Panda love and social media

I'm a lover of social media.  It might have something to do with the fact that I've found a way to make a partial living off of my social media skills.  I look forward to making more of my living from my ability to like, share, comment, and retweet.  And whether you like it or not, social media isn't going away.  It may change and morph into something different, but the general concept isn't going away.

You're always going to know what is going on in someone else's life, for better or for worse.

You know what? That's just fine with me! 

You know why?  Because it means job growth! Yay!!!

But even I draw a line when it comes to TMI in the social media realm.  And last night I finally figured out what that line was.

Recently I've discovered I'm old.  I listen to news/talk radio on my way to work.  Sometimes I listen to it on my way home, too.  I get sucked into a story I hear is coming up so I just leave the station be so I can hear about the weather, traffic and details on the story that intrigues me.

Yesterday, while driving home, I heard a teaser that really threw me through a loop.  I almost changed the station because I was so miffed by the topic.  But it's like a bad car accident; you just can't divert your eyes.  Rubbernecking is human.  So I listened for the story.

The topic?  The panda at the national zoo in DC was getting artificially inseminated.  Ok, not too much of a gross-out, big deal there.  But wait!

YOU CAN WATCH/FOLLOW THE WHOLE AI PROCESS LIVE ON TWITTER!!!!! 

My god!  Are you serious?  Have we really gotten to the point in our society where we now need to watch Panda Porn on our various social media apps on our smart phones?  Really people?!?!?!!?!

Is this really the best use of social media?  I mean, I get it that we could use a few more pandas in the world.  And I know that the two at the zoo are having their own love spat right now and science and technology needs to lend a helping hand.  But do we need to watch the turkey baster do its thing?  Really? 

There is a fine line between sharing your life with the public and sharing what your bathroom toilet looks like while you try to take a rockin' picture of your "duck face" pose.  Honestly, there's no need to do that.  I don't care if you're texting people while you're on the pot.  I don't get bothered by the idea that you respond to facebook posts when you should be focusing on not missing the bowl.  But keep that information to yourself.  That's what makes it great.  I don't care that you're doing that, because I don't know that you're doing that!!!

But the fact of the matter still remains that we as Americans made it possible to watch an animal get artificially inseminated.  They don't even do that on National Geographic.  Come on folks!  GEEEEEEZUS!

Let's have a little social media decorum.  I'm pretty sure Mei Xiang would appreciate it!

Temporary Vegetarian

Every so often I end up in a discussion about pregnancy and how much it sucks.  I work in an office with almost all women.  A couple are a little younger than me and the rest are a bit older than me.  Those of us with kids (I'm the youngest with a kid, and Elly is SIGNIFICANTLY younger than the other people's kids) talk about what our experiences were when we were pregnant or in labor.

And these conversations remind me about the things I've pushed out of my mind a bit about being pregnant with Elly.  I haven't forgot these memories yet, hence one of the reasons I blog.  I don't want to forget all of the hell she put me through.

You see, I am a meat eater.  (Take that however you want you sick perv!) I enjoy a giant, medium-rare steak, I love sausage and bacon both for breakfast, and I love to eat turkey sandwiches.  A meal isn't complete without meat.  Without it, it's just a snack. 

That all changed when I became pregnant.  Aside from the fact that EVERYTHING made me blow chunks, meat especially did.  I couldn't walk past the meat counter in a grocery store unless I had my trusty "air sickness bag" with me.  (The grocery store as a whole was pretty dangerous grounds for me, but especially in the meat department.) 

I practically became a vegetarian.  I couldn't stand eating any kinds of beef, chicken, or pork.  And I couldn't eat too much fish (which I didn't want much of in the first place) because of whatever crazy science article I was reading that week and the effects of the fish on my baby.  (My policy was, why bother fucking the kid up in utero?  I needed to wait until the kid was fully baked and then I could start screwing it up... because, you know, it's always the mother's fault.)

It was so disappointing to not even be slightly interested in any of the things I loved to eat.  I actually lost weight before gaining weight while pregnant!  Who knew dividing cells into a new human being would be the best diet around?!?!?!

The only thing I could stand to eat was bacon bits on my pizza (which I ate nearly every other day).  No other meat could be found in my house. 

Fast forward 10 months and I'll wolf down a steak in 5 minutes flat.  I eat hamburger like it's going out of style.  And I pile on extra turkey on my sandwiches.  My herbivore days were just temporary.  THANK GOD!

But Elly, she's still a vegetarian.  No matter what we try to feed her by way of meat, she's not interested.  But that kid will horck down apples, lima beans, broccoli, and strawberries by the fistful.  If you don't speed it up while cutting up the kiwi she'll let you know she's not pleased.  But offer her a bit of pot roast and there's no touching it.  She instead works around the roast and eats the potatoes and carrots.  So for now she's a vegetarian.  (Don't worry, the dog's still a carnivore.  Elly share's the pot roast with the dog!)

I just hope she grows out of it.  I don't know if I could handle a meal without meat!

Vanilla Tuna

I'm a part of various groups, whether in person or in the interwebs.  One of my virtual groups of friends is having a Secret Santa party in reality.  It should be a lot of fun because so many of us have met a couple people personally in the group, but not everyone has met everyone personally.  Yet, we're all friends. 

We know certain funny stories about each other, we have a good idea of what our kids like, who our celebrity crushes are, etc.  But if I had to pick one of them out of a line-up, there's about a 50/50 chance I wouldn't even come close! 

And because of this, it makes the Secret Santa aspect of the party that much more fun.  Because you could pick someone that you DON'T EVEN KNOW! So everything about them is pretty much foreign to you.  Talk about the ultimate secret!

I mean I know that A doesn't like the sight of breast feeding.  It totally grosses her out.  B loves to have sex with the windows open so the neighbors get jealous.  C pretty much wants to murder her husband once a week and is looking for volunteers to help bury the body.  And D, well, she's just a trip and is having lots of great sex with her husband. 

The fact of the matter is, I know that J makes great food, K just had a baby and L can put us all to shame with crazy kids stories.  I know who's puking or shitting at any moment in time.  I know who's just had sex, who's constipated, who's two minutes from strangling their kids, and who just put a hex on their neighbor.  (Why we all feel the need to share these intimate details of our lives, no clue.  Maybe it has to do with the fact that we don't all know each other personally.  Maybe after we meet we'll hear less about E's runs.)

What I don't know is whether E would rather have a gift card to Starbucks or a homemade scarf.  I'm not sure if P likes to shop at Walmart or a locally owned store. 

So to help with this, we've all begun to ask random questions about our preferences as a way to know more substantial things about each other.  Today's topic: what's our favorite smell?

My only response is: ANYTHING BUT VANILLA!!!!!  That smell is quite possibly the most popular smell in America and it grosses me out.  And here's why. 

Way back in the day when I first joined the military, I used to really like the smell of vanilla.  The lotions were a nice touch and as a bonus made my skin smooth.  But when I got to my first training location after boot camp, I got my first taste of what the "real Navy" was like.  And after the smell of boot camp funk wore off (there really is a distinctive smell you acquire while in basic training.  It's not really your fault, it just happens and you can't do anything about it.  Same thing happens on deployment.  You basically need to scrap everything afterward and start with fresh clothing after you're completely done.) it was back to wanting to smell pretty... pretty vanilla.

Well, the problem is, in the military you get a cross-cut of the American public.  (The good, the bad, and the fugly.) I just so happened to end up in school with a young woman who didn't really fully understand the concept of personal hygiene.  She didn't understand that you need to take a shower every day, especially after PT.  That you must wash your clothes regularly and that includes towels, sheets, and blankets.  Washing your hands after using the bathroom was even a stretch for her. 

And because of these habits, she ended up being pretty smelly.  I felt bad for her because she got put in a room by herself since no one could stand to live with her because of the stench.  She actually got held up before transferring to her first official assignment until they could teach her the basics of cleanliness.  And when I mean teach her the basics, I mean she was escorted to the shower every day and was watched to make sure she used soap and at least got a PTA (pits, tits, and ass) shower.  She was shown how to pour soap into and how to operate the washer. 

All of this training obviously sank in a bit, because she realized she was smelly.  So what did she do to mask the smell of tuna emanating from her being?  She reached for the most trusted scent in America and doused herself in it daily. 

At this point, the tuna smell was too far settled into everything she owned (they actually had to repaint the walls in her room when she left, and replaced the furniture because it had seeped into the pores).  So the vanilla did absolutely nothing at all for her other than give it a sweet musk additive.

So when I say I want NOTHING to do with the smell of vanilla it's because I think of a big, stinky albacore wafting up from the candle, lotion or body mist.  And I just puke a little in mouth because of it.