Thursday, June 14, 2007
Monday, June 04, 2007
Starving... One is a choice; One is not
If I am hungry, then I can eat. I can eat if I choose to. There is no worry in my mind that I may not be able to eat tomorrow. Because I am just that fortunate, that blessed. To live in the United States of America, to have come from a middle-class family, and to have grown up not knowing the feeling of starvation... well, I've just been thinking about that. I know how I feel when I have not had much to eat in a day. But I can't even imagine what it must be like to go for days without eating.
And there's something else I don't understand. These people who have the opportunity to eat, but choose not to because they want to be skinnier. It's one thing to fast for health or spiritual reasons, but starving yourself to fit into some tiny box of society's idea of what is beautiful or "sexy" is sad. Not to say that people who do this to themselves are bad people. I feel really sorry for them. I wish there was a way to let them all know that they are beautiful, no matter what the world says, and that they are loved just the way they are. And I wish they knew that starving themselves is hurting the people around them.
And there's something else I don't understand. These people who have the opportunity to eat, but choose not to because they want to be skinnier. It's one thing to fast for health or spiritual reasons, but starving yourself to fit into some tiny box of society's idea of what is beautiful or "sexy" is sad. Not to say that people who do this to themselves are bad people. I feel really sorry for them. I wish there was a way to let them all know that they are beautiful, no matter what the world says, and that they are loved just the way they are. And I wish they knew that starving themselves is hurting the people around them.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Pulled
So today was not quite an unproductive day. I sorted through my Facebook friends list, removing the people I either didn't know or that I really met only once and never talk to. I wasn't doing it to be mean or anything. Anyways...
In addition to the productiveness, I had to go pick up my sister, Emily, and her friend from school. Before I left, I lugged a big box of old computer text books to the truck. I somehow managed to lift the whole thing over the side and into the bed, but it was a bit of a strain. Why was I putting those books in the truck? Because my other sister, Kaylee, asked me this morning if I could bring them to the library to donate them. The computer company she works for no longer has a use for them. So I sleepily said I would, as I was still in bed when she asked. I didn't know how big the box was at the time.
So I decide to bring the books to the library on the way back from picking up the girls, since it was right on the way. In the school parking lot, I had to sqeeze through two parked cars that were nearly blocking my way to the pick-up area. It was quite frustrating because I was blocking someone who was parked in an actual parking spot. The two selfishly parked cars left just enough room for one car at a time to get by. Now there I was with this big pickup truck. I started to attempt the squeeze (and I was going to HAVE to get through if I wanted to turn around to exit) until two cars on the other side moved to get out through the small space. So I had to back up, being watchful of the many students that were heading to their cars. I was quite nervous when those two cars maneuvered between the selfish-cars and around the truck, and impressed when they came out successful. When I saw that there were no other cars coming through, and that the selfish-cars showed no signs of moving anytime soon, I carefully squeezed my beast of a vehicle through as well. Relief! But honestly! Why can't people just be more thoughtful when they park? I like knowing that if I park somewhere, other cars will still have plenty of room to get by. *sigh* Whatever...
So after I got the girls, we stopped at the library so I could drop off the books. Again, I had to lift the heavy box of them out of the bed. I couldn't do it on the first try, so I had to take some out and set them on the edge. Then once I had the box on the edge I put them back in. I slowly made my way to the door, struggling to carry the weight. Luckily there were handles on the side of the box, but eventually my fingers felt as though they might fall off. I tried to mentally get over the pain, telling myself that I was used to carrying heavy things at school and that this was no different. But this was heavier than most things I carry at school, even heavier than all the glass stuff I've had to carry. As I approached the door, I realized I was going to have no way of opening it. That is, until I saw the automatic door button. I pushed it and both the first and second door opened for me.
I set the books down on the front counter and explained that the books were for donation. The two women working talked between themselves about whether or not they were taking donations. Looking back on it, it's kind of funny. The fact that I had books to donate seemed to be a very serious matter. They went to check with, who I assumed was, the head librarian. I suppose working at a library can't be all that exciting (unless you are that into books, I guess) and for something out of the ordinary to happen, no matter how small, is more of an issue than one would think.
They went to a room behind the counter to talk to... I think they said her name was Karen. The wall between me and them was made of glass of some kind, and so I watched them discuss the issue. Judging by the expressions on their faces, and [Karen]'s slow and wary head movements, it did, indeed, seem to be a big deal. [Karen] came out to the counter, looking at me, then the box of books, then at me again. I almost felt like I was some unstable crazy person who might go off if these books were not donated. She said that they were not taking donations, but asked what they were, the whole time having a very concerned look on her face. I explained that my sister had asked me to bring them to be donated, and that they were from the company she worked for. That was really the extent of my knowledge about these books. She asked me what year they were, which sort of aggrivated me, having just explained that they were my sisters and I really didn't know anything else about them. So I said I didn't know, again saying that my sister asked me to bring them. She looked at the dates of a couple and explained they were too old to be used, and said they were garbage.
I didn't really care. I just wanted to leave, not being concerned with what happened to the stupid books. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Eventually, I lugged the box back out to the truck. SO HEAVY!!! I totally pulled something...
In addition to the productiveness, I had to go pick up my sister, Emily, and her friend from school. Before I left, I lugged a big box of old computer text books to the truck. I somehow managed to lift the whole thing over the side and into the bed, but it was a bit of a strain. Why was I putting those books in the truck? Because my other sister, Kaylee, asked me this morning if I could bring them to the library to donate them. The computer company she works for no longer has a use for them. So I sleepily said I would, as I was still in bed when she asked. I didn't know how big the box was at the time.
So I decide to bring the books to the library on the way back from picking up the girls, since it was right on the way. In the school parking lot, I had to sqeeze through two parked cars that were nearly blocking my way to the pick-up area. It was quite frustrating because I was blocking someone who was parked in an actual parking spot. The two selfishly parked cars left just enough room for one car at a time to get by. Now there I was with this big pickup truck. I started to attempt the squeeze (and I was going to HAVE to get through if I wanted to turn around to exit) until two cars on the other side moved to get out through the small space. So I had to back up, being watchful of the many students that were heading to their cars. I was quite nervous when those two cars maneuvered between the selfish-cars and around the truck, and impressed when they came out successful. When I saw that there were no other cars coming through, and that the selfish-cars showed no signs of moving anytime soon, I carefully squeezed my beast of a vehicle through as well. Relief! But honestly! Why can't people just be more thoughtful when they park? I like knowing that if I park somewhere, other cars will still have plenty of room to get by. *sigh* Whatever...
So after I got the girls, we stopped at the library so I could drop off the books. Again, I had to lift the heavy box of them out of the bed. I couldn't do it on the first try, so I had to take some out and set them on the edge. Then once I had the box on the edge I put them back in. I slowly made my way to the door, struggling to carry the weight. Luckily there were handles on the side of the box, but eventually my fingers felt as though they might fall off. I tried to mentally get over the pain, telling myself that I was used to carrying heavy things at school and that this was no different. But this was heavier than most things I carry at school, even heavier than all the glass stuff I've had to carry. As I approached the door, I realized I was going to have no way of opening it. That is, until I saw the automatic door button. I pushed it and both the first and second door opened for me.
I set the books down on the front counter and explained that the books were for donation. The two women working talked between themselves about whether or not they were taking donations. Looking back on it, it's kind of funny. The fact that I had books to donate seemed to be a very serious matter. They went to check with, who I assumed was, the head librarian. I suppose working at a library can't be all that exciting (unless you are that into books, I guess) and for something out of the ordinary to happen, no matter how small, is more of an issue than one would think.
They went to a room behind the counter to talk to... I think they said her name was Karen. The wall between me and them was made of glass of some kind, and so I watched them discuss the issue. Judging by the expressions on their faces, and [Karen]'s slow and wary head movements, it did, indeed, seem to be a big deal. [Karen] came out to the counter, looking at me, then the box of books, then at me again. I almost felt like I was some unstable crazy person who might go off if these books were not donated. She said that they were not taking donations, but asked what they were, the whole time having a very concerned look on her face. I explained that my sister had asked me to bring them to be donated, and that they were from the company she worked for. That was really the extent of my knowledge about these books. She asked me what year they were, which sort of aggrivated me, having just explained that they were my sisters and I really didn't know anything else about them. So I said I didn't know, again saying that my sister asked me to bring them. She looked at the dates of a couple and explained they were too old to be used, and said they were garbage.
I didn't really care. I just wanted to leave, not being concerned with what happened to the stupid books. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Eventually, I lugged the box back out to the truck. SO HEAVY!!! I totally pulled something...
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