Who Set The Norms

Yesterday, I watched "What About Bob", a movie that came highly recommended by one of my friends. I think it is probably one of the funniest movies I've seen in a long time. I laughed some much that I think a little pee came out, and my stomach still hurts today from the experience.

In the movie, the main character Bob said something which made me think. To explain why he was manifesting some of the symptoms of diseases he definitely didn't have, he said "If you act like you have it, then you really don't". It's an interesting concept. Growing up, I've always heard that bullies really didn't have the confidence that they pretended to have. The reason they were bullies was because of a lack thereof. So does this mean, that since we try to act within the norm, that we really aren't normal?

Think about it, some people have to make certain efforts to stay within the realms of society's acceptable norms. We have to consciously make the effort to say the right things, to keep a certain demeanor and to even think a certain way. I know that on days when I want to scream out "bloody hell", I have to hold it in, so that I don't look like the crazy person. When I am talking to one of my male friends, I have to hold back certain emotions or not seem too emotional in order to be perceived as a "normal" male. When I'm speaking to my female friends, I have to act like the stronger one, so that they have the shoulder to lean on. It's all part of acting out the "norm".

So who set these norms? What if we are acting out the "norms" cause we really don't have the "norms"? Are the crazy people then the true reality of what a human being is suppose to act like?

Happy Birthday to my Dad! He celebrates today!!!!

Kitchen Cleanliness

Yesterday my buddies and I ate in this sushi restaurant, a much smaller restaurant and not so crowded. We had liked the fact that it was run by an elderly Japanese couple and that not too many people knew about it. It is not as crowded as the other more popular sushi bars.

Anyway, yesterday I noticed that the sushi dude was using his bare hands to roll the rolls. I mean I would hear him washing them between rolls, but still. Something about people touching my food with their bare hands (unless it's my nephew grabbing food off my plate) makes me somewhat paranoid. I know that this country doesn't have as many parasites or microbiology problems as the USMLE or practice exams would make us think we have, but still. Come on a plastic pair of gloves (disposable please) would make a customer like me, feel better about eating raw fish.

And then they forgot two orders of California roll and Tempura roll. So the wife walked over to the sushi husband and started yelling in front of his working area. I know that when they emphasize and intonate, it seems like some spittle may come out. I was again freaked because one of the Tempura rolls was suppose to be mine. I kept thinking, just like toddler blowing out their birthday candles, don't eat the cake side facing the child or try not to eat any cake at all. All I could think about was "did some spittle get on my sushi". Not very appetizing.

But the restaurant itself is so comfortable. And the staff is sooo friendly--even if it does only consist of granpa sushi roller and grandma waitress/hot dinner cook. I'll go back again. But this only order the hotcooked food.

Oh by the way, one of the chicks eating with us said she heard it was good etiquette to eat the sushi rolls with your hands. She said it was considered weird to eat it with utensils---she likened it to eating french fries with a fork. Does anybody know?

My Father celebrates his birthday on March 21st! Happy birthday DAD!

Nothing Comes For Free

Yesterday, I craved something salty and crunchy, so I bought a bag of Doritos (the Nacho Cheesier flavor--really good). Anyway, on the bag it had a little advertisement, "One Free Music Download Inside This Bag". So I was getting my hunger needs fullfilled, it wasn't so much hunger needs as craving needs, and I would get another song to add to my iPod.
It was the most tedious task I had performed. In order to get this song, you had to download WalMarts music thinggamajig (which I'll be erasing from my computerNOW!). First of all it took so long to download. I don't know whether that was Walmart's fault or my cable company's. Then after you downloaded it, you had to jump through certain hoops and this and that. Needless to say, I got tired of jumping hoops (one of which asked some personal questions in order to be able to tax the purchases correctly. If they were free, why were they taxable. Makes no sense to me). I didn't get my free song, I've got this download on my computer which I'm in the process of now removing. However, I did get to eat the Doritos and a white chocolate Reeses Peanut Butter Egg. Really tasty.
I think I'm just going to purchase my music through iPod's iTunes. I'll continue to buy the Doritos, but I'm tossing that little "code" that gets you the free music.

Dreams

I've recently been keeping a written record of my dreams. My friend Saritha asked me to join her and another friend in keeping this dream journal, so I agreed. One the first day, I could only remember just a little bit of my dreams. But as I made a conscious effort to remember my dreams, I began remembering more.
The only problem is, my dreams make no sense. They don't even make sense to me. For instance, I had a dream that I saw two old high school classmates, Peggy O'Neil and Cindy Fox drinking at an outdoor bar. Cindy started to tell me how dangerous being a high school teacher was--she babbbled and in my dream, I made a conscious effort to block her out. Anyway, I haven't seen either of them since graduation, so I don't know why I dreamed about them.
I was telling Saritha that if anyone found this diary hundreds of years from now, they would think our generation of people very weird, if they based society on my dreams.
I wonder if dreams really mean anything at all, or if they are just figments of our inner thoughts. I haven't figured it out yet. And after reading over the snippets of my dreams that I do remember, if hope that my inner thoughts are a little more substantial than that.

License To Chew

You know, since I've been working out, it's given me justification to eat. And not just eat, but EAT. I think I've consumed more food this past week than I have ever. Even when all I was doing was jogging for the last few weeks, I didn't eat this much. But when I joined Jazzercise, I started eating more. But I've made a vow to stop the insanity (remember Susan Powder--the chick who would shout about the insane eating habits of people--and she had bleach blonde crew-cut). I'm going to start eating healthier and much much less than I have been.
Take today for instance, after church I called my buddy and asked him to lunch. After tossing around some ideas, we decided on this Grand Buffet place out in South Ridge. This buffet is just a huge feeding trough! I'm really serious, it's just a feeding mill, but instead of pigs gathering round the feed, it's humans. And then you think you are getting a bargain, but you just end up with heartburn. I ate, or should I say gorged on that food. Two hours later, while doing leg-lifts and crunches, I kept burping. Thank God no one was close enough to smell that aroma! Serves me right. Now, I just feel a little nauseous and my tummy hurts. That's the lesson. No eating junk while trying to get into shape!
I just wanted to say Happy Birthday to my niece Gail Estalilla (who celebrated her birthday yesterday). I also wanted to say Happy Birthday to Dr. Eric Brandsma, a former Kaplan classmate of mine, who also celebrated a birthday yesterday. I hope I'm not forgetting anyone.
If I am, just email me, I'll include you in the next entry.

Let Me Hear Your Body Talk

My cousin Sue Salutillo somehow talked me into joining aerobics. I didn't want to join because I'm not co-ordinated, can't dance and was afraid I would look stupid in front of the other involved people. All three still hold true and I've already been to three classes. But I am getting better at predicting the routine and also following the steps. What I didn't realize was that the instructors were showing us a routine and then repeating it throughout the song. I just thought everything was a hop around, jump around lift your knees and shimmy for the millionth time type of exercise.

On my first day, I stayed in the middle row--hoping to get lost in a sea of other aerobicizers (is that even a real word?), and for a good view of Jule (the instructor here at Jazzercise in Charleston) and not miss her steps. I didn't get lost in a sea of people (people keep a good distance apart, so you still stand out. And I realized that some of the people behind me, might be following my half-assed attempt to keep up with each new step or leg lift. So on the second day, I stayed in the back. This way no one would follow my mis-understood interpretation of the routine. You know what I realized while I was back there? I did follow the person in front of me, who also didn't know what they were doing. So for everyone who followed my steps on Sunday, I'm sorry for leading you the wrong way!!!

Now, yesterday, was a different form of aerobics (yes there are different types). Yesterday was CQ (cardio something or circuit training, something like that. I'll get verification and then let you know what it was). Anyway, weights were incorporated into the routine. Me, wanting to be more masculine, took the heaviest weights they had--the 8 pounds. Thinking, these are light, I incorporated them into the routine. Now my whole arm hurts, almost still trembling from the work-out.

My body is screaming "what the 'f" did you do to me". It's not only talking, it's speaking in four different languages. And I'm going back today for more. It's not only dancing and leg lifts anymore. It's actually fun!

Happy Birthday to my cousins Perry Lee and Sue Salutillo, who'll celebrate their birthdays on March 11th. Happy birthday to a fellow Kaplan Review doctor, Eric Brandsma, who'll celebrate his birthday on March 12th.

I'm sure that I'll write again before those dates, just wanted to make sure you were Happied, in case I didn't!!

Crimes of Passion

What is happening lately? In the news a lot, there have been stories about sex crimes. What is disturbing is that these crimes are mostly committed against young children.
The other night on 20/20, they featured the Wisconsin Mall rapist--who not only filmed his pedofile sickness, but also did this right under mall security's eyes. He would follow little girls--the show said between the ages of 3-13. What is he thinking?
Right here in West Virginia, a school teacher is being investigated for allegedly having sex with junior high boys. What is going on with people today?
I don't even want to write about it anymore. What goes thru these people's minds? They should just eat nuetella (as suggested by another fellow blogger--it curbs certain cravings).

Sorry Sometimes Doesn't Cut It

A man convicted of raping two women was denied parole this week. He was sentenced to 16 years in prison for his crime and was denied parole and also further parole hearings. The man not only raped two women but fled to Europe for several years (allegedly skiing and covorting thru Europe's finest resorts) before turning himself in. At the end of his trial, he supposedly yelled out "why are you doing this to me?". Does that sound like a man who was sorry for his crimes?

What I can't believe is that this man only got sixteen years. What is it going to take before people realize that rape is not a sex crime, but a violent crime? It's a crime against one's integrity, against their very being, against their innermost sanctuary? This person stole that from his victims, he stole something that can never be given back. And he has the audacity to say that the parole hearing was a waste of time because he didn't get his way? What about the time he took away from his victims. Please, five minutes to hear--"we're sorry we cannot grant you parole" is nothing to the years he took from his victims. This is not about a waste of his time, it's about a waste to his victim's time. The time they took out of their lives to relive this excruciating moment, to listen in anguish whether or not their worst nightmare would come true (if this perpetrator would be set free, causing them once again to look over their shoulders and question all the bumps in the night).

I live by the rule to forgive a person their trespasses. But a person must also serve their time for the crimes they committed. Sorry really seems the hardest word.

Nosey Minds Want To Know

I was reading some tabloid magazines that my father brought home. His secretary is an avid fan and subscriber to some of these magazines. She believes that Elvis is alive and well--even visiting a small town outside of Charleston, WV. To each their own, and I'm sure she has some evidence which leads her to this conviction. We all have certain beliefs to which we hold onto, no matter what certain evidence points to.

Anyway, I can't believe some of the things that people write or even have interest in. These celebrities, whose lives are no much different then ours (if you prick them, do they not bleed?), have their daily intineraries posted for all to see. There were pictures of them doing their grocery shopping and even sunbathing. Give me a break! Do I really want to know what Kevin Federline is buying for Brittany? I could care less, my eating habits will not be curbed because Brittany drinks Pepsi and not Sprite. And I really don't want to see Laura Flynn Boyle in another bikini. I end up just wanting to feed her a meal.

But these magazines sell because people want to know what these other people do. And although the things they do are probably on a much bigger scale--they do eat, sleep and put on their pants one leg at a time.