Thursday, April 10, 2014

Stop Burning Harry Potter Books, Kidz Bop is the Real Evil

Reasons why Kidz Bop is the worst thing humans have ever done:

1. They spell "Kidz" with a Z.

This reminds me of people who still use "txting language" even though we've invented autocorrect. People who still say "coolio," and who still say stuff like "u r cool." Why are we promoting this? Seriously, it just about kills me to think that a bunch of business executives with advanced degrees sat in a room and were all like, "Hey, how do we market this stuff to kids?" and they figured that spelling something incorrectly was obviously the best way to do it.

2. They pick songs with terrible messages and think that by changing all of the bad words, that the song is magically okay for children. 

If you've ever looked at the back of a Kidz Bop CD, you find hits that you would find on any radio station, except all of the bad words are taken out and replaced by stupid phrases. I also can't stand when they sing songs that are obviously written by emotionally troubled adults. You know that song "I Don't Care (I love it)?" You know, the one where the girl crashes her car into the bridge and watches it burn after a guy (who's about twenty years older than her) dumps her? I just can't trust that song being sung by a nine year old kid. Especially since they're singing it with a big ass grin on their face, as if mental instability is hilarious. Seriously, nine year old, you don't understand. Your biggest hardship in life thus far has probably been getting a girl toy in your happy meal instead of the boy one. We all know you wanted the ninja turtle over the princess one. Go cry me a river.

3. These kids are making more money than I am. 

Seriously, go f*** yourself, nine year old singer of Kidz Bop. You lend your prepubescent voice to a cause that is cultivating a degenerate breed of children, and you are making more money per album than I will ever make in my life. 1

Another diet rant

I know I don't write in here nearly as often as I would like to, but today, I have that winning combination of something to rant about and enough free time to do so.

Before you start reading, however, I would like to warn you: this is another rant on diets. I know we really don't see enough posts about this (sarcasm), but I feel like my two cents is warranted.

What prompted this? Well, in the time that I have woken up, checked my news feed, read the news, and drank my morning cup of tea, I have been exposed to a fistful of HEY, HERE'S A DIET THAT WORKS. And you know what? They all look really stupid. I wish I had a dollar for every time I saw something that promised "fast, long lasting results." I'm sorry, that's basically an oxymoron to me. Either you like bird food (and you have never had weight problems), or you don't, and you are overweight. Forcing yourself to like salads because it's what some "diet guru" says you should is not going to work.

I guess I'm sounding a bit harsh, but honestly, I have been exposed to this my entire life. I was dealt the "bad genetics" card. My parents worked full time to support us and didn't have the time to make all of those dumb "kid approved-healthy-animal shaped-paleo-no carb-no fat" pinterest snacks. Honestly, I wouldn't have cared if my celery was dressed up to look like a caterpillar, it was still celery, and it tasted awful. I was a fat kid, but I really ate no worse than any of my friends, they all just had lightning speed metabolisms, and so I was the one who was picked on.

And honestly, that's tough. I'll be the first to admit that this definitely prompted an unhealthy relationship with food. When I got to high school, I exercised two hours a day. I never ate macaroni and cheese, and sometimes I never ate lunch. I ate low fat TV dinners for dinner, and only drank diet soda. And you know what? I never realised how miserable I was doing that. I would never even THINK of doing that stuff now, because life is too short to be miserable. If I want a cookie, I will eat one. I won't eat five, because that's bad, but I will eat one because cookies taste glorious, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar.

Now, before you get the wrong idea, being really overweight is not a healthy thing. I definitely condone diets for those who really need to lose weight for health reasons, emotional reasons, whatever, but I think that we go about them the wrong way.

1. We first establish that people are fat. According to the all knowing BMI calculator, I am morbidly obese. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't waddle, I wear an average size for jeans, I have one chin, and I am not too big to ride on amusement park rides. My cholesterol, blood pressure, and all of those other levels are all normal/healthy, and my doctor has told me that I'm not actually obese. Now, personally, I know that if I lost 15 lbs, it would be beneficial, but I've decided not to put my trust and self worth into a scale number/online calculator that doesn't understand my love for bacon.

2. We tell said "fat people" to eliminate this, eliminate that, carbs are bad, fat is bad, don't eat so much, eat six meals a day, whatever. You know what's bad? Excessive ANYTHING. If you eat nothing but salads all day, that's not healthy. If you eat your weight in pasta every day, that's bad too. Now, if you FEEL better not eating so much bread, then do it, but if you are just going to be thinking about fries all day, then you won't feel much better. We tell fat people to eat vegetables all day, but don't teach them how to grow a vegetable garden (WHICH WILL MAKE YOUR VEGGIES SO MUCH CHEAPER). Seriously, bagged lettuce and freeze dried fruit gets expensive after a while.

3. Then, we tell fat people that they need to buy all of these packaged diet foods. You know why? Because diet companies, like everyone else in the world, like receiving money. If you are eating frozen rubbery chicken, and bland broccoli every night in a tray that looks like it would feel a two year old child, then you probably won't stick to your diet. Then you feel more guilty, and buy MORE diet food that will likely not be enjoyed. We tell them to eat less, and eat better foods, but don't teach them how to make it taste good. If you eliminate the butter from your vegetables, it won't taste as good, but if you add garlic/herbs/whatever, it probably will.

4. Now, once their self esteem is completely dependent on how well their diet is going, we tell them to exercise. Exercise is SO good for you, but nobody wants to run around on a treadmill all day like a damn hamster. That's just not enjoyable. Go ride a bike. Go for a walk. Maybe you won't work up a sweat, but you're still moving. Find something you enjoy. Honestly, I can't stand workout videos (if they work for you, disregard my opinion). I can't trust anyone who looks that happy doing push-ups in a cold gym all day. Most of us don't have the time to do two hours of pilates all day, just take pride in not sitting on the couch all day.

Anyway, the weather is nice, so I'm going to go ride my bike.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

I pretty much have the cure for obesity

Hello, world. 

It's that time of year again. Seals are getting mauled, people's arms are getting bitten off, and sharks are flying through the air. That's right, shark week is coming. And I'm super freaking excited, because I live for shark week. But it's not only the fact that I get to watch an entire weeks worth of shows devoted to one of nature's most perfect animals, it marks the beginning of the end of summer. It's kind of nature's way of saying, "Alright guys, wrap up the barbecues and pool parties, real life starts back up again pretty soon." And you know what? I'm pretty okay with that. Because honestly, I would take cooler weather, snow, flannels, and pumpkins over swamp ass and hair frizz any day. I make summer sound so attractive.

However, the end of summer is almost here, and unfortunately, it makes me realise that I really haven't done much towards the whole, "I'm gonna get fit and eat healthy" kick that I was so hoping to be on by now. I have discovered that in hot weather, I want to do nothing. Just nothing. So this afternoon, on the way home, I decided that I needed some sort of motivation to go exercise, and like any girl would, I decided that if I went and got some exercise shorts and a sports bra, I might be a little more apt to get my ass outside and do it. It was a sign, as I went inside of Walmart and saw exercise clothes practically staring me in the face. I also got stickers, because I can't think of anything to motivate me better than stickers. Except ice cream, but that's a no-no. 

But I also came up with a better idea. As with all undesirable things in life, I just need to word it differently. Instead of going out for a run, I'm gonna go prowl the neighbourhood in my running shoes. See? Prowling. It puts it in a whole new light for me. 

Mom: Hey, where were you?
Me: Just out prowling the neighbourhood. 

Instead of "cutting back," I'm boycotting the ice cream industry for trying to give me a heart attack.

Maybe we've been going about it all wrong. Maybe the cure for obesity is something as simple as optimism. And using euphemisms. 

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

How not exercising will save the world from Japan.

With the summer in full swing and almost nothing to do (aside from when I'm doing everything, of course), I like to take some time and contemplate my way of life a little. This normally takes about two minutes and involves this kind of thought process:

"I wish I had a car."
"I wish I had money."
"I'm hungry."


However, also with summer in full swing, means all of the white trash comes out to buy all of the junk food that's on sale at the grocery store. If you've ever seen a lady who's popped out six illegitimate children and apparently doesn't know what size shirt she wears, it isn't pretty. In fact, it's enough to make you think about pulling out the Wii Fit when you get home, which brings me to today's discussion:

My Wii Fit is a Condescending Piece of Shit

So I've done the right thing; I've decided to exercise. These random moments come to me periodically after I  end up eating my weight in chinese food, or after I've been lucky enough to remember that assignment in Life Skills class, where you had to write your family history on a cutout of a tree. Yeah, mine was basically a weeping willow. 

So I pulled my Wii Fit out, dusted it off, put fresh batteries in it, and turned it on when all of a sudden, the console greets me.

"Oh hello!... I seem to have forgotten your name.
It's been 762 days since your last workout!"

Not like we're counting or anything, right?
Then it tries to give you some "friendly fitness advice."

"Try laying off the afternoon snacks!"


So anyway, once you've taken that emotional abuse, you go ahead and bite the bullet and weigh yourself. Now, I'm blessed with the ability to look 30 lbs lighter than I actually am, so of course, this damn thing tells me I'm morbidly obese and to top things off, plays fat music. That's right. Fat music. Like, tubas and shit. As if I didn't feel bad enough about myself. Thanks Wii Fit.

People always imagine the apocalypse to be fairly sudden. One meteor crashing into the Earth. One disease that wipes out humanity. Zombies. Jesus. Whatever you believe, it's wrong. The Wii is going to find it's way into your home, earning your trust, and finally, when the moment is right, killing your self esteem until you are a slave to the console. Actually, Japan is probably just laughing at us as we speak. 

Thursday, May 30, 2013

This one is about giraffes

I haven't written in here in forever, as school really takes a toll on my creativity. However, I've had moments where I think of something witty that might work as a facebook status, but instead I wrote them down in my phone to be used as potential ideas for this blog.

1) How people get a giraffe from zoo to zoo.

I vaguely remember this one. I was sitting in Panera with one of my friends, and he was talking about how a giraffe got moved from one zoo to another, and we're both sitting there wondering how in the hell they transport something like a giraffe. I mean, there are those horse cart things that can go on the back of a truck, but I think it would really be quite awkward to see a giraffe's long ass neck sticking out of the top while driving down a highway. Actually, that sounds like something you could get a ticket for.

Officer: Hello, do you know why I've stopped you today?
Driver: Why, officer. I'm so sorry, I must not have been looking at my odometer; I'll try to be more careful next time.
Officer: Wrong. I couldn't help but notice you are transporting a giraffe. That's quite a distraction to other drivers.

That would make quite a story for your friends.

There was a Magic School Bus computer game that I used to play when I was little that involved finding the animals that were in the wrong habitat and transporting them back to the right one, and one of the animals that was in the wrong habitat was always a giraffe. And you know where I always found him? In the fucking arctic. Or at the bottom of the ocean. Seriously, people? You realise that even in a perfect world, I can't travel the world in a matter of seconds, and that giraffe would have definitely been dead by the time I got there to rescue it. Really poor planning on that zoo's part. I'm surprised there hasn't been a lawsuit by now. Anyway, they used a helicopter to transport them, with a cage hanging down which was where the animal went, but I still don't really find that to be an effective way to transport a zoo animal.

Now, here's the idea I propose, which probably already exists, we just don't know it: an underground railroad for zoo animals. Think about it, just stick a little staircase with an elevator in each exhibit that connects to a network of tunnels that each animal can use to go to other zoos. I'm not going to think this one through, because I'm sure there are other people who would actually like to, so I'll end this one for now.

To be continued.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Reflections on vanilla crack. And by "crack," I mean Tazo tea.

With of all of the middle upper class snobs in the world, why is it that when I go to Starbucks, I get stuck sitting next to the hippies that smell like feet?

I'll tell you why, it's because upper middle class people have no time to sit around in a Starbucks all day. They take their shit to go and drive off in their oversize SUVs to their decent paying jobs.

So why am I here? Why don't I just go to Dunkin Donuts? I'll tell you.

1) Tazo tea is my crack. And since I can't drink coffee (sadly), a Tazo tea latte is enough to fool me into thinking that I'm drinking some fancy overpriced flavoured coffee.

2) I have an image to uphold. The whole "I'm a broke college student but I own an iPad" image. It's harder than it sounds, trust me. So Starbucks is my way of fooling the world that I am too cool to eat dinner and that I would rather just live off of my fake overpriced coffee, because I'm young and I can get away with it.

3) This is the most important thing. Starbucks allows me to have an alter ego. This all started when my friend and I went to Starbucks one snowy day. You know how they ask you for a name to write on the cup, right? Well she was all like, "I'm gonna give them a fake name." And so she did. But she didn't give them just any name, right? She told them her name was "Roxanne." It's one thing to just be like, "hey my name is derp," but to give them a name with a completely different personality is so empowering and something you can do at Starbucks that you just can't get away with anywhere else. I mean, "Roxanne" just says, "I'm a free spirit girl with crazy hair and a flair for show business but I'm also a complicated soul deep down on the inside." That is just awesome.

So of course, next time I went to Starbucks, I was like, "I'm gonna try out a fake name." But I didn't want any conventional name, and I was pretty much joking with the guy because I was so offended he didn't ask me for a damn name, so I told him my name was Thaddeus, but in a girl way. So he gave it a female spelling and thus my Starbucks alter ego "Thaddieusse" was born.

I really wish I could drink coffee.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Because Wednesdays kind of really suck.

Bonjour world.

Wednesdays suck. I've figured this out because it's right smack dab in the middle of the week. It's obviously not Friday yet, but it's not even Monday, so it's not like you can just sit in your sweatpants all day long and watch netflix and use the excuse, "because it's Wednesday." Unfortunately, it doesn't work. I know because I've tried.

Wednesdays suck because it's typically the busiest day of the week. For everyone. So if you're ever in the position of "oh shit, got nothing to do," you can't even ask your friends to hang out because they're all busy. And for my friends reading this, it's not meant to be a slap in the face. I know that asking a friend to hang out on a Wednesday (especially one that's two weeks before finals) is like asking a mother of newborn twins to go out to the bar with me. Just not happening. It's just one of those unfortunate things about life.

So how did I deal with this Wednesday? Well, it was my inner hipster, actually, that decided to emerge today and was all like, "Hey, Emily, you should go to Barnes and Noble and just look at books." So you know what? That's what I did. On the way I decided to stop at Starbucks, because an outing where you are indulging your inner hipster isn't complete without overpriced coffee.

I feel the need to mention the value of self image. Because the whole time I was out, I felt like this:

but I looked more like this:

(you know, that "oh shit, finals are coming" glow)

I've deduced that in this phase of my early life crisis, I need to get some cool fake hipstery glasses.

Anyways, back to Starbucks. When I went inside, and took my place in the line that was literally to
the front door (as in, my butt was basically touching the door), I noticed a familiar face in front of me. It was the astronomy professor. I've never had a class with this guy, but I have such a fondness for him, and I'll be honest when I say that it all stems from the fact that he wears suspenders and looks like Santa Claus. It's awesome. So I'm sitting here, really wanting to talk to him, because I just feel like professors would just have such interesting things to say outside of a lecture hall, and while waiting for our drinks, I eventually tackled the social anxiety long enough to spark up a conversation. It subsequently died within sixty seconds of beginning, (probably because I thought I heard him say "I rule the planetarium" instead of "I run the planetarium" and I started laughing) but hey, whatever. I get points for trying. When I have a green tea frappe in my hand and a hipster mentality, I don't give a shit what anyone thinks of me.

Do you ever have that feeling when you walk into a place and you feel as though the only thing that would make the place better are like, flying unicorns? That's how I feel whenever I walk into a Barnes and Noble. If all of my dreams were to come true, they would do so in a Barnes and Noble. I don't think people understand is that there were so many great men and women who poured their hearts and souls into their books, and when you walk into a bookstore, you're walking into a room full of souls. It's like an art museum, only you can admire the art, pick it up, admire it some more, admire it in a big comfy chair, and then buy it and take it home with you to admire whenever you please.

Outcome of my hipster adventure: I left with Kurt Vonnegut's "Cat's Cradle" and Jack Kerouac's "On the Road," with a green tea frappe in my belly. Life is good.