to love and to cherish

Tomorrow my old college buddy Mel and my young dems buddy Trey are getting married....to each other. They are like salt and pepper, peanut butter and jelly, macaroni and cheese, Fred and Ginger - just basically two people who are absolutely perfect for each other and who belong together. I think the world sighed a big breath of relief when these two souls finally met on that fateful day a little over two years ago.

So for them I'd like to share a little bit of wisdom from my wedding that has held great meaning for us.

Trey & Melissa: Because you will be safe in marriage, you can risk; because you have been promised a future, you can take extraordinary chances. Because you know you are loved, you can step beyond your fears; because you have been chosen, you can transcend your insecurities. You can make mistakes, knowing the other will be there to catch you. And because mistakes and risks are the very essence of change, of expansion, in marriage you will expand to your fullest capacity.

I love you guys. I wish you a lifetime full of joy and happiness. :)

runnin' wild

Congratulations to my birthplace, Zanesville, Ohio for making national news. It's not everyday that "Zanesville" is a trending twitter topic, and you bet I soaked it up for all it was worth.

Now, whenever people ask where I'm from, I'm going to proudly tell them that yes, I'm from the town where someone opened the Jumanji board and set all the jungle animals free. <3 Y-CITY 4 LYFE!!!

Muskingum County Sheriff Matt Lutz speaking with animal expert and Ohioan Jack Hanna.
"These are wild animals, wild animals that you would see on TV .. in Africa." -- Lutz

shine til' tomorrow

This is what I'm listening to at work, on repeat, and it's mellowing me out. Thank you, Ray Charles.



silence like a cancer grows

You know you're under a lot of stress when you see this on your twitter feed and start crying before you even click the link.

The link to the story is here. Basically, it's just the fucking worst. I'm sitting here bitching about not having paid leave for Christmas and this is happening in Baltimore City. Literally two blocks away from where I'm sitting right now.

My head has been everywhere this week. And for some reason, everything has been a trigger. Yesterday I had to leave work and take a walk because I couldn't stop my brain from going there. And there's no one who can offer any relief so I just get to deal with it on my own.

This world is messed up.

He'll meet you wherever you are

This is where my blog takes an unexpected turn for the religious. I'll make it brief.

In the 6 months that I've worked at the Johns Hopkins Hospital campus I've had the chance to get to know one of the most touching traditions/fixtures of the Hopkins Community, the Jesus statue. The Jesus statue is under the dome of the original entrance to the hospital. His arms are outstretched and below him is written "Come unto Me, ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28). Patients and visitors leave notes, flowers and pictures at the base of his feet, and there is also a book where people can write their prayers.

Like many Hopkins employees, I make sure to take the route through the hospital instead of around it so that I can pass Jesus, touch his foot, say a prayer and cross myself. It's so brief, but it brings unexpected peace to my day. And peace is exactly what I always pray for; world peace and peace in my life, the peace that comes with forgiveness and the peace that comes with healing.

I am normally rushing by and don't stop to read any of the notes or look at any of the pictures, but the other day I saw a note attached to a flower that said "Please pray for us, we need prayers." It's hard to say why this note caught my eye, but it stopped me right in my tracks. I've been praying for myself, asking for peace in my life, and not for anyone else. I've been so selfish. And comparatively to the patients who have traveled the world to seek some of the best care available, my life is pretty easy and I should be thankful.

Maybe I've been avoiding the notes, the photos of kids with cancer and the heart-wrenching pictures of a child holding Jesus' hand drawn in crayon, or the desperate pleas for a cure. His outstretched arms and the scripture make me think of those for whom visiting the hospital means never returning home and so having to make peace with death. I spend about 4 seconds looking up at Him and saying my short prayer while there are people kneeling at His feet begging for their life. And you know, honestly, I feel honored. I feel honored to be part of this Hopkins tradition of prayer and thoughtfulness. I tend to be a "religion is a personal matter" kind of person and I don't wear my Catholicism on my sleeve, but for those few seconds when I'm in the presence of God and crossing myself in public, I am proud and humbled.

There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus

right out of my mouth

I don't need to ever post about name change because it's all right here.

falling, yes I am falling

I don't get it. Everyone told me to take care of myself. So I did that. I took charge of my own life and it felt great. And then...I get accused of being neglectful. I don't get that. I can't take care of anyone else unless I take care of myself, I always thought that was rule #1.

Whatever. I'm just being grumpy. My life is actually going quite well, thank you.

got milk?

One of my favorite feminist bloggers, The Feminist Breeder recently posted this awesome entry about formula marketing in hospitals, to which another blogger named Jessica, who's blog I've never read before responded accordingly in a way that sparked much debate. They then each responded, both very eloquently. You can find Feminist Breeder's response here and Jessica's response here.

They both had well thought out arguments, but if I had to pick a side I have to say I'm with Feminist Breeder. That being said, I don't think we really need to pick sides. I love that it opened up some honest discussion about breastfeeding that is beyond the typical "Breastfeeding is a choice" rhetoric that I'm so tired of everyone being defensive about. It's really worth a read.

hit me baby one more time

I'm decidely not old enough to make any permanent decisions that will affect me for the rest of my life. This is why I have no tattoos. But this is not the reason I don't have children.

I just want to make the outright statement that my reason for not wanting children is not because I'm "not ready". I say that sometimes, I've even said it in this blog, but it's a short answer that somehow seems easier than truly explaining why I choose to be child-free.

I'm not even close to the end of my child-bearing years, I have a comfortable 15 more years to begin the journey of parenting, if that's what I chose to do. I'm not so naive that I would make a blanket statement of "never having kids". Life changes.

But I'm a bit offended by the "not ready" remarks, which admittedly are probably fueled by my own quick response, because I believe it is creating an absolute in which all women are called to be mothers and those of us who aren't are somehow not up to the responsiblity or not ready to give up our young freedoms. It is because I am comfortable with who I am and still deciding how I'll make my mark on this world that I have no need or desire to bring another human into the picture that is my life. Not to mention kids are the worst. Just the worst.

B and I occasionally discuss the "when we have kids" scenerio but that conversation usually ends with "ugh, kids are the worst." I know I wrote this post about how I didn't want to have kids because I was scared of gender socialization, but the longer I am not a parent, the happier I am as a non-parent, and the more I resent comments like "oh you'll change your mind" (okay well the same could be said for your choice to birth that thing that just shot poop up its back) or "it's different when it's your own kids" (that's exactly what I don't want).

Let me disect that last thing for a second. Sunday I was at a Panera Bread eating my grilled chicken ceasar salad in peace next to a table of 9-ish year old girls after a soccer game. These two girls were talking and the one was like...telling a story? Or ... a joke? I'm not sure. She was trying to set up a scene where there were these colored doors and you had to choose a door, and what was behind each one...I dunno. It was the worst thing ever. Listening to her ramble on about what was behind the green door, I wanted to throw my apple and have it hit her right in the face. That's how annoyed I was. And the parents either had completely tuned her out (awful) or thought it was adorable (also awful). I don't want either of that. That's what parenthood is. It's dealing with a person from conception getting bigger and bigger and learning how to negotiate the world. No thank you.

I'm going to stop myself here, and leave my post about why I want more rights for non-parents for a later date (seriously, if you choose to parent, don't shove that thing in my face, thanks) because I need to get back to my very busy life of non-parenting and keeping my money for myself. There is no poop or spitup on my shirt and I don't have to teach anything to pee in a toilet. And I don't have to pay for anything to go to college. Life is good. (Go ahead, blow up the comments about how rewarding parenting is. I might experience it someday. But this is my choice.)

and the bride wore white

Last weekend I was sitting on my couch with my close-circle friend E. and fellow bridesmaid for other close-circle friend M. looking at the cover of the movie Bridesmaids.

Did you see Bridesmaids? It was amazing. It had an all-female leading cast, and what was great about it was that it wasn't a chick-flick, it was just a comedy, like The Hangover or Superbad. But it was all women. But it wasn't about the fact that they were women. Seriously, that blows my mind. And you know what? It was funny. SO funny. I nearly peed my pants during the whole movie, I was laughing so hard I almost forgot to add the vodka to my rootbeer. Almost.

But now that that's out of the way, I have a serious problem with it. The DVD cover (and I guess the promo poster?) is both ridiculously photoshopped and white washed.

What you need to do is to open this image and look very closely.

http://collider.com/wp-content/uploads/bridesmaids-blu-ray-cover.jpg

I know around the net there has been some complaint about how Melissa McCarthy (left) was covered up while the the other, thinner actresses were more exposed, but in the big picture, I can deal with that. I have two problems with this picture. First of all, look at their feet. Look very close. Look at their toes. Have you ever worn shoes like that? I have. For about 10 seconds in a store. My toes do not look like that. It's just not possible. All those shoes are ridiculously photoshopped to make it look like they are comfortable and all the same size. No. I am not okay with this.

Second of all, look at their skin color. Look at their legs and where their arms are touching. Notice something? Yeah. They're all the same color. They're all the same "very white but not too pale" white. Exactly. Even Maya Rudolph (the one in the bridal gown). You know why I have a problem with this? Maya Rudolph is half black. So why is she the same color as Kristen Wiig? This is what they should look like.

To be fair, I know that everyone's skin color can vary based on many factors such as lighting and age but I tried to choose a photo where Kristen Wiig didn't look "too white" or that Maya Rudolph looked "too black". 

Okay, maybe I'm making too big a deal out of this, but I feel like if I were to go out and find 5 other light skinned women and then we took a picture of all of us you would see a much broader variation in our skin types, not just lighter and darker but skintones that are more pink or more yellow or more olive, and yet, in this image they are somehow all exactly the same.

Leave your comments below. Oh and you should still see Bridesmaids, you'll laugh so hard you might hurt something.