men with psychotic wanderlust, intellectual arrogance, and/or cruel casanova complexes need not inquire within. -The Management)


-Spent the summer at the lake, (no malls, gyms, movie theaters or chain restaurants to be found within an hour radius)...ate lots of ice cream and enjoyed myself and my family (and Rayflyer).

(an awkward family photo (mom's hand on Katherine's stomach?) but it's all of us, nonetheless...)

Waterskiied, sky-skiied, and taught myself how to paddleboard.


Took an over two hour Hobie Cat excursion in gnarly waves and wind with my dad (including incident of capsize).
Relaxed. Read a lot of books and blogs. Wrote.

Learned that I can be happy outside of cities. At least in this interim period...


-Met Anderson Cooper, who inspired me to do international foreign correspondence work.

Went to Prague with three of my best friends, only to learn that I don't want to be a foreign correspondent: something about needing to take a crash surgical course in the event that you have to perform surgery on yourself was the kicker.


-Accepted that being a high-functioning individual also requires a high-vigilance and maintenance of well-being. Reconciled that I'm not done reconciling some things, but I'm definitely more myself than I've ever been. And really, I haven't been happier, more sure, determined, or more carefree.

Learned that irony is comical.


-Planned my next adventure ... to Neverland ...
where I will be thrown into "outdoors-y-ness" for the first time. We shall see if 15+ summers in the New England forestry have given me sufficient bug-squashing confidence.
(Last hurrah before the big-city life of my 4-year-old dreams! eee!)


OH, and I went auburn a couple days ago (the closest I will probably ever come to my redhead sisters)




It's true that really don't understand the lessons learned from trials and successes until you reflect upon them.
Thank you, readers, for indulging me.

22? Bring it.

Remembering

I don't have a particularly memorable 'where were you on 9/11' story (as if it matters)- except for the fact that my high school teachers did not let us watch footage (it was onward with their lesson plans) ... so I confirmed the nightmarish rumors back at home circa 3pm PST.

But what is memorable is the unity and hearkening back to values our country experienced. My favorite gospel principle is that of remembering who I am: a child of God. Puts everything in perspective.
It's why I go to church, why I pray, why I study the valuable lessons found in ancient scripture: to remember where I came from and where I'm going.

Kind of like this sister missionary for my church who serves in Chinatown NYC.
(Click on link for slideshow)

via long story short

God Nurse America

Regarding this...

Freedom of speech is really rad.

Other countries (cough Iran cough):
why would you want to miss out on all this sweetness? ;)

De-mystifying milk

My dad emailed me the following excerpt a while ago from a health for volleyball players Web site
(Remember how I'm the shortest one in my family and that my two younger sisters are 6'2" volleyball phenoms?).

Except in Europe, where the food standards are where they should be (sheesh), I can't remember when I last had a glass of milk.

I went vegan for a solid 2 weeks last year, and learned some cool things along the way. i.e. that the only tribe in Africa that drinks milk is the only tribe with cases of osteoporosis (which makes sense if you read further below).

But after reading rumors here and there, beginning from when I read Fast Food Nation in high school, about its non-nutritional value reversal, I was sold on the following.

(Basically, milk is freaky genetically modified cow udder puss. sick.)

Today, what we call "milk" is truly a poison and a far cry from the nutritious food that it once was. Milk consumption is now being blamed for everything from cancer to diabetes.

There was a time when milk came from healthy, happy and well-fed cows...this is no longer the case.

Today, most of the milk we consume comes from what Sally Fallon, founder of the Real Milk Movement, calls "freaks of nature".

Through strange breeding practices, which produce cows that have unusually large pituitary glands, and through the use of FDA approved genetically engineered growth hormones for cows... these Freak cows produce 3 to 4 times the milk of a normal cow.

Fantastic, we now have cows that are so stressed by the amount of milk that they are producing that not only does the milk contain significantly lower nutrition, but also it is higher in puss! Yea,
I said puss.

Also, from the poor quality of grains these cows are fed (cows should be eating grass anyway), the milk that you are pouring on your cereal has been shown to cause liver problems, tumors, sterility, and mastitis in the cows that produce it..."Got Milk?"

Today, all processed milk is pasteurized for the sole purpose of increasing shelf life.

Pasteurization is a process by which milk is heated to such a high degree that it destroys all the bacteria in the milk. Milk is a living organism that contains live cultures (bacteria) that are essential to the immunity of the milk and to the milk drinker.

When milk is pasteurized, all the live-cultures and enzymes are destroyed, rendering the milk a dead-food.

Once this immune enhancing bacteria is destroyed, the milk is now susceptible to invasion by unhealthy bacteria.

All your life you have probably believed milk is good for you, helping you build strong bones and muscles. In it's pure form, milk can be good. But even then, that's nothing absolute.

Arnold Schwarzenegger was right on the money when he said, "Milk is for babies". No other living creature consumes milk after infancy, so why should we?

The fact is that milk does NOT help calcium absorption like many experts claim it does. In fact, milk hinders calcium absorption.

The lactose and pasteurization process that milk undergoes often makes calcium in milk not able to be absorbed by the human body.

Also, the cows that major milk products come from are often disease-ridden animals, pumped full of chemicals.

The legal limit for white cell allowance in milk is ridiculously high. So why care about white cell count?

If you ever have a pimple and squeeze it, and that beige colored puss sprays out, just think about the laws that allow milk to be anywhere up to 20% puss-content.

There are numerous studies that show milk contributes to heart disease and cancer.

Milk exhibits an "inflammatory" response, more commonly accepted as the key indicator for heart disease.

Milk hinders the digestive tract, slowing the efficiency of recovery from workouts.

So what should you do?

If you are going to drink milk, your best choice is to find an organic farmer that sells raw milk. If you can't get your hands on raw milk, make sure you're using certified organic milk from your super market.

ALSO, I LOVE this alternative food labeling where it is shown how far the food has traveled. Brilliant.

images from swiss miss

On jerking myself around

"The most important reviews are the ones you give yourself."
- Carrie Bradshaw, after her first NY Times review
Season 5, 'Critical Condition'


Getting to know one's self is a lifelong quest, yes.

But this much I am sure: a healthy relationship is one where your own self, however developed or undeveloped it may be, is not surrendered or hijacked parasitically, but rather allowed to develop and flourish both healthily and independently of the other. Of course, it is always nice to see eye-to-eye on things, and certainly, a relationship is one that grows together in some, if not, many aspects.
But ultimately, the "oneness" starts at one's self.


Arguably my best and simplest revelation this summer:

I am the biggest jerk to...myself.


If we all treated ourselves with due self-respect, we'd see healthier relationships.
I'm not too proud to say that starts with me.

Nice work, guys

Way to go, Cougs.

University Avenue blew up moments after the game was over, and didn't stop for at least 2 hours.

Awesome.

Shout out to Denmark

I know I know I'm not supposed to be blogging. It's one of the things I thought about in my hour spent in the fetal position.

Anyway,

So regardless of the fact I'm practically 20th generation American (one on the Mayflower even), half my ancestry is Danish.

I mean, how did you think one could be called "shorty/runt/petite" by family at 5-feet-11 & 3/4 inches?

(Precise fractionated height due to being measured at a morning doctor's appointment a couple days ago. Maybe I'm really 6' at high-noon? What is 1/4 inch anyway: the flattest of flats put me at 6')

So needless to say I've been obsessed with all the talented Miss Brittany has done in Copenhagen...like this post and her blog in general. ("Brilliant")

And watch for the Danish shout out in this hilarious new ad campaign.

I believe in Denmark...after all, it's why I'm standing here today: all 5' 11 & 3/4 inches.

The button

First day of school, 30 mins before class starts, a button pops off my new pants, derailing my outfit of a month-long vision.

I'm on my hands and knees trying to find it, to no avail...

Severely thrown off, I am late to my first class by probably 30 seconds, but nonetheless welcomed to scores of eyes as I traverse in front of all of them in the middle of the professor's introductions, climbing over several people to get a seat.
NICE.

Later, I crack open my 'law school primer' (as I'm calling it) class book and want to cry. So I lay on my bed in the fetal position and take deep breaths...for about an hour, trying to think happy thoughts ("think of the happiest things" as Peter Pan would say).
Eyes assume that on-the-brink-of-a-meltdown sting-y feeling for probably 48 hours, with accompanying zombie-like exhaustion.

New apartment's air conditioning is broken, so even Utah feels like a rainforest: sleeping with no clothes on, taking cold showers...with each heated exhale, the point is further proven that there should NOT be school when it is this hot out.

Basically, I'm still mourning summer's end and getting my trash full on drop-kicked by school.

BUT THINGS ARE LOOKING UP:

Two people (both male, one professor in the middle of a lecture) said my hair looked great (and you know I NEVER 'do' my hair),

Three of my good friends (Murfie, Sponge and Coppins) are in my pseudo-law school class,

AND

my jaw/neck/head BARELY HURT. For probably the first time in at least a year. Miracles happen.


So you know, there are always two sides to every button.
(Even if said button is still MIA.)