Tuesday, April 28, 2009

sigh...

If Saturday was the official promo of Summer, I must say.

Summer will be filled with school fairs, bouncy castles, picnics in the park, luxurious coffees with very good friends, and well, longing for fabulous hair and pedicures.

But other than that last item, it looks like it's gonna be gooooooooooooooood.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

in between thoughts...

So against all better judgment, I let Janey follow up on some early big talk from me, and have agreed at her urging to sign myself up for the 10k run on Ottawa Race Weekend. Wanna see some hurtin'? Well, come on down!!! (It appears that Husband and the childrens won't make it, as it's an evening run. That plan may change, but right now, it looks like Janey and I are responsible for running and cheering at the same time.)

Right.

So I was discussing this with Mrs. Maiden - the run, not the cheering - and my suspicions that it might not quite be as easy as, well, Janey promises.

'Ooh', said Mrs. Maiden, 'I need to get you that info for the library program' [the Tucson library allows you to download books 'on-tape' to load on your i-pod for listening literacy. They don't care where you do it from, as long as you have the library card number. So, conceivably, I could be listening to books while I'm trying to kill myself through adding impossible distances.] 'That would be great, mom', I said, 'I'll try it. Currently, I've been listening to really loud music to help me keep going. And you know, Britney says I can do this....' [actually, Britney asks me to let her break the ice, to allow her to get me right. She tells me that she's miss bad media karma.... and also, pant, pant, pant....]

'You're listening to her?' Mrs. Maiden said, 'What else is she telling you - shave your head and have babies???'

Heeeeeeeeeee.

And then the discussion degenerated [as it always does] into more talk of Britney and in particular, how much her 'life' [read life prison sentence] sucks. I mean, she has tons of money, we might imagine, but she can't spend it, or leave the house, or talk to ANYONE because they all run to the press. She can't even talk to the people she pays to be her friends, because they do too. Her parents are too busy being her gaolers to talk to her.

She's done everything she can think of to break out of her iron clad gilded prison, but she's stuck. Crazy or medicated, well-behaved or not, it doesn't matter what she does. Take her pants off? Shave her head? Behave perfectly normally while on medication? Trapped under the fame microscope and held there in the shining glare by her parents. They sold her, and they're making sure their investments of time and energy are going to darn well pay off.

And then I was running the other night, and it hit me (these things used to happen in the twilight between sleep and awake, but I don't get that anymore. So it's during running.)

Jamie really isn't as stupid as people thought. She's not.

I think she took a look at what happens when your parents sell you to Disney and wanted out. And I think she saw that she had a limited time to do it - Britney's behaviour has changed nothing in her situation but make it an even tighter bind, and only a few short years separate them. So I think she took the first out she was offered, and got pregnant. Sure, there's some notoriety (or was) but I'm pretty sure there's enough money for her to be able to live normally for a good long time. Lynn ensured that when she sold the picture rights to that baby.

But she's free. She'll be on those 'where are they now' shows, but she's living a life of her own choosing.

Who knew we'd cheer for the 17-year-old mom?

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Dating and biology (or Katie's rules of dating)

Welcome, my dears, to a requested posting (yup! I do take requests!), and also to a discussion of my very first passion. Well, after French kissing, which does sorta lend itself to our discussions today. French kissing is awesome. (Well, if done right. And, if done right, it doesn't use your thinking brain, which is also part of our discussions today.)

So let us begin.

First, let me say that this passion, learned in University, is the basis (or part of the basis) of today's discussion, that being, political biology. Yeah, that's what I said. I studied it, and I love it. Sure, I do finance and stuff like that, but really, this is the stuff I find fascinating.

The general concept of this theory is that humans, as an evolutionary animal, have not changed that much since we've appeared. the time we've been here is not nearly long enough for serious evolutionary change. Sure, we've gone and started making really great textiles, and some neat machines, and all, and our brains are doing some stuff like writing, and thinking has really, really evolved, but there's this biological part of us that's still doing it's best to manage our biological imperative while all the brain and 21st century stuff is going on. (Just FYI - I'm not going to start talking about how it's so much more stressful NOW that it was in Elizabethan England when people were being chased by tigers and knights and stuff. So forget it. Hee. And also, hi, Suzanne!)

The biological imperative is that we are here to keep ourselves here. Simple, right? So everything that we do is to ensure that humans, as a species, remain here. Most of our behaviour can be explained by this. Chucking our genes into the future, in such a way that we're setting them up for the most success - the success of OUR genes (by extension, this explains the family/herd/community thing. Those living closest to you generally have similar genetic makeup - thus, vested interest in their success as well.)

Ok. So we've got that concept? Everyone clear on that? I'm not talking about sexism. I'm talking about biology. We do not need to be ruled by biology, but it helps to understand where we, as an animal, are coming from in our behaviour.

Right.

So now, let's talk about dating.

Dating is really difficult, in that it's a melding of the most simple of imperatives with the complexities of 21st century social morales. (Hah! And you thought this was going to be fluffy!!) See, we're trying to obey all of these social rules - no snorking, being 'polite', eating correctly, being interesting and no trash talk while at the same time, trying to meet the more basal needs of ourselves as animals. Will you be the right potential mate to help me get my genes into the next generations successfully? YES, I AM!! (or maybe not.)

This concept can be used to explain a whole lotta reasons why we find each other attractive: men, in general, like a lady with boobs. Generally speaking - please no hate mail. They like a bit of curve, (social rules have changed the more to less, but really, if they're honest, and you look at penthouse, there are curves there. Just sayin') Curves, and boobs, speak to a lady's fertility, and chances, again, of chucking the genes forward. More interestingly, they've done research that shows that in general, gentlemen find a specific face shape more attractive. Wanna know? Ok. Well, it's when the eyes are wide spaced and relatively large for the face and the mouth, and jawline are rather pointed and small. There's a specific equation to size of mouth relative to cheek bone, but I won't (and probably can't) get into it. The hypothesis is that this face shape more closely resembles a younger female, thus, again, one who might be able to more easily get the genes forward.

Ladies, on the other hand, like a well-muscled guy. Why? Well, protection of us and our young. A sensitive guy? He'll probably stick around. A younger lady likin' the older fella? Well, he's a little more settled, he's probably a better provider, thus.....

Guys sleeping around, in general, and the ladies not so much? Guys don't need to be there for young. It's better for them, biologically speaking, to get as many potential genes out there. Ladies - well, if our genes are going to do well, we're pretty much going to need some help. (I know, I know, ladies are doing it for themselves. I KNOW. But generally speaking, it helps.) So not sleeping with him on the first date? Well, a lady needs to know that her potential gene partner would be the kind of guy who would stick around and invest in them.

So.

Katie's rules to dating?

Keep this in mind. The best dating is done on a 21st century level when brains can be activated, but at the same time, when timing works out and the genes are satisfied with their chances of getting' forward.

How so? Well, if we look at the rules, fem it up. Cavemen like a pretty lady. and men deserve to be treated as men.

When cavemen are attracted to the pretty lady, (and you know when that is and is not - be honest with yourself) then you engage their brain. (ooooo, shiny, pretty, soft. Smells yummy....) I am not saying men are cavemen, I'm just saying that this is part of the force of who we are as humans. Cavemen are hunter/gatherers. They need to be needed. They don't feel needed if you've got it together. If they don't see room for their super-solution providing selves in your life, then they feel that they have nothing to bring, and they move themselves on. (tarun tara!! Where's my maiden??) Find them a project. A THING that you cannot do by yourself. Something heavy to move. If you need to, break your own damn thing and lose your screwdriver. Just keep them entertained with needing to help you and protect you. (But not too much. There's a fine, fine line between helping/caring and bailing the sinking ship. Know what I mean?)

Ally McBeal had this piece of wisdom: ok, it was her sassy black friend, who said that you needed to concentrate on the thing men found attractive about you. "I think that's my eyes" Ally said winsomely, gazing off-screen.
"Snort," said her generously breasted friend in a plunging shirt, "be real."
"ok, she pouted," then it's my lips."

So what is that thing? Well, in my case, while my milkshake doesn't bring ALL the boys to the yard, it can bring a few. As does the potential promise of some tasty cookies with that milkshake.

Which brings me to:

There are reasons for traditional social roles. You do not have to live by them, and I wouldn't recommend that you do. You don't even have to agree with them, or like them, but they exist, and they're in play right now. I, for example, do not carry my trash out. Nor do I mow the lawn. I don't even have the faintest idea of how to start the lawn mower. Cue image of me staring mystified at the red machine in my garden shed (There's a pull thingy, right? And then....) Similarly, husband is equally unsure of how I make the majority of food in the house. (and seriously, sometimes has to ask how to use the washer.) And that's fine. Sure, there are all of those earnest women's libber gentlemen who are offended, OFFENDED by the Disney princesses. Well, me too, but because of the bastardization of traditional stories. I mean. But not for what they represent. They represent girls who worked hard and overcame adversity for their reward. Tenacity and then a crown. Good.

I ran into this guy a few weeks ago, and he was shocked at this interpretation. "Well, I guess", he said, "we need to scrub briefing notes...." "Dude," I said, "I dunno how it works at your house, but when I get home, there's going to be some scrubbing that needs to be done. Dishes and toilets will be dirty." I may not be the only one doing it, but it still needs to get done. That has not changed.

Men love a smart, successful lady, but especially so if they can see room for themselves and their genes in that life.

And when in doubt, there's Husband's addage: "Men will do anything for sex." "But why would he have......" I will say, and he will say "say it with me. Men. Will. Do...." And see? That's explained too.

Know the rules, and use them to your advantage. That's my rule.

Rules for early spring

The seven pound weight loss in three days caused by the horrible, horrible, horrible upper respiratory infection your youngest child brought into the house is, as you announced, unsustainable (even though you really hoped it actually was.)

The shingles on your nose brought on by the stress to your system will last longer than the weight loss. Ditto the sinus infection and post-nasal drip.

Don't listen to your mother when she tells you (in detail) how flushing her nose did such wonders for her that you should try it too. A) The details are disgusting - involving something that looked like a 'cockroach'. Shuuuuuuuuuder. B) What will actually happen is that the flushing won't be resolved through expected avenues. Instead, everything will be sent down the back of your throat, resulting in a wave of nausea that will force you to spend the better part of Easter morning in bed.

Sigh.

On the other hand, though, the long weekend was pretty awesome. And very inspirational in the potential for (if not the actual of) getting things done. We recuperated (for the most part) from the cold and from MlleL's My Little Pony Rodeo birthday party, did laundry, and bought groceries. She's officially 4 - all bony bummed and sassy.

The other day, she asked my why my underwear always gave me a fudge.

As in: tug, tug, tug....

"you ok there?"
"my underwear was giving me a fudge."
"Hmm?"
"you know, when your underwear...... Mama, why does your underwear always give you a fudge?"
"Well, I guess that's what underpants sometimes do?"
"No, yours. Yours are always in your bum. There's no....."
"Ahh. Well, I think the word you mean is wedge, honey. Fudge is that yummy stuff we eat at the Chicken Restaurant [Cora's]."

Yes, I did do my best to sidestep that conversation. I just can't think of how to explain avoidance of VPL to my 4-year-old, ok? And besides, I've already had this conversation with bosslady's boss, way back when. [Katie, she announced, having inspected (I can only imagine) the proof, do you wear thongs???] And it was just as intimidating then as it was last week.