Sick

I woke up feeling really tired, achy, and with my nose running like a faucet, not to mention swollen eyes.

On top of that, navel-gazing is extremely tiring. It can wear a person out! 😀

I’m taking today off from work. I feel really crappy, a little cranky, and a little muddled in the head.

Peace out, yo.

The Psychology of Beauty

Note: I’m no psychologist, just an arm-chair speculator.

What is beauty? My muddled thoughts and words from my previous entry on body image is forcing me to try to articulate this more clearly. My guess is that in the distant past, when scrabbling for food and genetic survival, standards of beauty were probably strictly tied to health and physical dominance.

I’m sure that research into various different aspects of current day conceptions of beauty, we could find a reason to justify each aspect. I recently read an article about how blond hair came about and how we might presume it came into desireability, instead of being seen as an odd mutation, as well as why light skin was important in the nordic regions (having to do with Vitamin D production). I don’t know why the long necks of the long-necked tribe which I don’t know the name of were valued as beautiful, but I’m sure there were logical reasons behind that as well. I’m sure the underlying initial reason people with glasses are teased because it’s seen as a deformity, a physical problem.

So I don’t dispute that we are genetically and socially conditioned to look for outwardly physical signs of health. It can be a strong indicator in most segments of the population.

However, when someone feels “ugly” or when someone looks upon someone else as “ugly” or “undesireable”, my guess is not that the first and foremost thought is, “Oh my goodness, this person is SO unhealthy.” The person is more likely thinking, “This person doesn’t look good to me.” Period.

I think health is a huge public and personal concern. But I also think that’s NOT what most people are thinking of when they judge each other and themselves on their physical appearance. I firmly believe that many times people wield it as an excuse & weapon to judge someone else to find the judged lacking. Not that everyone does this — no generalization can cover the entire range of the human experience — but my personal interactions and my accumulated second-hand knowledge of the world confirms this to be true (not that I’m not willing to accept evidence to the contrary).

Worse is when people come to conclusions about someone’s lifestyle based on appearance. Looking at someone who is, say, 50 pounds overweight, people feel comfortable making non-health-related value judgments about the person: he/she is lazy, he/she doesn’t care about him/herself, he/she should be ashamed, he/she should stop overeating, etc.

I hate that. How do we know anything about them? Maybe that person has already lost 20 pounds of excess weight and have been steadily exercising and eating better to improve themselves. Maybe they’ve always been super-healthy and had a really bad injury that’s kept them off their feet for a while and they are struggling to find something that works. Maybe they are really feeling good about their progress but strangers’ looks of derision makes them feel like it was all pointless. Or maybe they are trying to work their way out of a lifetime of bad habits and bad self-esteem, learning to love themselves so they can start confidently, happily start making good long-term habits.

I am not saying that’s how it is for everyone. But I don’t know what’s going on with the particular person, do I? I only know that for the last several years, all I did was sit on my ass and watch TV. I was and am lazy. But my appearance didn’t cause people to harshly judge my character despite the actuality that I was/am a lazy sloth. So I got to have an unfair advantage. Not to say that I’m super-skinny or appear uber-fit; I don’t. But I fall firmly in the range of BMI that they say makes a person healthy, despite having no available stats for my blood pressure, cholesterol level, or ability to sustain prolonged activities. I know the BMI is useful as a general guideline because there is a correlation between weight/size and health, but I am merely saying it’s just one indicator, one I could use to pretend I was living a healthy lifestyle.

Anyway, I’m veering sharply into health again, when I’m honestly trying to discuss beauty.

To me, it’s all beautiful. I remember when I was 5 years old, looking at my grandma’s paper-thin, wrinkly skin and her sagging arms and breasts, and mostly her love for me in her eyes and thinking, “She is so beautiful.” My mom has always fluctuated in her weight, from very slim to pretty rotund to slim again and back, and she’s always been beautiful to me. I’ve had exes who were shorter than me and and exes who were pushing 300 lbs. They were all beautiful to me. Yes, the ex who was close to 300 lbs was actually starting to show health problems, and we started to deal with that, but he never stopped being beautiful to me. Neither did the ex who most women would have dismissed as being too short (at 5’2″ he was definitely a shorty).

So many things are not considered beautiful. But honestly, can we all only be/date/marry/procreate with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie? Is everyone else ugly?

I find my friends to be beautiful: those who think their cheekbones are weird, those who think they are too fat/skinny, those who wish their boobs were smaller/bigger, those who have long torsos, those who have short torsos, those with practically no eyelashes, those who think their foreheads are too big, those who think their heads are too small/round/big/whatever, etc. Guess which ones apply to me. 😀

People all want what they don’t have. I dearly want my friends’ beautiful lush lashes and bigger boobs. Maybe my friends want my straight hair or relative slimness. I feel paranoid about my weird forehead and wish I had a neat widow’s peak. Maybe no one else sees it and wishes they had my relative inability to sunburn under most conditions. I wish I looked more my age, maybe someone else my age wishes they looked younger like me. I really wish that I had dimples (one of the cutest traits anyone can have, in my opinion), but maybe someone else would trade my lack of freckles for that.

I wish for all those things, but only in passing. I am who I am.

It’s about really, honestly knowing your good traits and bad traits and appreciating your good traits and working on the bad traits that can be changed. It’s not about kicking yourself over everything and anything you are not or things you can never change. It’s about loving yourself so that you can give yourself the confidence to know you can be better (in all ways, not just physical) and remembering all the positives so that you don’t drown in a pool of despair when you face a new hurdle. I’m not saying we should wave our hands around and make all the bad disappear, but we can gather our strengths around us to provide momentum to tackle the next big task. Ignoring the good in you is just as bad as ignoring the bad in you. I recommend neither.

Being human, I admit that a part of why I started to work out was that I started to feel unattractive. I even lied to myself and told myself it had to do with health — and honestly, it was an issue because gaining something like 10 pounds in 2 months is quite alarming for anyone — but mostly, it was vanity. It really was. I wasn’t thinking, “What does this mean for my health?” but rather, “I am starting to feel paranoid about how I look.” I know it’s stupid, but we all do this to ourselves. Even as I look upon my friends and family and see only beauty, even with all my self-confidence, I am my harshest critic. To myself that is. I often portray an impenetrably confident persona because I think that’s how I *should* be, so I try to be that way. Also, I felt that my friends would, no, *should* poo-poo it if I admitted my efforts were primarily to look better, so I pretended looking better was merely a side benefit. Ha!

Looking better *does* boost the confidence to try harder to be more healthy, at least for me. For me, it confirms that confidence in yourself helps to make more positive changes. Derision and scorn do nothing but make people feel isolated and unliked. I save derision and scorn for things like criminal acts, not people’s appearances.

ETA: After reading the comments, it appears I save some derision for really attractive celebrities wearing ugly clothes. But it feels like good-natured laughter and not actual derision. But I am leaving myself space to see if I’m just wrong.

Arg

For someone who is obsessed with communication issues, I sure seem to have screwed that one up.

I’m just obsessed with it because I have to be since I’m so bad at it.

YMCA ∩ Louvre

What could the YMCA and the Louvre have in common, you may ask? Nekkid ladeez. Lots of them.

It’s funny; I’ve always had a good body image and self-confidence (which I’ve gone on and on and on about *snore*), but it’s really reached a new level of self-comfort after having seen so many nude depictions of the human form at the Louvre and equally many naked women of all ages/colors/sizes/shapes in the Y locker rooms. There is such a variety of shapes that the more and more I was exposed (no pun intended) to them (the art and the old women at the Y), the more and more I internalized that it was ridiculous to point to one and say, “Ah, there, that’s the ideal that we should all strive for.”

All the differences and variety just seem so natural, not something that should be the source of shame for anyone. All the nudes in the paintings and statues, all the depictions of Venus or Aphrodite, all of them have what by L.A. standards would be big arms and big bellies. But after gazing upon them for so long, I can see the beauty and naturalness of those parts. The bodies were in fact idealized for their times, but in a different way than today. When I see magazine covers, the most famous women seem so unnatural: pulled and stretched and tightened and fake-tanned to an alarming degree. Where is the softness, the pleasing round curves?

This doesn’t mean that I don’t believe the stats for the U.S. being one of the most unhealthiest and overweight countries of the world; I do believe it. This is just… an increased sense of acceptance of what is actually within the normal range.

30

This is the year that many of my friends and I turn thirty years old. I have no trepidations about it. I fully expect that I’ll be my hottest *cough* at age 35. 😀 I know that supposedly I will be anxious and worried about what this means for me as the day draws closer, but I don’t feel anything yet.

And yet, for some reason, I thought to myself that I have about a month to decide on something I’d like to do before I turn thirty (which would give me just under another month to actually do it). I started to google around for other people’s lists of things to do before turning 30, but you know what? I think I will write down a list of things that I’m proud that I’ve already done (most of them since turning 20).

Warning: Self-congratulatory pats coming up. 😀

• Put myself through school entirely on my own.
• Bought my mom that two-story house I told her I would when I was in the fourth grade.
• Wrote two [bad] novels.
• Fell in love with a great man and worked on making things work.
• Moved out to another coast on my own and overcame my biggest fear of making friends/interacting with strangers.
• Learned to really appreciate true friendship, the kind that lasts over distance and time, and even the fact that we’ve never met face-to-face.
• Learned that I don’t always have to be strong.
• Learned that I’m not always right and it’s ok.
• Lost weight gained from new job.
• Travelled (Canada :D, Vietnam, Korea, England, France).
• Joined a gym.
• Achieved financial stability and began savings & retirement plans.
• Became an aunt twice over.
• Held my little infant brother and tried to be a good [absentee] sister to him as he grew up.
• Learned to appreciate my older siblings.
• Learned to understand somewhat the depth of my mother’s unconditional love.
• Made a difference in my friends’ lives.

Of course there’s more. But it’s late. And these things? It’s not just a list. They really mean a lot to me. I never thought, when I was a kid, that I’d do these things. I remember being depressed and feeling like there wasn’t a lot I can hope to achieve, not knowing how to make things be different. But here I am. Things are different.

And I am happy.

Untitled mish-mash

• Seppo woke up early (he had to take his mom to the airport) and made me a full breakfast this morning. Schweet!
• I think more than 50% of my close friends are in interracial or interethnic (? proper term? no?) relationships. Whoa!
• My hair looks better when it’s parted somewhere other than its natural part. Yawn.
• I took a retirement planning seminar today at work and have been reading a debt management book recently, and think I need to learn more and start changing my strategies. Also yawn (but suppressed, like you are sitting in the front of a class or in a meeting with management).

"It’s ok."

People say, “It’s ok,” a lot as a response to someone’s apology. Sometimes, there is nothing behind the statement. It’s clear, it’s on the surface, and it’s really ok. Sometimes, a person is being passive-aggressive, and things are not ok, but they want the other person to grovel.

I’m not interested in those to scenarios. I’m more interested in a third scenario. Consider this:

Person A is upset that Person B was late [for an important date!]/forgot a promise/let Person A down in some way. Person B feels something in the range of mildly apologetic to completely distraught over the issue and apologizes to Person A. Person A, while upset, is a compassionate/empathetic friend and can see that Person B feels bad. Person A doesn’t want Person B to feel bad over the issue and, being fully satisfied that Person B brought it up and apologized, tells Person B, “It’s ok.”

This is the standard operating procedure for most people I know. On the surface of things, it seems like a nice way to deal with things, especially among friends. However, I’ve learned that this can be quite a bad way to deal with things.

If you are Person A, and in your haste to reassure your friend Person B that they shouldn’t feel bad, you always tell them that it’s ok, then Person B can’t accumulate a body of knowledge about which commitments to you you prioritize and which ones really are things you simply don’t care two figs about. Honestly, I could not care two figs, or even 10 figs (figs: the universal currency of caring), if you are 5 minutes late to meet me. But I know it is important for some people. And with some other peoeple, I can’t tell if it’s important to them because of the standard, “It’s ok,” response. I do care when someone is 30 minutes late and I had told them I had something else I needed to do right afterwards. Note: There is an extra problematic element when, in my desire to keep the other person from feeling bad, I don’t tell them that I have a bunch of things I wanted to do that day. Don’t be like that.

On the most basic level, Seppo and I communicate in completely and utterly different ways, both with many built-in pros and cons of their own. However, in order to work as a couple and as friends, we’ve had to build some severely impressive communication bridges — bridges that now help me to communicate more effectively with other people in my life. I will contend the same is true for him, regardless of what he has to say about the matter. ;p Heh.

Anyway, one of those things we learned is how to say — instead of “It’s ok” — “It was really inconvenient/stressful/upsetting that you did XYZ, but I am really glad and grateful that you brought it up and let me know that you regret it. And because you realized that it was important to me, it really means a lot to me and it’s ok… As long as this never happens again ,which would force me to stab you through the eye with my pencil!”

Ok, maybe not that part.

In summary, rather than:

• Smoothing over the other person’s upset feelings

which does not reward or inform the friend, you should:

• Express why it upset you (which informs the friend)
• Express gratitude that they brought it up (which rewards the friend)
• Let go of the anger (which rewards the friendship)

Optionally, you can also make a joke. I don’t think either of us does it on purpose, but Seppo and I come out of most of our fights/arguments, even the worst kind, having laughed a couple of times throughout the discussion. It’s great and reminds you that you are not adversaries. We do crack comments like the one above, with the eye-stabbing pencil. 😀 It says that it’s high on your priority ladder, but that you are truly willing to move on.

Of course, it’s not recommended with people who would get severely pissed off if you joked during a serious moment… 😀

Just say no to “It’s ok,” unless you really, honestly, truly mean it and it did not even remotely upset or affect you at all. It doesn’t help you and it doesn’t help your friend. It’s such a reflexive action for most people I know to try to keep other people from feeling bad. Between people who communicate with the exact same nuances, it can be ok (heh), but since most of the world doesn’t operate exactly the same way as you, it’s better to say the difficult words.

By the way, I am not endorsing freaking out on a friend and not caring at all that they are feeling bad and apologetic. 😀 Be kind, be caring, but let them know the truth. You can’t learn and grow if everything is swept under the rug.

Memory

I read some tips on improving memory on Real Simple via LifeHacker.

I think I do most of these things already, but I find more and more that lately, I can’t recall people’s names, and more and more often, things are “on the tip of my tongue”, whether they are movie lines or coworkers’ names or just random words I want to use. It kind of makes me worry.

Seppo would say that it’s time for me to start playing Brain Age.

Word

I have yet another new word to introduce to you. I can feel the excitement in the air. Or maybe that’s just smog. It feels similar.

I was composing an email to my project manager to inquire about the location of the latest version of our project schedule, when I managed to make a typo, giving birth to this word. *tries not to imagine giving birth*

scheduel: (v) To push and shove and manipulate to get the project milestones and deadlines to fall where you want them to. Often occurs between marketing and R&D as a result of differing priorities. Very similar in usage to “schedule” but with some inherent combativeness. “We have been schedueling this multi-team, multi-year project for so long now that I am tired of the bickering and may just give in.” “We’ve successfully scheduelled the milestones we wanted! Go team! Now I need a nap.”

Word.

Honeymoon: Day Five in London

For some insane reason, Seppo woke up at 5am on Friday, April 14, 2006. Apparently, he had upsetting dreams about the house and couldn’t fall back asleep. He watched “Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle” on the PSP and thought about the house and Afterburner. I don’t know; ask him.

A leisurely four and a half hours later, I woke up and joined Seppo in the land of the living. We headed out to easyInternetcafe at Bond Street again, and sadly realized that the afternoon tea at Fornum & Mason that we tried to book via TopTable did not go through as a result of F&M celebrating Good Friday.

We headed over to Buckingham Palace, which, after all the beautiful buildings we had seen, was frankly quite disappointing.

Even more disappointing was the fact that there would be no changing of the guards due to it being Good Friday. Oh well.

We roamed around and found some cheap Indian food nearby. We figured having Indian food in England should be an interesting experience, as it is far more ingrained in British cuisine & culture than it is in ours. However, our meal at Cafe Mumbai was pretty unimpressive. It was just like having Indian food in the Bay Area. But we readily admit that we did not go to some really upscale, well-known place. We figured we wanted to see what the normal people get. Plus, we were hoarding our pounds like nobody’s business.

We came back to the hotel after lunch to take a nap, since Seppo was exhausted from his early morning non-sleep.

After getting up around 5pm, we went to Convent Garden and walked to Rock & Sole Plaice, supposedly the oldest fish & chips shop still open or something, to grab dinner.

I have to say that the Cornish Pasty & chips I had were fantastic. Seppo had the cod & chips and it was flaky, golden brown, and delicious. Sure, we were left with a slightly queasy feeling after all the fried food, but it was still delicious.

We walked over to Leicester Square from there, and I have to say that the area between the places was really fun & hip. It was bustling & humming with little shops and street vendors and tons of restaurants. We wished we had come to this area sooner on our trip. Oh well.

We walked back to Leicester Square from there, and sat on a bench and people-watched.

It was brimming with people. We happened to sit by three rowdy drunken Eastern Europeans who got fussy with the bobbies (three of them) regarding their illegal public drinking. The bobbies started out nice and cordial, smiling as they asked the three people to put away their open drinks, but for some reason, they didn’t want to cooperate, so the bobbies started to get tough. Hee. We were pretty fascinated with the idiocy of the drunkards but we vaguely worried that we’d accidentally get pulled into the bobby-beatdown that we were sure was going to ensue at any moment. We turned out to be wrong though, must to my relief and disappointment. Seppo observed randomly that the woman bobby had a smaller hat. Ok.

After some unknown amount of time of hanging around (I think we spent several hours there, but I am not sure), we decided to head back to the hotel. On the way back, we stopped by the corner store to grab some chocolate junk food. 😀