Ladies Who Sweat

YOU GUYS. I think this Jezebel writer is my BFF soulmate. SHE WROTE A POST ALL ABOUT SWEATING! PROFUSE SWEATING!

(Apparently I need someone to write a post about PROFUSE CAPS LOCKS).

Anyway. I sweat a lot and it's just REALLY nice to see someone else sharing that they do too.

That's all.

Weekend Recap

It’s been some time since I’ve posted any extensive rambling recaps of my inconsequential life so why don’t I get you all up to speed...

Essentially all my thoughts/spare time of late have been directed towards MOVING because yes, we roommates have moved... and have acquired a 4th roommate, who is officially Roomie #3 but I shall refer to her henceforth as Becca because that is her name. Yes, our crazy life of 20-somethings with tanorexia and a passion for Friday Night Lights has just taken on another duckling and we couldn’t be happier. And our new place is a serious upgrade from the last. No pool, however. (Pool floats, I shall miss thee). But the wet bar and sun deck make up for it, as well as the proximity to so many DELISH bars and restaurants.

Moving is not fun. Okay, that’s a no-brainer, but seriously... wow. Saturday was an epic day of U-Hauls, kind friends offering their muscle, lots of sweating, exhaustion, sheer amazement at how much crap we’ve acquired, and the penultimate satisfaction of somehow doing it all in a day. Sure, by Saturday night I was a zombie, walking around Whole Foods realizing I hadn’t eaten since a bagel at 7:15am but unsure of what cuisine could ease the total body exhaustion.

Yesterday was much better—the morning started off with the Farmer’s Market, coffee on the deck and lots of visits from friends. The day didn’t end so well with yet another earthquake, and this time it was a biggie, causing me to freak out, practically to the point of tears, then take some anti-anxiety medicine and drop into a dreamless slumber (thank God). Worth noting: during the earthquake Adubs ran to protect the fish, Ashleigh grabbed the TV, while Becca and I stood facing each other under the doorway and poor Becca had to witness my freak out firsthand. Per usual, I had thoughts of “Oh my God, this is it, this is the big one, I am going to die.” But it passed, everyone was unharmed, including the TV and Snoopy/Blue (the fish). I went to bed immediately afterwards because I couldn’t handle it, and DiTonto adorably woke up in the middle of the night thinking there was another quake, checked on me and realized if I was asleep and not freaking out she was imagining it and went back to bed. What a lovely roommate family we have! (Although I’ve been informed I have to hold her hand in the water because her phobia is, yep: sharks. That's okay though, I love the ocean and find sharks FASCINATING).

In other news I had a bowl of rice for lunch. I wish I was kidding. But see, we got back most of our security deposit from our old apartment, so I got excited and saw a special on Amazon to purchase the first three seasons of Bones for a ridiculously discounted price so I did that but then I realized that was probably not a smart impulse buy and am relegated to eating whatever food I already have in the office all week. Look for yogurt, oatmeal and fake meat products to be a regular part of my diet over the next few days...

More later, especially regarding the Citizen’s Arrest and the Chapstick Bandits, but for now I should get back to that “work” stuff I do sometimes.

Jingle Bells

I'm wearing a pair of DiTonto's boots today that sound like I've got little bells ringing on my feet from a mile away. They're sort of combat/horse riding boots and I inadvertantly look like I am about to go quail hunting (wearing a cropped trench coat this morning probably didn't diminish that look either). At the moment, I kind of wish I was quail hunting. Not that I want to go kill some animals or anything, but I don't know... shooting a gun kind of interests me and I'm sweating a bit right now because I am drinking a massive cup of tea, and the weather is cold(ish) and gray outside which makes me just want to be out in the dreariness and pretend I am in London shooting guns... or something.

Yes, Please, Try to FIGHT ME

If you click on my previous post "I am not the same nationality as these monsters" you'll see the following comment.

First of all, who knew Al Jazeera had an Ohio affiliate?!?

Secondly, I think it is increbibly ignorant to categorize all Republicans as extreme racist, Christians. The took a microcosm of the Republican party and our exploiting the words of these blatantly prejudice people.

Let us not forget that a large portion of the Republican party is upperclass with high-level education.

By sharing this video, you are perpetuating the ignorance and bias.

Look, I was not categorizing all Republicans as extreme racist Christians. I never wrote that, I never said it, and I never even insinuated it. I am not perpetuating ignorance or bias--I am merely trying to expose it. All I said was that if I were a Republican or someone voting for McCain, I would be embarrassed--because these are the people who, like you, support that platform and it's not a group of people I would want to be associated with. Please re-read that very simple sentence.

In fact, this goes both ways, for example, as a Democrat voting for Obama I feel pretty embarrased after listening to a clip from the Howard Stern Show, during which voters in Harlem were asked why they were voting for Obama (as there is a claim that many black voters support him only because he is black), and the interviewer pretended that all of McCain's platform's were Obama's and these voters didn't know the difference. More than one talked about how they felt strongly for Obama because he was "pro-life and going to put more troops in Iraq." (Check out the clip here.) It's embarrassing.

My point with all these, is that daily I am shocked by the ignorance of so many in this country, be it black, white, or purple, Democrat, Repbulican, Libertarian. This sort of thing makes me ashamed to be an American--it's guilt by association. It's upsetting and unsettling--and I think as Americans we need to strive harder to teach those who need it. So to the "Anonymous" reader who wanted to remind me "that a large portion of the Republican party is upperclass with high-level education," why don't you spread that education to those who need it most? To your fellow Americans from all sides of the coin.

Secondly, a word to the wise (and to friends of mine who read the blog/comment) my stat counter allows me to see who is reading this and where--so while you've commented anonymously I can look at what time you posted and connect it to the time you looked at the blog(a location and IP address, which usually includes whatever business you work at). Just for the future when you choose to rant--you might want to take a little more time reading and thinking before you are the one perpetuating any misconceptions.

And finally, to quote SNL, Really? REALLY? Oh my God, are you serious? This is not the G-D New York Times people. This is the most ridiculous inconsequential blog ever, which has taken a slight political turn because we are 18 days away from the election and I can't help it, I just can't. Let me return now to the many more profound issues of sweating, Celine Dion, orthodontics, nostalgia for bad 80s television, and fickle obsessions with water coolers, cleanses, and hot tamales.

UGH. SERIOUSLY. Now I am going to pop out my Invisalign, chomp down on an apple, and just use all this as fuel to my fire when I am canvassing in Pahrump, Nevada tomorrow.

Good night and good luck.

ALSO, whatever jackass tried to advertise floss when commenting on "And now for something completely different," THANKS, I'M GOOD.

The Reason I Slept on the Sofa Last Night

Somehow I ended up with the bedroom in our apartment that is a solid 10-15 degrees hotter than the other rooms. So when it's already in the 90s outside, you can find me curled up on the couch. (Still sweating, obv).

Reminds me of that week junior year of college I slept on a yoga mat on my bedroom floor. But I think that was because I just couldn't fall asleep in my bed for a week or something. Much less logical. Clearly.

Would you rather...?

Saturday night we turned "Would you rather...?" into a lovely little drinking game. My question (fueled by temporary temperature discomfort), was

"If you were going to spend an eternity in hell, would you rather it be extremely hot or extremely cold?"

Fun, right?

Obviously, I would rather be cold 100 times over. I hate being hot. (Odd then that I moved to Los Angeles, right?) A lot of that is because of my issues with sweating. But really--I just love the cold! I do. Sad thing will be when I get to Maine over Christmas and I am such a pussy because the only "cold" I will know is around 55 degrees--what was usually convertible weather in Maine. Good times.

Anyway, I'll leave you with another question:

Would you rather have consistently chapped lips or a consistently runny nose?

That's a tough one for me. I already seem to be dependent on Aquaphor. To be honest, my definition of hell might actually be a place that lacks chapstick. As my psychopathic former boss used to drill into me, "It's the little things that get you."

And now for a completely unrelated (?) and random YouTube clip.



I have no idea.

Organizing My Life

And the great car saga has ended! I guess the earthquake inspired me to really take charge because I went to bed last night the proud new owner of a 2009 Toyota Matrix. I wasn’t even considering this car but saw it in the process to find the right Prius... the hook, line and sinker for me was that it’s marketed almost exclusively to guys. I’m not really sure why, but I guess that made it a lot more appealing. Maybe it’s because I like to live out of my car... seriously, when I had to get everything out of my totaled CRV I had a tent, ski poles, a field hockey stick, several towels, a beach chair, a tennis racket, sleeping bag, endless amounts of CDs, water bottles, maps, a Red Sox hat, and the book Lyrics by Sting (don’t ask). Also, a car that is for dudes just seems to have a lot of features I like.

Anyway, all has been resolved except for the massive piles of paperwork that I am struggling to finish.

So besides unexpected earthquakes, it looks as though things are getting back on track and maybe I’ll start posting fewer “Dear Diary, OMG I want a new car LIKE now” type posts and a few more “I think it’s disgusting that People magazine got the Brangelina twin baby pics for a reported $15 million (vomit)” posts. It’s been a while since I’ve had any exciting random celebrity sightings to report. That was one nice thing about the old job—I am no longer on the route that takes me to the Starbucks preferred by Harrison Ford and others. Oh and I am no longer working out with Fabio either. He doesn’t go as far west as the Santa Monica Equinox, apparently.

Oh and I had my first awkward return to work where I was excessively sweating thanks to my lunchtime walk experience. It was an uncomfortable elevator ride.

Hotter Than Hell

New York. Yes, New York is hotter than hell. Manhattan specifically. Since around 5 pm EST yesterday (Monday) I've been suffering the scorching, heavy, and especially sweaty temperatures and humidity levels of the lovely New York City. Up until my arrival here I was ready to move back East. Well sure, who wouldn't want to vacation on Martha's Vineyard for the rest of their life? Then we got back to the city, and I was so perfectly reminded of a big reason as to why I left in the first place (flashbacks to running around here last August, sweating problem on overdrive, hot, sticky, sick of dealing with smelly public transportation and ready to drive to LA where all my hopes and dreams would come true).

And here I am, a little under a year later (a year being the start of my cross country road trip), certainly missing the East Coast, and NYC, but ever so excited to return home to LA.

A special thank you to Roomie #1, aka Ashleigh DiTonto, for her lovely blog posts. They were less of inspired writing as they were me sending her text messages and emails in which I used phrases such as "I demand you blog!" and "I know you are hooked, keep going!" But really I think she did quite a lovely job, staying in the tone of Jaw Wired Shut and adding her own flavor. Hopefully I will get her to add posts here and there from now on. Actually, anyone is more than welcome to write on this bad boy. (Anyone I deem worthy, aka anyone with a decent sense of humor, a high capacity for self-depreciation, and certainly someone self aware enough to recognize the high narcissistic levels of this entire enterprise).

What else is new besides feeding my sweating problem in New York and love for polo shirts and pearls on MV... I've been forced to (and against my will, can I add) shop quite extensively for my new job. Now this might surprise you... you might expect that I would be an avid shopper, harboring a deep love for all things material. Well, friends, this is NOT the case. I may love J. Crew and I may have an excessive wardrobe, but the actual process of acquiring said clothes is, in my humble opinion, NOT FUN. Especially not in 90 degree weather with humidity circa 100%. Especially when the clothes being shopped for are not fun exciting leisure clothes (in my case sweat pants and big tees) but are clothes for WORK. For your CAREER. For your PROFESSION. I am proud to say I still do not own a suit, although I am one step closer because I got a nice suit jacket. I know it might seem odd, or contrary not to own the matching pants, but I refuse until absolutely necessary. I prefer to mix and match anyways. So yes, it would seem that my time in New York has been spent shopping and sweating, and neither has been all that enjoyable.

I will say, it is wonderful to have spent some quality time back home on the East Coast and with my family. It's been a nice little recharging of the batteries but I'm fully charged now, starting to sweat, and ready for a return trip to my new home. And, as it's hotter than hell here, I can fully appreciate those 0% humidity levels Santa Monica has to offer. New Yorkers, be jealous. And then come visit.

New York Nostalgia

I'm having some serious New York nostalgia right now (this from the girl who spent her last three days in that city bemoaning the humidity, smells, and goddamn annoying public transportation) because I read this New York Times article announcing the closing of Florent, one of my all time favorite New York City restaurants and a true New York establishment. (Those of you in New York should go for brunch. They put cinnamon in the coffee and their bacon crisping is an art form--and it's open 24 hours).

It's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, because while living in New York, I never experienced the sharp pangs of missing a place you love until moving here to LA. But do I love New York? I don't know if I would say that... I definitely miss it and I certainly love specific things about the city, and especially the time I've spent with my friends there. At this point in my life it's not the city for me however, and even when I think about the staples I miss (and may forever, if more places like Florent close down) I know that it wouldn't be the right place for me right now.

It's funny how that works--how certain geographical locations are perfectly suited to match our mental state at various points in our lives. It makes me wonder where I'll be five years from now, or even ten. Yesterday I had my physical and I was talking to the doctor about the volatile past few years. She asked me if I finally felt settled here. I imagine that I do, but in all honestly I think I'll end up back on the East Coast. After telling the doctor this she gave me a look and said, "Five years from now and you'll realize you just can't take the weather anywhere else." We'll see... (I reminded her of my sweating issues and the heat in the summer months, and she noted that my thyroid would be checked in the blood work. Maybe there's a medical explanation for the perspiration? Probably not, but I guess I'll know in a week.)

To return to where I started, Florent's closing is a huge bummer. I don't think I'll be making a trip back to the city to get to eat there one last time (again, all you New Yorkers--go!) so it's funny to think that I now understand the whimsical nostalgia so many New Yorkers share when ruminating on the ever-changing city.

Some More Things I Have to Say About Sweating

You may recall this post, back from December where I waxed poetic about my sweating problem. Or maybe you didn't but couldn't help notice the constant references to sweating throughout the blog.

Well, yes, it's true, I am a bit of a sweater. It's strange, my condition, in that I will suddenly find myself sweating for no apparent reason. Like now, for example. I am just sitting at my desk, in our temperature moderated office, sweating away. I might draw the conclusion that this is because of my current bout of illness, but the thing is, even if I weren't sick I would probably still be sweating. It's uncomfortable. And awkward. Especially around the hair line. Then it's noticeable.

Actually, one thing I've noticed about sweating in LA is that people here don't seem to be big sweaters. Even in the gym! For me, the gym is the place where not only is it acceptable to sweat, but it's kind of badass when I get good and sweaty after a few miles on the treadmill. But LA chicks at the gym, all in their perfect Lulu Lemon matching spandex, and usually on the elliptical machine (lame), just don't seem to sweat as much. I relish sweating during a good work out... it's cleansing and gratifying in a way. What is the deal with these LA chicks and the non-sweating? Apparently if you sweat it means you are in good shape, or healthy or something. So, hah! I am the picture of good health (just don't ask my doctor).

Oh wow all this thinking about sweating isn't helping... it seems to be exacerbating the situation. And now I've officially told you more than you could possibly want to know about me. Please excuse me while I just take a moment to dab a kleenex on my hairline.

Some Things I Have to Say About Sweating

I am a sweater. And I am not talk about that lovely article of clothing everybody wears this time of year. (I particularly enjoy this one in "heather graphite" which is just a fancy way of saying gray.) No, I am talking about the fact that I am one of those people with a serious problem with perspiration. Thing is, I am fully aware of this fact, and I am not going to pretend that it isn't an issue. I am going to own my sweating problem.

My sweating problem makes me wonder... Why do I seem to sweat so much? When I sleep, when I am driving in my car, after I've showered and am getting ready for the day/a night out/going to bed (when I will sweat again), and definitely during any sort of athletic activity (duh)... really, it doesn't take a lot for me to sweat. The perspiration seems to be heightened during periods of stress or anxiety--which is natural I imagine, but even when I think I am totally calm and on top of my game--nope, still sweating.

For example, yesterday I had a very important job interview that I was a bit nervous for. But during the interview I felt great--things went fantastically and I was feeling totally calm and collected and psyched when on the spot my interviewers told me they wanted me to come back for round two. And I am thinking of how much ass I am kicking and then comes that crucial point in the interview where you shake each other's hands, say thanks and let's be in touch and then BAM! I noticed that during the entire process I had been sweating profusely and was rocking some serious pit stains. Then everything is just suddenly so awkward when you look like you're doing a bad T-Rex impression with a weak handshake.

Anyways, sweating sucks. I know others would agree. When it comes down to it, I think the answer to that whole "why do I sweat" question is just due to genetics. I am predisposed to sweating. My dad told me a couple of years ago that maybe in losing some weight I would sweat less (thanks, Dad, you're lucky I don't have an eating disorder), but the thing is, I can think of 3 good friends (you know who you are) who are all really skinny and are real big sweaters. So I think it just is the way it is. An unsatisfying conclusion, but that's what prescription-strength deodorant is for.

So for all the other sweaters out there, this is for you. (Article courtesy the New York Times, and a fellow perspiration-challenged friend who shall remain anonymous.)