Jugs

Another untapped market opportunity.

Why Designers Refuse To Make Bigger Bras.

But how much of a "risk" is it to make and advertise a product you know many women are clamoring for, unless you know your company is only capable of making cheap, flimsy bras that would never support larger breasts? Is designing a bra that can do some heavy lifting really so complex that it's more profitable to add a bow and some lace to last season's 34Bs and shun millions of potential customers?

Note to designers: If you build it, I will come.

Internets Crush

I put this up on Facebook too because it's totally awesome and I hope it gets a lot of link love.

You Can't Bully Me Out of My Skinny Jeans.

LOVE.

It amazes me that there is a group on Facebook dedicated to being dick faces, but then again, there was that "No Chubbies" guy in Denver a while back too. So really, I should never be amazed by just how dickish people can be.

The word of the day is, apparently, dick.

Hastily Written Late Night Reasons to Love Cambridge

1. We were spared during the Aquapocalypse.

2. Beautiful weather runs along the Charles. I've logged twenty miles since Friday. I am that awesome.

3. The Paper Raincoat at Club Passim.

Clothes Horse

My first batch of outfits is up. I am slightly weirded out, yet fascinated, by the number of views on the pictures. Are people really that interested in clothes? Or is it a fetish/stalker thing? People find this blog by googling "swinging testicles" so I should not be surprised by anything on the Internets.

In other clothes news, I like this blog. I read a lot of fashion blogs, but given my day job, it's not like I can really wear a lot of the super stylin' hip stuff people are blogging about. Never mind that I'm neither stylin' nor hip. The stuff at Corporette combines cool clothes with things you can wear to a white dude office.

They Said It Better and More Lists of Shit I Am Doing

1. The Fairy Tale of Weight Loss -- I read these ladies' blogs. Very cool.

2. Are you listening to my friend Amy's podcast? You should be.

3. I took this workshop today. You know me. You know how I react to mandatory fun at work. I was approaching this and the upside down 'A' with the same enthusiasm as I might approach dental work or a trip to the ob/gyn. As usual, I am a dick. It was great and I did more writing exercises today at work than I have on my last two months of "writing" Fridays.

4. I am going to the Simmons Women's Leadership Conference tomorrow. I am not going to harass Tina Brown.

5. Immigration is a feminist issue. Much better articulated than my 'Fuck you, Arizona' sentiments.

6. Cape Wind Pros and Cons. The cons seem very much of the 'not in my backyard' variety. Very 'we, the rich white liberals of New England very much support green energy as long as you put the turbines someplace else, preferably where poor people live, because they don't have sailing or views of the ocean or anything visually pleasing like that.'

7. Big tits are inappropriate for television, but only if they are on fat chicks. There was a big brouhaha over the censoring of Lane Bryant's lingerie ads. Check it out yourself. Any difference between this and a Victoria's Secret ad? I don't get it. The model's reported measurements are 36-34-47 and a US Size 12. This is around my size, so I for one, am thrilled to see real jugs on a regular-sized person in an underwear ad that doesn't feature granny panties and lots of beige. BEWARE THE JUGS.



8. My brother likes today, Poem in Your Pocket Day. I pick
the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls by E.E. Cummings for my adopted town. Also, I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone. Because a little Rilke never hurt anyone.

Anniversary #2

April 26, 2008



April 2009



April 2010



Good run, so far.

Reading, Watching, Other Stuff

1. Waiter Rant -- I didn't really read this one. I listened to it in the car, and it lent itself well to that medium, meaning I probably would have been bored if I read the actual book. It starts off slow, but got better, and for a brief moment in time made me appreciate my boring office job. Sometimes I experience weird nostalgia for the crappy jobs I had in high school and college, because, hey, at least you could punch out at the end of the day. But then I remember the bag full of dicks you end up sucking in food service and get over it. I'm curious about this dude's blog now, as usual, about two years after it was cool to care.

2. No One Belongs Here More Than You: Stories by Miranda July -- I confess to wanting to read this book because of its shiny yellow cover. And I liked the weirdness that was Me and You and Everyone We Know. This was on the clearance rack at Borders so I picked it up to have something to read in the Pumping Room, other than Parents magazine from 3 years ago. Verdict is still out. It was fascinating, and I had some definite favorites, but I guess my sieve-like brain craves more linear stories right now. I'd like to have a drink or play Jenga with Miranda July. She's a fucked up little oddball.

3. The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism -- Because we needed another reason to hate rich, whitey businessmen. It took me two months to read this, and I feel like I missed some of the stats because it was just so dense. The main premise is that politicians use the shock of natural and other disasters to push through unpopular economic policies while the general population is disoriented and reeling from the disaster's impact. It takes on post-Katrina New Orleans, post-911 USA, the collapse of the Soviet Union, among others, and talks about Milton Friedman's legacy of shit. You also get a whole host of new reasons to hate Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld, if you needed that. What I liked is that Naomi Klein is a journalist, so this reads like a *really long* magazine article without the usual boring economic jargon. What I didn't like is that it's very biased, and I think there are probably examples of leftists participating in the same sort of shenanigans.

4. Away From Her -- I actually haven't finished watching this yet, because it's sort of hard to psyche yourself up for an Alzheimer's flick. Sort of like saying, "Hey guys, let's have a party -- I've got Schindler's List and Hotel Rwanda. Woot!" I've been watching it in dribs and drabs, and it's beautiful and honest and depressing as hell. And much realer than that shit in The Notebook. Sarah Polley of Go (one of my favorites) and The Sweet Hereafter (another not-for-a-party movie) and a bunch of other great movies directed it. My grandmother had Alzheimer's disease. It was horrible to watch, and the scenes in the nursing home (especially one where the character, Grant, says that his wife would never wear a sweater that "tacky") just chilled me. Brilliant acting, but don't watch it alone.

5. Party Down -- For when I'm not watching tearjerkers. I just discovered this, and my first thought was, "It's Louie! I wanna dip my balls in it."* And Stifler's Mom. And Karen. And that lady from Glee and all the other movies I like and that really bad commercial for frozen dinners with Julia Louis Dreyfus. Pretty hilarious shit. And again, semi grateful for my office job.

* For shits and giggles, you should Google "Dip my balls in it." People are fucked up.

6. I only have a few weeks left of training for the half. I'm sore, but starting to imagine actually finishing. YG has been telling me to think about what I want to do after, so I signed up for this to keep things moving. 7.5 miles seem really NICE right now.

7. Lost: The Final Season -- I think I am too dumb for this show. They kill me. Every week I think I am going to learn something new, but end up drooling in confusion. Then I read Diva for explanations. Only slightly related: Matthew Fox and his new haircut should call me sometime.

8. New project -- I saw a link to this project, A Compendium of Dresses, on Already Pretty, and spent a not-insignificant portion of this weekend drooling over this girl's fabulous dresses. I'm also in the middle of my annual closet swap/cleaning/whatever and am excited to wear some of my older clothes. I didn't get to wear dresses last summer because of the post-baby weight and nursing, so it's almost like having a new wardrobe. Of way too much stuff. In the spirit of keeping myself busy and not spending money on clothes that I don't need, I am bringing back Outfits I Have Enjoyed.* Thirty one days in May, and hopefully thirty one outfits I have enjoyed.

* In looking back at those photos, I probably should change the tense to "had." Wow, I was off on some of those.

Brief Hiatus

Our nanny is away on a two-week vacation. That is the kind of phrase that strikes fear deep, deep, deep in my soul. My work is a mess, our house is a disaster, and I am vaguely aware of this person called my husband. Lots of blogs in the head, but not on the screen. Stay tuned.

Things I Like: The Situation Meets Mr. Hottie Met

David Wright and Mike, "The Situation." This kind of makes me want to go out and get a Vitamin Water. I believe my favorite comment on Youtube was, "the only thing he's fist pumping this year is your mom."

Ah, baseball season is back again!

Poem for a Rainy Monday

Dogfish by Mary Oliver.

Dogfish
Some kind of relaxed and beautiful thing
kept flickering in with the tide
and looking around.
Black as a fisherman's boot,
with a white belly.
If you asked for a picture I would have to draw a smile
under the perfectly round eyes and above the chin,
which was rough
as a thousand sharpened nails.
And you know
what a smile means,
don't you?
*
I wanted the past to go away, I wanted
to leave it, like another country; I wanted
my life to close, and open
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song
where it falls
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;
I wanted
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,
whoever I was, I was
alive
for a little while.
*
It was evening, and no longer summer.
Three small fish, I don't know what they were,
huddled in the highest ripples
as it came swimming in again, effortless, the whole body
one gesture, one black sleeve
that could fit easily around
the bodies of three small fish.
*
Also I wanted
to be able to love. And we all know
how that one goes,
don't we?
Slowly
*
the dogfish tore open the soft basins of water.
*
You don't want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don't want to tell it, I want to listen
to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.
And anyway it's the same old story - - -
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.
Mostly, I want to be kind.
And nobody, of course, is kind,
or mean,
for a simple reason.
And nobody gets out of it, having to
swim through the fires to stay in
this world.
*
And look! look! look! I think those little fish
better wake up and dash themselves away
from the hopeless future that is
bulging toward them.
*
And probably,
if they don't waste time
looking for an easier world,
they can do it.

The Good Die Young

There are so many things that suck about getting divorced that it's hard to start a post with "One of the worst things about getting divorced is..." Still, some things qualify as really bad. Like when you like your ex's friends or family, and you suddenly don't see or talk to them anymore. It's not like you stop caring about them. You do, but you can't just call somebody up and be all, "hey, remember when we used to be related? Fun!"

My former brother-in-law died yesterday after a long battle with cancer. He was 50 years old and leaves behind a wife and two young children, along with his mother and three siblings, including my ex-husband. I am finding it hard to put into words how sad this makes me feel.

I hadn't spoken to him in about four years, around the time that my marriage was disintegrating. I met F and his wife when I was 23 and they were in their late thirties. At the time, I thought I was so old and mature. Now I realize that I didn't know jack shit, but the family was never condescending and they welcomed me and hung around with my just-graduated-from-college friends and invited me to lots of things at their house. It was my first foray into the world of the suburban family with kids (other than my family of origin) and good practice -- I had fun helping with puppet and magic shows for the kids, hanging out in the backyard barbequing and playing volleyball. F was pretty hilarious and had a wicked sense of humor, and he and my ex played off each other really well. His whole family adored him -- sometimes jealous, sometimes irritated, but they knew he was a good guy. Even though things eventually went to hell, I give F and his wife lots of props for at least trying to understand, or at least ask me questions about how bad things were for me back then. There is a lot more I can say about him, but I know that this information is semi-public and it's not my story to tell -- it just seems unfair to lose someone who battled through so much shit and so many other terrible things throughout the course of his life.

I was there when their father died. I was there when F had a relapse of cancer. I was there when F and his wife adopted their second child. I think the last time I saw him was at his daughter's Communion. I'm not there now, nor would it be appropriate for me to be. But I am thinking of the family and those kids and just wishing, vibing, whatever, HOPING that they have the strength to make it through this.

Because You Care What I Think About Healthcare

So the bill is signed, and Armageddon has not yet arrived. I straddle two very, very different worlds in that I have worked for big, white corporations for over a decade now with lots of big-business types, but I live in The People's Republic of Cambridge and seem to be the centrist one among my hippie, trippy, lefty pinko friends. When that gavel hit, Facebook exploded and depending on what friend was posting, I could assume that either Fidel Castro was going to become the next President or all the world's ills would soon be solved by the new Virgin Mother, Nancy Pelosi.

So I give my friend, Steve, credit for posting the following:

"Raise your hand if you fully understand the supposedly "historic" health care bill and the ramifications it's going to have on our country. Putting Facebook, Twitter, New York Times, Wall Street Journal editorial/opinion pieces aside--and even your own political opinions/agendas--do you truly understand? If I only had a dollar for everyone who could explain the overhaul in 100 words or less."

The posts that followed were actually civil, and wide-ranging. Imagine that. I checked out the various "What Healthcare Reform Means For You" graphics on the New York Times and Washington Post, but I suspect that my feelings about this bill being passed would not be that different even if those graphics told me, "hey, take a good look, whitey, you're going to have to pay a shit ton more taxes now."

Do I want to pay more taxes? No. Do I believe in big government? No. Am I happy about all the back-door deals and strong arming that went on to pass this? No. Do I think that the bill is seriously flawed? Yes.

Still, I am extremely happy that it passed. To me, this is a moral issue more than anything else. How can the richest country in the world justify not taking care of its sick? How can we seriously believe that if you lose your job and get sick that you somehow deserve to bankrupt yourself and your family to get better? It doesn't jive with all those American values that we think are cheesy when used in statements about VALUES but secretly believe strongly in. It doesn't work. You take care of the sick. That's...just what you do. Right?

I could make more arguments about how we'll save money in the long run (preventative care, blah blah), but I really don't give a shit about those arguments. You take care of sick people because it's the right thing to do. It's not socialism.

The church I go to had a lot of good stuff to say about healthcare, and through them I found Faithful Reform. I really liked what their vision statement (bolds are mine). The language is a bit 'o divine merciful blessings on this beautiful godly day' for my tastes, but the message resonated strongly.

Vision ~ Inclusive: Health care is a shared responsibility that is grounded in our common humanity. In the bonds of our human family, we are created to be equal. We are guided by a divine will to treat each person with dignity and to live together as an inclusive community. Affirming our commitment to the common good, we acknowledge our enduring responsibility to care for one another. As we recognize that society is whole only when we care for the most vulnerable among us, we are led to discern the human right to health care and wholeness. Therefore, we are called to act with compassion by sharing our abundant health care resources with everyone.

Vision ~ Affordable: Health care must contribute to the common good by being affordable for individuals, families and society as a whole. We believe that in the sacred act of creation we are endowed with the talents, wisdom and abundant resources necessary to meet the needs of one another, including the health care needs of all. Therefore, in our calling to be faithful stewards, we understand our responsibility to use our health care resources effectively, to administer them efficiently, and to distribute them with equity.

Vision ~ Accessible: All persons should have access to health services that provide necessary care and contribute to wellness. We believe humanity is sacred and that all persons should benefit from those actions which contribute to our health and wholeness. Therefore, we are called to act with justice and love, to ensure that all of us have access to the health care we need in order to live out the fullness of our potential both as individuals and as contributing members of our society. We must work together to identify and overcome all barriers to and disparities in such care.

Vision ~ Accountable: Our health care system must be accountable, offering a quality, equitable and sustainable means of keeping us healthy as individuals and as a community. We believe that as spiritual and sacred vessels, we are responsible for the care of our bodies to the best of our ability and for the care of one another regardless of individual circumstances. Therefore, individuals, families, governments, businesses, and the faith community are called to work in partnership for a system that ensures fully-informed, timely, quality and safe care that treats body, mind and spirit.

I can't raise my hand and say that I know what the bill means for me, but I can say that I'm happy about it, and that whatever price I have to pay, I do think it's worth it.

Thanks Steve for the topic! :-)

I Need A Motherfucking Project

Because otherwise, I am not going to write. Seriously, this is just not going to happen for me if I don't have a deadline, so comments/suggestions/etc are welcome. I did great in writing class because there was a due date, and I do well if I commit to these "one entry a day, week, whatever" things. On my own, though? Not so much. My brain is just one long run on sentence.

What have I been up to?

* First there was the lead up to San Francisco. Long work hours, work drama, wanting to spend any minute left with Zygote and YG.

* And then there was San Francisco. I practically had a stroke leading up to this trip. I couldn't imagine being away from Zygote that long, and I was panicking about her starving to death and/or loathing me when I got back. Or worse, forgetting me. I also over-planned a bit, trying to imagine what it was going to be like dealing with the TSA and a cooler full of breastmilk.

As usual, my imagination was far, far worse than reality. It was fine. The TSA gave me no problems at all. The pumping sucked, but I expected that, and I can now cross "pump at 35,000 feet" off my life's to-do list. Sadly, I will probably never be a member of the mile-high club, but pumping? Aw, yeah. Rock!

I suffered from WILD mood swings the entire time I was gone. I could go from "woo hoo, I can do whatever I want. Let's go get fucked up!" to "I am going to steal your baby and suckle it" in a matter of seconds. And then I got a sinus infection and spent a day in bed. And then some bitch told me that I didn't know how to do my job, and I actually called YG and cried and said "I want to come home" like a kid calling his mom from summer camp. And then one of my work BFFs got some shit news. And then I ate nothing but cookies and bacon and alcohol for four days. And then I got ripped a new asshole by someone super senior. And....EXHAUSTING.

And, oh yeah, and then I took a red eye home, managed to get a cab from the only white, English-speaking cabbie around who also happened to be a talker and Glen Beck hater and 'the world is ending' kind of dude, and at 7:30 a.m. , opened the door to my wide-awake baby, overtired husband, and my parents, sleeping on an air mattress in the living room of our very-small apartment.

* For the past few weeks, I have just been digging out, and getting into near fist fights at Shaws. I'm still training for that half marathon, and the runs are getting longer and more intense, and the rest of my time is spent with Zygote.

So, yeah, I need a motherfucking project.

Happy Birthday, YG!

Happy birthday to the bestest of the best people I have ever known.
San Fran is not quite the same without you.

Animal Planet

This Is What A Relationship Looks Like: Black Ops Edition

Sometimes you end up having conversations about things you really never imagined you would have conversations about. Like, you know, what you would name your own butthole.

To set some context, I bought YG the first two seasons of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia for Valentine's Day. We were discussing our favorite episodes, and I mentioned that my all time favorite episode is the one where Dee wants to have a Sex&The City girls night out, and they are all drinking cosmos and Artemis shouts out, "I have a bleached asshole!" Hilarity ensues.

Multiple tangents later, we get to this conversation:

Me: Ha, ha, ha. "I have a bleached asshole!"

YG: Your asshole is named Blanche.
Me: Blanche, the bleached asshole.
[editorial note: I still do not quite get the whole bleached asshole thing. If you don't either, I suggest you resist the urge to
Google Image Search]

Me: What should we call your asshole?

(YG ponders)

YG: Black Ops.

Me: Black Ops?

YG: Yeah, Black Ops. Beyond top secret military missions.

Me: Ok.

YG: In the defense budget, there's a whole line item for Black Ops, but nobody really knows what it is.

Me: Okay, so your asshole is Black Ops.

YG: Get it? Double entendre.

Me: Yeah, got it.

YG: You are not sufficiently laughing.

Me: Funny.

YG: Black Ops IS funny.

Me: I GET YOUR DOUBLE ENTENDRE.

YG: But you are not laughing hard enough.

YG: I turn a deaf ear to you now. Literally.

Me: Now THAT's funny.

The Universe Conspires

Against my blogging. I had this wonderful post in my head last night about how things have been going pretty good here for a while, or not going well, but I am pretty mellow, thus the appearance of things going well. And then Zygote woke me up at 5 this morning, and it was snowing and cold and this fucking conference and business travel and school vacation blows when you're working and blah, blah, blah. Woe is me.

So no long post on how mellow and Simply Abundant I am. Just more lists:

Recently read: Everything Is Illuminated -- Again, about five years after everyone else did, but lovely and heartbreaking and funny.

Reading: Confessions of an Economic Hit Man by John Perkins -- Fast, interesting read. At some points not believable, and at others, grotesquely so. Also, horray, I am not in the most soul sucking profession. It could be worse.

Listening: The Away We Go soundtrack -- I liked the movie. I really like the soundtrack. Such a good hipster. Plus, now I can stop saying that I discovered Alexi Murdoch from a Zach Braff movie.

Watching: LOST. I'm not salivating with excitement, but I do end most episodes thinking 'what the fuck just happened?' and that is why I love me some LOST. Diva recaps so that I don't have to.

Watching: Big Love. Mormons are fucked up, yo. I loved the gay Albee story line, and feminist Margene. Could do without the campaign.

Watched: Julie and Julia. I was meh about the book, but it was the first thing I read post-Zygote, so I found it entertaining. Meryl Streep was fabulous, but I could have done without so much of Julie's twentysomething angst. Even more irritating is the fact that my mother saw this movie, loved it, and told me that the Julie character reminded her SO MUCH of me. Please refute. Thank you.

Enjoying: The Best Life Ever. Have I linked to these folks before? I found them through some link love, and have read them weekly ever since. They make me happy when I am feeling grumptastic like the morning I described above. And then manage to write about being happy in a way that is not all barfy, simple abundance style.

Upcoming: San Francisco. Five nights away from Zygote. I can count on my hands the number of times I have not put her to bed since she's been born. I anticipate this being tough. I also anticipate finding my strength in good food and mixed drinks (aw yeah, pump and dump).

Little Artiste

JD's Dead

J.D. Salinger died last week. I still remember reading Catcher in the Rye for the first time out in Long Island. The copy was my dad's and it's still out there -- maroon covered and yellow paged. I was in middle school, and I thought I had stumbled across me in print. My high school quote was from Catcher, and I just assumed that I was the ONLY ONE that really got Holden. We were both sooooo misunderstood.

And then I found out that every frat turd in the world also thinks he is Holden Caufield, and I had a glimpse of my future corporate life. Sigh.

Erin Shea wrote a really lovely post about Salinger's death that you should go check out. Especially poignant is this bit:

"It’s funny to me now that I requested such a non-conformist book for such conformist reasons. I cut myself a modicum of slack, obviously, since I was all of 12, and when you’re 12 you desperately try to locate that secret space in the world where you’re unconditionally accepted by everyone for being staunchly, fiercely not like any of them at all. That place doesn’t exist, of course, but it takes years, many regrettable decisions concerning your hair, both its length and color, and the sheer exhaustion that comes from trying to fit in before you stop caring as much.

I wanted to read Catcher in the Rye because that’s what someone like the person I thought I wanted to be would read. It’s that simple. And I read it. And it changed everything.

Hyperbole aside, books like these for kids who lean towards awkwardness, like me, are game changers. This is how it happens for us. We know we’re supposed to like what everyone else likes, and for the most part we really do, but something else in the universe is calling us, moving us toward it, moment by moment, until we’re almost there. Books like Catcher land in our laps and it’s the first of many of those moments. Without it, we’re not ready for the next one when it comes along. We needed the first to unlock the rest."

I was so desperate to escape my middle-class suburban life and my perfect classmates and my parents that didn't understand.
And I escaped reading my DAD's old book.

Sometimes Our Coworkers Are Funny (Even Funnier Than Me)

I told my coworker that I was planning to just put "Fuck You" on my email signature at work and out-of-office autoreply. His funnier out-of-office autoreply is as follows:

Thank you for your email.

As there is a 98% chance your question or request is stupid or fucking annoying, please do not expect a reply.
It is also quite likely that I won’t answer your phone call or return your messages.

You can especially fuck yourself raw if your note is:
- Just a “thanks” or “heads up”
- If you are reminding me to buy tickets to your event. Your event SUCKS, and I hate you.
- Has ANYTHING to do with [insert name of trade show that drives us batshit every year].

Don’t bother calling another member of the snot-nosed, uncooperative PR team.
We all hate you.

All media inquiries may go to [insert PR agency name].

I hate you.
[Insert name]

THAT is a thing of beauty.