Wednesday, January 12, 2005
too much caffeine
And a very tired Nome make for a very long night of blogging.
I've mostly been reading them this evening. There's a lively debate about whether it's okay to use the word "retard" on Gage's site. I was pissed-off when I heard that Lindsay Lohan was forced to apologize for using that word on a talk show, and I don't think it's an intrinsically offensive term like "nigger," or "chinaman" (actually saw that word in a silent film today, and I was so surprised that I laughed out loud!), plus I believe in freedom of speech as long as one doesn't instigate or encourage hatred. Gage's comments were not hateful or discriminatory; they were in reference to Nigerian email scams, and since I happen to agree that those people are RETARDS, I see no reason not to spell it out in writing.
People can raise debate about whatever they want, as far as I'm concerned, but I am not okay with the moral high ground. I hate self-righteousness, and I hate people who think that they know best. It's so fucking ignorant and definitely not the way I want to live my life.
But enough with that.
I've had three cups of coffee today, which is more than I EVER have, and it has turned me into a blabbering, compulsively-typing little monster. So bear with me here.
I feel a bit better about Professor Emperor today. It feels almost as though we've been through a messy break-up, and now we have to smooth things over and try to be friends again so he can give me some decent grades for my blood, sweat, and toil in his class. I'm exploring other potentially exciting things to do with my time, like take spinning classes (though the people on those bikes do remind me of overworked, understimulated hamsters), or maybe some capoeira. Capoeira I did VERY briefly in Switzerland, and I still have the uniform. I know it's both incredibly physically tough and interesting, with the emphasis on incredibly physically tough. But I'm in slightly better shape now, and the whole thing will be in English instead of heavily Brazilian-accented French like the last time, so I figure I'll be a little less lost.
I also discovered last night that in the past four months or so I have lost 11 pounds. Other than the gym, I have done absolutely nothing to TRY and get there. It just kinda happened. Timbits (that's doughnut holes for you American/foreign folks) are still one of my favourite things ever, and the possibility of eating them still helps me to get up in the morning. I still get peanut butter cookie cravings and I still eat instant noodles when I'm studying. I still think that chocolate-covered almonds are some of the smartest little confectionaries ever invented, and I continue to buy chocolate bars from cheerleaders and mint cookies from Girl Guides. I still think that eating fried food is fine about 3-4 times a week and deep-frying is just dandy whenever I'm feeling blue. I didn't avoid Christmas cookies and I do not think that carbs are the work of the devil.
In short, I am not dieting. I think 11 pounds is pretty impressive for zero effort, food-wise.
I've contemplated losing a lot more weight, but not if I have to do anything more than work out, which I would do anyway. I like the whole "achieving things without trying" concept. My whole life everyone has tried to tell me that only hard work yields rewards, and while learning that hard work does not always get you what you want is a truly painful experience, learning that you can get somewhere if you don't try is a really delightful one.
I also discovered my pink shirt with sequins on it that say "LONDON" in my closet last night, which for some reason made me ridiculously happy. I suppose I am easily pleased. Today I wore (with my super-frayed, on-their-last-legs Milan jeans, of course), a yellow 3/4 sleeve shirt with the pink shirt over that and a purple wool hoodie over that. I realised just how bright the colours were when I sat next to this girl (who we'll call Rave) in my history class. I've known Rave for about four years now (she reminds me a lot of Gage lately for some reason), and she's in many ways a really cool chick: she's independent, financially-successful, brilliant, well-travelled, totally outspoken, quite beautiful in her own pale-faced sort of way, always looks well put-together, and is ALWAYS, ALWAYS dressed head-to-toe in black. For the first time ever, she was wearing a red sweater today, alongside the usual funereal outfit, and I found myself looking from her to me and then back again and chuckling to myself at the comparison.
I don't wear bright clothes to be noticed. In fact, most of the time I want so much to avoid being noticed (especially by older men) that I would quite like to wear a burqa and only have my eyes showing. But bright colours make me happy, particularly when I'm feeling blue, and since I'd like to avoid expensive therapy and drugs for as long as humanly possible, I'll take what works.
I'd like to write more but it's wickedly late and the caffeine is running out.
My request for the day is that people COMMENT on my blog, if only to say that they're reading it. Hell, you can even comment to say you're offended, which some of the rejects from Gage's blog may do at some point. Go right ahead. I'll happily engage in debate and I won't be MORALLY OFFENDED at what you say. But be warned, I may call you an idiot. Or a retard.
To bed, to bed, the walrus said.
Cordial salutations,
-N
