Debuting j.a.m.'s jams & Adios to Daily Drifts

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!

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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!

Summer. Love.

Showin' Some Leg

What if male superheros posed like their female counterparts?

Well... I'd probably watch more cartoons ;)

Well, That Doesn't Make a Whole Lot of Sense: Second Edition

And now, eight things we eat in the US that are illegal elsewhere for the known effects they have on humans. The title is a bit of a misnomer since they're ingredients that are in many foods, so it isn't just eight items to avoid. Damn. That woulda' been easy! (Note: this list is likely not exhaustive.)

One of the most poignant lines in Eating Animals is when Jonathon Safran Foer says that when we grocery shop, we all "farm by proxy".

That is, you (along with all of the other consumers in that grocery store and in grocery stores everywhere) tell the government, farmers, and all of the middle people along the food supply chain, what you will and will not accept as food that you want to consume and feed the people you love. You tell them what you consider acceptable treatment of huge swaths of our environment, millions of animals, and thousands of people who work on these farms or in these manufacturing plants. Thinking about your choice as impacting the world on such a large scale gets a little (lot) daunting, but it's true.

We can't always get to the point of wanting to buy the organic strawberries instead of the normal ones with the difference in environmental effects far away, the difference in health benefits marginal, and the difference in price point staring us in the face. But what we can, and should, do is hold our government to protecting us from chemicals and additives that 1) are not even necessary and 2) other countries have extensively studied and decided to ban.

C'mon US FDA, you can do better than this.

Lucky Smacks

Sometimes, life smacks you over the head and reminds you how lucky you are. It has been a month (and change) of relentless "lucky smacks" for my family. The visual of a giant hand (the Life Hand, duh!) coming down from the sky to lucky smack me, only for me to look up and thank it for lucky smacking me has me silently laughing at my desk. Seriously, just think about that for a second.

Okay, moving on. Obviously, there have definitely been some difficult days, as there usually are, but somehow they seem to fade into the background of all the awesomeness.

Since May 1...

1. Grandma turned 90. How cute is she?!

2. My parents celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary. How cute are they?!

3. My brother and I got our Masters of Science and Public Health, respectively.

4. One cousin graduated from law school just in time to study for the bar - good luck Ry!

5. Three cousins finished high school and are onto big adventures!

6. One cousin got married.

7. Another cousin and his wife welcomed their first daughter.

What lucky smacks have you had recently? Seriously, try to pick out a few... it's good for you.

To Swim, or Not to Swim? That is not the question...

On Saturday, I woke up at 5:25am (after a considerable bit of accidental "Snooze"ing) to race into Boston with Ben and volunteer at the Charles River Swimming Club Annual One Mile Swim in the Charles.

Yes, I do mean the Charles River.

First, I helped mark their arms and hands with waterproof, permanent markers, so we could identify swimmers to the lifeguards on the dock and in nearby kayaks and boats if they were having trouble. Then, a few of us donned life jackets and jumped into kayaks to ensure the safe passage of swimmers around the buoys.

Between watching for straggling swimmers and unaware boats, I took in how beautiful the river is in the morning. It's peaceful, since most of the city is still sleeping or enjoying a cup of coffee in their pajamas at 8am on a Saturday morning. The water sparkles, small waves causing the sunlight to twinkle and dance on the ripples made by small gusts of wind and one hundred eager, rubber capped swimmers. The city views are unique and somehow manage to be simultaneously homey and magnificent with the Charles in the foreground.

Both before and after the race, I heard people on either side of the "To Swim or Not to Swim?" debate. Exhilarated swimmers said it was beautiful; experienced boaters were skeptical.

The point isn't whether or not you'd swim in it - it's that this is our small piece of the environment which has been rather mistreated throughout history. Lots of different sorts of waste were purposely dumped into the river in the past, and it's slowly improved in recent years.

Swimming in the Charles, whether or not you personally would do it, represents a few things - trust in the chemical standards that our government agencies have set for classification of water as boatable, swimmable, drinkable and so on; a personal investment in continuously improving our local environments and public spaces; and of course, a love for that not so dirty water.

#6

That is, the sixth time I have been pooped on by a bird.

Let it be documented that on Sunday May 26 at roughly 11am, while innocently waiting for a crepe at la Tour Eiffel, I got wacked in the arm by some digested worm and birdseed. At the time, I was telling a story to friends also awaiting delicious sweet and savory crepes, when I felt the familiar hit on my arm. I thought "I know a bird just pooped on me, but maybe I'm being paranoid. Finish your story." The story was finished... but interrupted by friends pointing out the end of an unfortunate chain of events... as well as another crepe-waiter who exclaimed, "That's good luck!"

I beg to differ.

Back when this blog was shiny and new, I wrote about the fifth time I was pooped on by a bird... and now we're up to 6. The silent prayers I mentioned when walking underneath birds of any kind  have morphed into cringing and simply awaiting the inevitable.

For all of the mathematicians in the crowd, yes - the rate at which I am getting pooped on by birds has only accelerated. I am considering writing to Guinness World Records. No one has a record for this category yet, but I'm sure I'd be in the running.

Well, That Doesn't Make a Whole Lot of Sense: First Edition

This may start a series since I often read things that make me scratch my head and wonder about this world. Enjoy the first edition.

In this week's edition of "Well, That Doesn't Make a Whole Lot of Sense" the Boy Scouts have voted to be selectively open-minded. That is, they are now allowing openly gay members into the Boy Scouts, but - ah, ah, ahhh - NOT allowing openly gay Scout Leaders. Excellent choice. Let's keep the openly gay members of Boy Scouts in a heteronormative environment. That's super.

In addition, their statement clarifies that they are not condoning "any sexual conduct, whether heterosexual or homosexual, by youth of Scouting age" since it's "contrary to the virtues of Scouting". I understand this is an important part of the statement for public relations' purposes, but that is just absurd. Some members of the Boy Scouts are in their late teenage years, precisely when we KNOW many of them engage in sexual activity - consensually, safely, and quite happily(*gasp*). To say you're opposed to sexual activity among teenagers is about as helpful as abstinence only sex education.

I know the Boy Scouts do a lot of great things. In the "About" section on their website, they describe themselves as an organization that "builds character, trains [] in the responsibilities of participating citizenship, and develops personal fitness" - these are all TERRIFIC things! I have a lot of family members and friends who are incredible people who have belonged to the Boy Scouts for many years and told countless stories about lessons they learned while Scouting - everything from knot tying to survival skills to sportsmanship. I know this organization has a lot of potential.

It is precisely this potential which makes me so frustrated at their selective open-mindedness. Sort of similar to when the teacher is hardest on the student who has a lot of potential but is falling short because they choose not to apply their full effort during class or to completing their homework, I am critical because I know they can do better. This organization reaches a lot of people and can help to further gay rights, comprehensive sex education, and many other subject areas that would fall under "building character" or "participating citizenship".

Good character and participatory citizenship involve acceptance of other good people unlike yourself, questioning mainstream ideas, and standing up for those who are marginalized or otherwise excluded.

Hopefully the Boy Scouts' selective open-mindedness is just step one, and they are quickly on their way to engaging all citizens, regardless of sexuality, and educating and encouraging all sorts of healthy choices among their Scouts, even, and perhaps especially, when they are controversial ...but realistic.

YouTube Features

Both of these are awesome. So, I'm not choosing which one to suggest.

How to play well with others... as an adult. (Oh no! All videos I can find have been removed for copyright reasons... but here are the words composing that amazing speech. Enjoy!)

and

How to Be Alone
"Dance like no one is watching... because they're probably not. And if they are, assume it is with best and human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting."

Happy gorgeous spring day!

The Zahir's Lessons

"...in the present there is always a space as vast as the steppes waiting to be filled up with more love and with more of life's joy." - The Zahir by Paulo Coelho

On Monday and part of Tuesday this past week, my stress from work was manifesting itself in terrible pain in my shoulders and upper back. I felt short of breath, mentally clouded and the mobility in my neck was limited. All of this was, of course, drastically impeding any progress I was trying to make at work, causing this awful negative spiral. Quite unpleasant.

I have been reading The Zahir, recommended by the awesome Cristina, and have had to read slowly to fully contemplate the intense lessons at work. Similar to The Omnivore's Dilemma, this is the type of book that I would (and maybe have) chased people around to relentlessly tell them how good it is. Seriously, read it, you'll love it.

While reading it, I have learned a lot, but mostly noticed that I put a lot of effort into tuning in to the present moment. Previously, yoga practice and teachers have told me to pay attention to the now, but I mostly heard this advice while I was on my mat suffering through, I mean, getting stronger with, each pose.

The Zahir gets credit for pushing me to apply that lesson to the rest of my life too. I mean really, in the United States, we spend roughly 230 days each year at work, give or take based on your holiday/vacation schedule. Regardless of how you feel about your job - love it, hate it, or love/hate it - it is going to cause stress for you and potentially people in your family/your roommates or neighbors. Of course, coworkers and supervisors can be difficult, projects can go off track or be delayed. BUT since Tuesday, I have found it enormously helpful to focus my energy on how I respond to the situation and what good things have happened that day. (This amazing weather and commuting on my new, awesome and as yet unnamed bike is making this task particularly easy, for now.)

Overnight, I gained a sense of control of dealing with anyone or anything in the best way that I can given the circumstances. I lost that gross feeling in my shoulders. I can fully move my neck again! I have realized that I literally do not want to spend any more of my time - at work, at home, or anywhere in between - taking on stress and allowing it to color the rest of my time. I have sort of a lot of time left on the Earth, hopefully, so I want to be smart and happy about how I spend it. Overall, I feel a great sense of possibility and ...freedom.

"Freedom is not the absence of commitments, but the ability to choose - and commit myself to - what is best for me." - The Zahir by Paulo Coelho

Wisdom from the All-Terrain Human

What matters in life is the pursuit, and everything we learn along the way. “The important thing,” he said, “is moving.”

Word.

Note: somewhat risque photo with this Times article, but the article is astounding, so read it. Just not with someone peaking over your shoulder that can't handle a (very sculpted and unclothed) human body.

Celebrate

It is hard to believe it has only been a week and change since that oddly sunny, warm April day where we all spent the day inside, anxiously glued to the television/computer/rapid fire media information available on Twitter and Facebook. Similar to what I've heard others say, I was feeling a bit emotionally hungover for several days... finally feeling back to myself, I've realized that a lot of my personal coping has been through celebrating, in the broadest sense of the word, since sometimes these celebrations were more like sad or mournful recognition of the events during and around the Marathon. Here are some of the ways I've been celebrating and recognizing those lost and the strength and beauty of the Boston community. Please note: everyone is going to process all of this differently, so celebrating may not always be the answer - just thought this might be helpful for anyone still feeling a bit "off".

On Saturday, Ben and I walked the whole Freedom Trail - I feel our status as Bostonians is called into question a bit here since this is something hardly any natives have done but whatever. We were even offered quite a few tours. (It was my goal to look as touristy as possible - apparently, mission accomplished.) What we realized with all of our historical stops along the way, is that this city has a long and intense history of people standing up for what is right even if it is risky. The volunteers and first responders acted as true Bostonians would on Monday and Friday of last week.

On Monday, I went to the church near my office for the moment of silence at 2:50pm simply to be with other people and away from my desk. I stayed for a few minutes to send some love and strength out to people recovering from all kinds of injuries. I left and heard church bells ringing not just from where I had just emerged, but also another church down the street. Knowing that they were ringing all across the state and that we had all stopped to take a moment of reflection made me smile.

Stopped to take this photo of the "Boston Strong" MBTA bus messages on Tuesday:

Glimpsed some photos of Sean Collier's service at MIT on Wednesday morning.

On Wednesday, I went to Newbury St and Boylston St for a little Birthday Eve sushi with Jane followed by some shopping. It felt good to be out and about in the sunshine of the Back Bay and amongst others who seemed carefree and happy.

Later that night, I stopped by the makeshift memorial for Krystle Campbell, Lu Lingzi, Martin Richard and Sean Collier. There are loads of flowers, stuffed animals, signs and gifts. This was not as fun, with many crying or hugging, but it's certainly important to recognize the loss of young, promising lives. It was also heartwarming that the monument was more crowded than any of the stores I had been in before.

Thursday, I went to the Sox game, where the crowd clapped just as enthusiastically for Big Papi's first home run of the season as they did for the five firefighters recognized during the game.

And finally, snapped this beautiful blooming tree on Friday...

Boston, You're Our Home.

Well said, Katie Lannan: 

To be in Boston on Marathon Monday is to feel a buzz in the air, like it’s the last day of classes before summer break, or it’s 2 p.m. on Christmas Eve and your boss just sent out an email that you can all go home at 3. It’s feeling a sense of excitement, euphoria, electricity, and to know that sense is shared by everyone you pass. It’s high-fives from strangers, it’s sidewalk barbecues, it’s families enjoying a day together, it’s even sometimes Red Sox fans celebrating a win. It’s what Disneyworld pretends to be.

To be on Heartbreak Hill, on Beacon Street, on Comm Ave, in the home stretch on Boylston–to be in Boston–during the marathon is to feel Boston’s pulse, to become a part of it.

Sending wishes for safety and comfort to you, your family and friends. 

Dogs. Wearing. Pantyhose.

Yes, Happy Monday indeed! Photos of dogs wearing pantyhose are all you need to jump aboard this train.

Many thanks to Cristina for sharing memes popular in China.

Happy National Public Health Week!

Despite all of the griping I do on here about pizza not being a vegetable, apparently the field of public health is making progress. Look at all of this super duper stuff we do!

...and if you're not the readin' type, watch this video, made by the American Public Health Association, outlining different public health initiatives' return on investment - meaning for every $1 invested in [insert initiative here] there is $[much larger than $1] saved in future costs. Yeah, it's awesome.

Enjoy!