Boobs are unfair and Netflix SUX!

Thanks to my good buddy, el Single Gal, for sharing with me a bit of wisdom from MSNBC. Boobs jiggle a distance of up to eight inches during exercise and traditional sport bras don't help. Also noteworthy, boobs don't just move up and down, but also side to side and in and out. That last part makes me feel a little sick.

The first thing I thought when I heard this was, "This warrants a flippin newsflash? I could have told you this when I was 15."

My second thought was, "Who is the perv who designed this study? I bet he was all, 'Lets attached this device to your boobie and then make you run around! Fun!'" Then I read further to see that this study was conducted by a woman. Joanna Scurr, a biomechanics professor at the University of Portsmouth in England, to be exact. So at least I know it was a sister, with my best (or should I say breast) interests at heart.

What I found most interesting was that Ms. Scurr says a dual cup bra is more effective for stopping breast movement than a traditional sports bra which simply compresses the breasts. I did not know that!

Now Scurr-y is working with clothing manufacturers to develop the bra of the future. As an absolute hater of sports that require equipment I have to pay for, and someone with large breasts which often get in the way of my desire to jog or jump up and down, this at once excites and annoys me. However, I look forward to what science produces. Because what I paid $35 for at Modell Sports just ain't cuttin it.

Finally, I don't know if you, like me, fell for the new Netflix commercial that tells you you can instantly download movies onto your PC and rants about "5 movies for $5!"

I thought (mistakenly) that this meant I could go online and pony up $5, and download 5 movies. I figured they'd be streaming and I wouldn't be able to keep the files but whatever, that's fine. But no, that's not even close. You have to sign up for one of their plans and then you have a limited number of hours allotted to you to watch online movies, and there are a limited number of movies available online.

Dude...that's not what I want. I hate Netflix. They're evil because the service they provide is so good, but honestly, so unnecessary.

One of the best songs ever. (I'm gonna kill you)

Super Sensitive to Rejection? So is everyone else...

Today I read Psychology Today for this first time. Particularly this article.

The premise of the article is that we are genetically programmed to hate rejection because back in the old days, people relied on a very close knit group of others for survival. So if your group started to hate you, you'd die pretty quickly. So when you got rejected, your brain would make you feel physical pain, which would kick in your "love me now" obsessive craziness, and you'd win their hearts back.

Today, when we meet new people all the time and are constantly being thrown into new situations, our little psyches just can't handle all the change. Or all the inevitable rejection. And so we freak out about being rejected by everyone...which is pointless (because we're not going to DIE if some dude doesn't call us back) and unhealthy.

Stats like, "Major depression, a condition tightly linked to rejection sensitivity, has been on the rise among all age groups except the elderly for well over a decade," simply made me sad. Does that mean I am a statistic? Majorly depressed?

Anyways, what the article said was all kinds of things feed into our rejection-sensitivity beyond our hard wiring. Like parents who over-praise, parents who rejected their children's need for attention, and basically parents. And some other stuff too. Like trauma.

And so, we're all really depressed, and really sensitive, and then someone calls us at 6:30 instead of 6:00 and we think the world is coming to an end and they don't love us any more. Literally, says the article.

This kind of freaked me out, because I feel like I've spent 10 years of my life whining about rejection with my girlfriends. If I had read this article when I was in college, think of all that whining time I could have spent learning to ski or something. I'm only now coming to a place in my life where I can see rejection for what it really is; someone else's problem, not mine. And apparently, I'm not the only one who felt like I was living in my own personal hell when the cute boy I dated in Winter of 1999 told me he didn't think our relationship was going anywhere (and thank goddess, because he was a total loser, living in his parent's basement, working a crap job and wearing ugly shoes).

The scariest part of the article by far was the part where they said people's rejection sensitivity could lead to bringing about the thing they most fear: rejection. Apparently the craziness induced by rejection sensitivity is more crazy than your average Dick or Jane can handle. And imagine if two rejection sensitive people get together. They'd be joined at the hip and pissed off every time one of the pair had to go to the bathroom. Though better being pissed off than being pissed on, my Dad always says.

Anyways, I hope you find this article as empowering as I did. Enjoy!

The kind of love I want? Cake love.

I've gotten this question alot lately: "What kind of relationship are you looking for?" And I have an answer. And then I remembered this song, by Cake. I am changing my answer to this:

I don't want to wonder
If this is a blunder
I don't want to worry whether we're going to stay together 'til we die.
I don't want to jump in unless this music's thumping
All the dishes rattle in the cupboards when the elephants arrive.

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly
I want to love you, love you, love you madly.

I don't want to fake it
I just want to make it.
The ornaments look pretty but they're pulling down the branches of the tree.
I don't want to think about it
I don't want to talk about it
When I kiss your lips I want to sink down to the bottom of the sea.

I don't want to hold back
I don't want to slip down
I don't want to think back to the one thing that I know I should have done.
I don't want to doubt you,
know everything about you.
I don't want to sit across the table from you wishing I could run.

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly
I want to love you, love you, love you madly.

Right now

I am thinking about balance. Moderation. Choices. Compromise. Regrets. And...pepperoni.

I've spent too many hours working this week, and it's left me kind of hung over. Or maybe that's from the beer. In any case. It's a long weekend, so I get to make up for it by taking a break from my computer, hanging around outside, eating, drinking, running around and having fun.

Is there a perfect balance? Or do balance and compromise have to go hand in hand. So that "perfect balance" is just a euphemism for "accept 1/2 of what you really want" and we say it's perfect to kid ourselves into thinking its what we really wanted in the first place. I am not sure why I am thinking about this so much right now.

I've come to all these junctures in my life where I feel like I see the light, and the light sometimes conveys something pretty depressing. To the effect that: it never stops, you're never done, you just have to find a place where you can sort of be relaxed, and enjoy the ride amidst the chaos. If you learn to love the chaos, all the better...but your "perfect balance" generally means you learn to savor those moments in between the craziness. Because there will always be craziness.

My married mom friend said to me the other day, "Being a mom has its good moments. But it also has its bad months."

I think you could say that about alot of things. I also think she's a comedic genius.