A fond farewell to Daily Drifts today, October 4, 2013. It has been lovely sharing this spot with all of you for over two years, and an incredibly valuable tool for improving my writing, supporting my ideas (some might say a bit too vehemently) and voicing them to anyone willing to listen, or rather, read.
There will be more writing of public health things in my new spot: j.a.m.'s jams!
Why j.a.m.'s jams? You'll just have to read for yourself.
Oh, and check out the new blog, too!
Friday, October 4, 2013
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Migration
You may have noticed a dropoff in blog posts. How astute and observant of you, reader!
You are correct. I have been using blogging time to work on a new site... stay tuned! Just like the birds who will be migrating south, I will be migrating to a lovely new home in the near future.
In the mean time, happy happy fall, everyone.
You are correct. I have been using blogging time to work on a new site... stay tuned! Just like the birds who will be migrating south, I will be migrating to a lovely new home in the near future.
In the mean time, happy happy fall, everyone.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Karma
This is a blog post about karma. And traveling, and awareness, and money, and lots of other things. But remember that it's always about karma.
I recently went to the Dominican Republic for a week of adventures, including jumping and sliding down waterfalls, horseback riding in the mountains, and one especially unique trip to another hotel where we were suckered into listening to a timeshare offer, including a walk through stunning villas that were equally luxurious and nauseating in their perfection. Once again, travel reminded me how comfortably we live and how privileged we are.
Between adventures, we spent a lot of time on the beach.
Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted.
While on the beach, we were almost constantly accompanied by las camisa azules, vendors we named for their blue shirts, who tried to sell us everything from sunhats and jewelry to hair braiding and massages. Some of them were polite, asking if you wanted [insert good for sale here] and leaving quickly when you refused. However, the majority were pushy and rude and sometimes sexist, insisting a half dozen times or more that you consider buying whatever they were selling. And doing this for several days consecutively.
It was certainly distracting from the sun-induced naps and good parts of my book, but since everyone knows some of the most unpleasant parts of any job can be dealing with unpleasant people, we tried not to be any more assertive than necessary.
We almost never bought anything from any of them until I caved to buy a pair of earrings from Carlos for myself and mom (happy birthday!). We haggled back and forth, as one should to avoid being entirely ripped off, and eventually agreed upon $40 for two pairs of silver/larimar earrings. Similar to other times I have bargained with such vendors, this one seemed to not care about giving me more stuff for marginal increases in the amount of money I would pay for this stuff - okay fine, $50 for three pairs of earrings.
We had a bit of a cash flow issue since we forgot what day it was and the bank would not be open until Monday, but Carlos agreed that he would take the $40 then and $10 later. How trusting!
Upon looking at the earrings again, I decided I really only wanted the two pairs and not the third. Why had I let him talk me into the third pair for $10 more?
I pride myself on my negotiation skills in many venues of my life, but in those venues, the playing field is usually quite fair. In this case, I had been reminded of the extreme socioeconomic disparity during our trips into the city, our conversations with guides who began work at age 14 or taxi drivers who lived in rough parts of Puerto Plata, and also earlier that week at the timeshare villa. I had allowed Carlos to talk me into the third pair of earrings that I did not want at least in part due to sympathy and in part, likely, because I wanted to go back to reading my book and being left alone.
I saw Carlos before I had gone to the bank and told him I had decided I didn't really want the other earrings. To settle up, I offered to give him the third pair of earrings that he had tacked onto our deal, or give him back all of the pairs for my $40. He refused, saying that he wanted the $10 and was happy to wait for me to go to the bank. Now, I was feeling mildly annoyed. I had put a different, and in my mind, fair option on the table to settle the debt; when you buy things at a store you can return them - why not when you buy them from las camisas azules? (There are at least three "duh" reasons running through my mind as to why returning things to beach vendors is not permissible, so no need to leave them in the comments section unless you feel particularly inclined.)
Ultimately, I ended up not paying Carlos. I saw him as we were packed up and heading out, with $10 in my bag and my mind toying with whether or not to pay him. I reached the decision not to pay him, atypical for me, partially from a desire to retaliate against some of the more rude vendors and partially from the knowledge that I had already overpaid for the earrings.
We sadly trudged to the airport, through security, and milled about the duty free, deciding to bring home some Dominican foods, coffee and vanilla. Landing in Miami a short flight later, we spent near two hours getting through some incredibly long lines for customs and then security. Ben's bag was pulled aside for separate inspection, and ultimately we had to either toss the vanilla, which was over 3 oz, or go back to check the bag for an additional charge then wade through the security line a second time. Rookie mistake. We chose to ditch the vanilla and forego another round of security line in favor of dinner and a relaxed wait for our flight to Boston.
Initially it was a bit upsetting, since I had many a baked good planned for that vanilla, but had to smile when Ben pointed out that it was Carlos's revenge: the cost of the vanilla was exactly the amount I had chosen not to pay him.
Karma, you win again. You always win.
I recently went to the Dominican Republic for a week of adventures, including jumping and sliding down waterfalls, horseback riding in the mountains, and one especially unique trip to another hotel where we were suckered into listening to a timeshare offer, including a walk through stunning villas that were equally luxurious and nauseating in their perfection. Once again, travel reminded me how comfortably we live and how privileged we are.
Between adventures, we spent a lot of time on the beach.
Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted.
While on the beach, we were almost constantly accompanied by las camisa azules, vendors we named for their blue shirts, who tried to sell us everything from sunhats and jewelry to hair braiding and massages. Some of them were polite, asking if you wanted [insert good for sale here] and leaving quickly when you refused. However, the majority were pushy and rude and sometimes sexist, insisting a half dozen times or more that you consider buying whatever they were selling. And doing this for several days consecutively.
It was certainly distracting from the sun-induced naps and good parts of my book, but since everyone knows some of the most unpleasant parts of any job can be dealing with unpleasant people, we tried not to be any more assertive than necessary.
We almost never bought anything from any of them until I caved to buy a pair of earrings from Carlos for myself and mom (happy birthday!). We haggled back and forth, as one should to avoid being entirely ripped off, and eventually agreed upon $40 for two pairs of silver/larimar earrings. Similar to other times I have bargained with such vendors, this one seemed to not care about giving me more stuff for marginal increases in the amount of money I would pay for this stuff - okay fine, $50 for three pairs of earrings.
We had a bit of a cash flow issue since we forgot what day it was and the bank would not be open until Monday, but Carlos agreed that he would take the $40 then and $10 later. How trusting!
Upon looking at the earrings again, I decided I really only wanted the two pairs and not the third. Why had I let him talk me into the third pair for $10 more?
I pride myself on my negotiation skills in many venues of my life, but in those venues, the playing field is usually quite fair. In this case, I had been reminded of the extreme socioeconomic disparity during our trips into the city, our conversations with guides who began work at age 14 or taxi drivers who lived in rough parts of Puerto Plata, and also earlier that week at the timeshare villa. I had allowed Carlos to talk me into the third pair of earrings that I did not want at least in part due to sympathy and in part, likely, because I wanted to go back to reading my book and being left alone.
I saw Carlos before I had gone to the bank and told him I had decided I didn't really want the other earrings. To settle up, I offered to give him the third pair of earrings that he had tacked onto our deal, or give him back all of the pairs for my $40. He refused, saying that he wanted the $10 and was happy to wait for me to go to the bank. Now, I was feeling mildly annoyed. I had put a different, and in my mind, fair option on the table to settle the debt; when you buy things at a store you can return them - why not when you buy them from las camisas azules? (There are at least three "duh" reasons running through my mind as to why returning things to beach vendors is not permissible, so no need to leave them in the comments section unless you feel particularly inclined.)
Ultimately, I ended up not paying Carlos. I saw him as we were packed up and heading out, with $10 in my bag and my mind toying with whether or not to pay him. I reached the decision not to pay him, atypical for me, partially from a desire to retaliate against some of the more rude vendors and partially from the knowledge that I had already overpaid for the earrings.
We sadly trudged to the airport, through security, and milled about the duty free, deciding to bring home some Dominican foods, coffee and vanilla. Landing in Miami a short flight later, we spent near two hours getting through some incredibly long lines for customs and then security. Ben's bag was pulled aside for separate inspection, and ultimately we had to either toss the vanilla, which was over 3 oz, or go back to check the bag for an additional charge then wade through the security line a second time. Rookie mistake. We chose to ditch the vanilla and forego another round of security line in favor of dinner and a relaxed wait for our flight to Boston.
Initially it was a bit upsetting, since I had many a baked good planned for that vanilla, but had to smile when Ben pointed out that it was Carlos's revenge: the cost of the vanilla was exactly the amount I had chosen not to pay him.
Karma, you win again. You always win.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Top Ten: Anticipating Spartan
What should I eat for breakfast before the race? Who cares? I'm going with my old standby pre-race breakfast: peanut butter and banana. If I'm going to burp up something for the hour that I'm Spartan-ing, it might as well be a tasty snack.
I plan to run in a sports bra and no t shirt. Since this is not my usual attire, that will be new. And hopefully a good decision.
Will I even get to the race? Have yet to look up directions or any logistics. Typical.
I have been rocking the burpees! I can do 30 (with breaks) without feeling as though I'm going to throw up! Go me! But let's hope I can complete all of the obstacles and don't even need this newfound skill.
Will I be hydrated enough? I didn't realize that this was a several day process... currently working on my second 16 oz. cup of ice water.
How soaked will the field be? Answer: very! Forecast is calling for just a bit of water over the next couple days. And if they think it's too dry, they hose it down. Slightly maddening since fresh water shortages are indeed a problem.
How nervous/excited are members of Ben's 30th Birthday Bandits? Answer: varies depending on teammate.
How uncomfortable will we all be during the race? Answer: probably very!
How pumped will the team be at the finish line? Answer: definitely very!
Will I ever get all of the mud off of me? Answer: Probably not. Or maybe, while soaking in the Caribbean...
I plan to run in a sports bra and no t shirt. Since this is not my usual attire, that will be new. And hopefully a good decision.
Will I even get to the race? Have yet to look up directions or any logistics. Typical.
I have been rocking the burpees! I can do 30 (with breaks) without feeling as though I'm going to throw up! Go me! But let's hope I can complete all of the obstacles and don't even need this newfound skill.
Will I be hydrated enough? I didn't realize that this was a several day process... currently working on my second 16 oz. cup of ice water.
How soaked will the field be? Answer: very! Forecast is calling for just a bit of water over the next couple days. And if they think it's too dry, they hose it down. Slightly maddening since fresh water shortages are indeed a problem.
How uncomfortable will we all be during the race? Answer: probably very!
How pumped will the team be at the finish line? Answer: definitely very!
Will I ever get all of the mud off of me? Answer: Probably not. Or maybe, while soaking in the Caribbean...
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Kettlecorn is so good.
I just blacked out for 20 minutes eating kettle corn. When I woke up, the kettle corn was gone, the bag was in the trash and all that remained was slightly greasy fingers and lots of popcorn crumbs around my chair.
Yum.
I am the antithesis of mindful eating at this point in time... but equally amazed and full and happy that I have such joy at such a normal thing.
Yum.
I am the antithesis of mindful eating at this point in time... but equally amazed and full and happy that I have such joy at such a normal thing.
Friday, July 19, 2013
RBF, CBF... WTF?
It has recently come to my attention, mayhap a touch behind mainstream pop culture, that "resting bitch face" (RBF) is a thing. It also is known as "chronic bitch face" (CBF) and many other names.
Good. This is great. I love that there is yet another form of pressure for women to look one certain way all the time, regardless of how they actually feel. Women don't get taunted on the street to "Smile!" all the time already by perfect strangers who feel entitled to dictate commands to women they do not know. And we all know that all women everywhere are always happy about everything, so why should their faces ever express any other emotions? It's really great that we have found a new way for women to pretend to be happy so that everyone around them is put to ease.
Good. This is great. I love that there is yet another form of pressure for women to look one certain way all the time, regardless of how they actually feel. Women don't get taunted on the street to "Smile!" all the time already by perfect strangers who feel entitled to dictate commands to women they do not know. And we all know that all women everywhere are always happy about everything, so why should their faces ever express any other emotions? It's really great that we have found a new way for women to pretend to be happy so that everyone around them is put to ease.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Re-use: Coffee Edition
Since graduation in May, I've been enjoying: not sitting in a classroom, not working on my e-folio, my fancy new name suffix (MPH), and reading everything public health related that I can get my hands on.
Two new public health things I have become more interested in are waste reduction and decreasing what I'm calling my "suffering footprint" meaning how much of a toll what I am eating or buying took on other populations or the environment. We'll talk about the suffering footprint in another blog post. Today is about waste reduction.
So, recycling is obviously a much better option than trashing, when applicable. I used to think recycling was a completely waste-free, energy efficient process, but this video about "stuff" informed me otherwise. Ignorance is certainly bliss, and without that bliss... even recycling my cups from the coffee I purchase a few times per week was tainted. Correction - is tainted.
I was trying to reuse my cups as many times as possible before they cracked, or the supply of them in our dish drainer perturbed my wonderful roommate, who would ask, "What are you planning to do with all of these cups?!" in a lovingly annoyed tone. You know the one.
I had no logical answer... there was no plan for all of those cups, quickly taking up an unacceptable percentage of our small kitchen, until I would eventually surrender and recycle them. But if nothing else, letting them pile up in the dish drainer made me realize how many I was using. And I am only one person. And I don't even buy coffee every day.
I had a reusable cup with a straw but the lid leaks and it holds 36 ounces. Do you have any idea what 36 ounces of black ice coffee does to someone?! "Puts them on the express", as my Dad would say, who purposely orders "Expresso" whenever the opportunity arises. I think it just makes people jittery and encourages consumption of enormous portions.
Finally, I have resolved all of these problems with one reasonably sized, 16 ounce cup that has a reliable lid, survives washing, and obviously doesn't take up much room. Reuse for the Earth: 1. Bye-bye one use cups!
Two new public health things I have become more interested in are waste reduction and decreasing what I'm calling my "suffering footprint" meaning how much of a toll what I am eating or buying took on other populations or the environment. We'll talk about the suffering footprint in another blog post. Today is about waste reduction.
So, recycling is obviously a much better option than trashing, when applicable. I used to think recycling was a completely waste-free, energy efficient process, but this video about "stuff" informed me otherwise. Ignorance is certainly bliss, and without that bliss... even recycling my cups from the coffee I purchase a few times per week was tainted. Correction - is tainted.
I was trying to reuse my cups as many times as possible before they cracked, or the supply of them in our dish drainer perturbed my wonderful roommate, who would ask, "What are you planning to do with all of these cups?!" in a lovingly annoyed tone. You know the one.
I had no logical answer... there was no plan for all of those cups, quickly taking up an unacceptable percentage of our small kitchen, until I would eventually surrender and recycle them. But if nothing else, letting them pile up in the dish drainer made me realize how many I was using. And I am only one person. And I don't even buy coffee every day.
I had a reusable cup with a straw but the lid leaks and it holds 36 ounces. Do you have any idea what 36 ounces of black ice coffee does to someone?! "Puts them on the express", as my Dad would say, who purposely orders "Expresso" whenever the opportunity arises. I think it just makes people jittery and encourages consumption of enormous portions.
Finally, I have resolved all of these problems with one reasonably sized, 16 ounce cup that has a reliable lid, survives washing, and obviously doesn't take up much room. Reuse for the Earth: 1. Bye-bye one use cups!
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