Bridge Over A Troubled Cervix

You know what I hate? Getting cancer. It’s really low on my list of things to do in my life. Because of that, on Tuesday, I will go to get my last HPV vaccine. This shot has been a great point of contention among political parties, schools, and parents. Being 27, I was fortunate to squeeze in under the age cutoff and have not had to deal with the social ramifications of being told that getting it will increase my promiscuity. In fact, waiting to get through the six-month series of three shots has actually reduced my promiscuity. Eighty percent of sexually –active adults have HPV, meaning that I was extraordinarily fortunate to get to my mid-twenties and still be STD free- especially since HPV can be transferred by contact alone (read “penetration not necessary”).

HPV, or the Human Papillomavirus infect your mucous membranes. While it expresses itself as warts, many strains of the virus have no showing signs at all. This is particularly scary when a few strains (about 13 of the hundreds) of this virus have been linked to [Read more]

Office Romance Mantra

I can see why office romances are so common.

I understand their allure. It’s a social situation that isn’t diluted by booze, muted lighting, or ear-splitting music. The very nature of the office allows you plenty of reasonable excuses to chat and socialize. And then there’s the lunch break, which gives you an opportunity to get the know that special someone without the heightened stress and expectations normally associated with a regular date.

Face it: work is another venue for meeting new people. So much of our day is spent at work, and so it’s natural that someone at your job will eventually catch your eye. And for a person like myself, who doesn’t do the bar and club scene, work provides a rather convenient outlet, which is what makes the very idea of an office romance all the more seductive. Tempted as I am, I don’t bite the fruit. Never have. Never will. Why? [Read more]

Get Rich or Start Cryin?

Ever feel like if you could just get rich, everything would be ok? Ever feel like becoming wealthy is the most important thing? You’re not alone.

According to a Pew Research Center poll, 81 percent of 18 to 25-year-olds site getting rich as one of their generation’s most important goals and 51 percent feel the same about being famous.

In an annual survey of college freshmen by the Higher Education Research Institute at the University of California-Los Angeles, data from 2005 clearly show that money is on their minds much more than in the past. The percentage who say it is “essential” or “very important” to be “very well off financially” grew from 41.9% in 1967 to 74.5% in 2005; “developing a meaningful philosophy of life” dropped in importance from 85.8% in 1967 to 45% in 2005. [Read more]

My Bout With The Gut

That’s right, dear readers. I have a gut.

Well, it’s a slight gut, and so I try to use the term very loosely. I can look down and see my feet just fine with no revolting-looking mass of fat obscuring the view. The funny thing is that I was skinny when was much younger, and so while growing up, even at my physical peak, I always had some “baby fat” around my stomach. At the time I didn’t give it much thought. When I became a teenager, however, that “baby fat” grew up into real fat.

I could easily get rid of the gut if I wanted to. It’s just that I never had a real issue with it. If anything, I’ve always been more embarrassed about my various moles and scattered strains of hair on my back than I have been about my handles of love. I can only suspect that my hair and slightly beige completion have somehow made my gut more aesthetically tolerable than your typical pale, pasty, beer gut variety. Never felt insecure about wearing tight T-shirts around the house; never had any apprehensions about going to the beach and walking around topless. Don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t mind having a six-pack (what sane man wouldn’t), but I refuse to dedicate the time and work to get it; I’d rather use that energy for something else. That’s the choice I’ve made and I’m sticking to it: slight gut and all. [Read more]

A Half-Full Glass of Airborne

I’m sick. I get to write this laying in bed, drinking tea, and watching old seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD. Regardless of this relaxing scenario, I’m torn on the whole sick issue. Feeling ill is one of the worst experiences ever. You aren’t yourself and nothing that you want to do can happen. I would rather be clear headed and focused on my homework. I would rather be running around eating fun and exciting breakfasts at my local greasy spoon or drinking my sugar free hazelnut soy extra-hot latte from the ‘Bux. However, my body has taken a leave of absence and requires that I lay around like deadly sin number 4.

So I ride the emotional roller coaster of illness; feeling momentarily joyous that I have an excuse to lay around and watch Buffy save the world over and over (sue me, she’s a kick ass role model) and experiment with my newest concoction of green pomegranate and raspberry sangria tea, and then facing the harsh reality that I have three classes worth of homework to do, some boning up on my new job training, food to buy for the week, music to study for my voice lesson, and, oh yeah, a blog post to write. [Read more]

Love Is in The Crapper

Every few weeks at my school I encounter a publication that continually changes my life. Whether that is for the better or not has yet to be determined. The counseling center has deemed that the best way to disseminate advice is in the public restroom. Not just in the restroom, but taped to the back of the stall door. They figure they have your attention for a few moments, they might as well inform you at the same time.

Past issues of the “Potty Papers” (their title, not mine) have concentrated on how to study for finals, eating disorder awareness, and giving. This month I was wished a Happy Valentine’s Day with the following Potty Paper message: [Read more]

Holy Croatian Wedlock Batman!

I think it’s going to be an April wedding– mostly because he needs an apartment after this semester. Wait, wait…let me back up.

I started my official graduate classes this January after a long, boring onslaught of prerequisite undergrad catching up. Apparently, my school follows the grand grad student tradition of being a magnet for international students seeking a higher education. With the influx of euro-hotties, the possibilities for entrepreneurial advancement are immense.

Enter Croatian boy– Tall, skinny, and disarmingly euro (or gay, but I’m going with Euro). His glasses aren’t available in the states and his shoes have seaming on them you can only find abroad. He also is experiencing the unfortunate disadvantages of not having a social security number. Try to get a cell phone, buy a car, or rent an apartment without a SSN and you have to do some major finagling. At least once a week he asks me how he applies for a social security number, to which I often reply, “You can’t, until we get married.” [Read more]

Vote or…or…Oh Yeah!

Voting day! I love getting to vote. I am that girl who was upset because my birthday was too late for me to vote in the gubernatorial election the year I turned 18. I am the girl who stays up on election night until at least 13% of precincts have reported their results. I’m the girl who joins up with MoveOn.org and their calling initiative to get people registered, to the polls, and (hopefully) voting conscientiously. This is the first year I will be voting at my actual polling place. All throughout college I stayed registered in my home county because I care about the school board changes and the local idiotic laws. This means I got to be one of those irritating absentee Florida voters in the 2000 election. I can certify that I didn’t have any dangling chads, but I can’t speak for the rest of the absentee population. [Read more]

Losing My Religion Or: How I Lied To My Mother About Being An Agnostic

A couple of months ago, while I was still living in Savannah finishing up my final semester at SCAD, my mother came to visit me. As we were driving around town, taking in the southern splendor that is Savannah, we drove past a church. My mother asked if that was a Catholic church. I said I thought so, but I wasn’t exactly sure.

She then continued questioning my knowledge about the other catholic churches in town. I told her that my knowledge of the churches in town was very scant at best. Slightly frustrated, she asked, “Well, what church do you go to?”

“Oh, shit,” I thought.

You see, I was raised Roman Catholic, and so while growing up, my family made it a habit to go to church every Sunday. I did the whole nine: baptism, reconciliation, confirmation – all the big sacraments excluding matrimony. When my parents divorced, and my mother couldn’t take me to church because she worked on Sundays, I started going to a Presbyterian church with Jeff and his parents, thus continuing my weekly dose of the Lord. [Read more]

The Sex And The Pity

I felt it best to christen this website with a debate on a topic which I believe is long overdue, and that is over the show, “Sex and the City.”

Why the need for debate? Let’s just say I find “Sex and the City” to be the worst thing to afflict pop culture since MTV decided to try their hand in original programming.

There, I said it. Let the debate begin.

My distaste for that show stems from several areas. First off, I simply don’t get the show’s appeal. Now, I haven’t seen ALL of the episodes, but I think I’ve seen enough to form an opinion, an opinion which has inhibited me from wanting to see more. Every time I’d watch an episode, I couldn’t help but be disturbed by the show and what it valued and espoused. My distaste would then turn to bafflement when I realized that I seemed to be the only person who had these feelings toward the show. [Read more]

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