This girl kicks ass.

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This video is making it around the Internet this week. I love it. Long live aunt flo! How easily I can remember fourth or fifth grade when we had “sex ed” and learned all about aunt flo. If only we had such a bad ass video at the time to feel empowered about the changes that were about to or were happening to us. I most vividly remember a video we watched on a film strip about finding out you had your period for the first time, and the emotional foreshadowing was of such gloom. Will anyone find out? Will the boys know? Who cares.

I only hope this video will empower girls to feel fierce, free, and normal about their period. The video below is called: “The Camp Gyno.” It is from a company called: “Hello Flo.” Such a clever idea to help girls acclimate into the world of womanhood. You will laugh, I promise you. This girl is hilarious, she takes getting your period to a whole new level. One of my favorite lines is: “It is like Santa for your vagina.” Be sure to check out the blog on their website. There are some fun and clever videos, and content that demystify “the period” for a girl.

This could mean a menstrual revolution. Bring it on!

Words that make you squirm

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Moist. Moist. Moist. It does it for me. It adds many grotesque images to my thought. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. Hole. Crevice. Crotch. Pus. The list could go on. Why, oh why do these words give us such visual images in our thoughts? Why do they cause us to cringe and vomit in our mouths? Maybe it is the connotation of these words. Many of them have to do with body parts, discharge, leakage, etc. They do not bring great visuals to thought (more of the excrement variety) yet how have we become so tainted with visuals?

Recently I found this blog about the word moist and I laughed hysterically. Such a great post sharing all the different nuances for “moist.” Moist cake, damp, wet, the list goes on. But worst (yes, worst of all) is when I hear someone say, “moist panties.” I know it is a joke. I know it is just to mess with me, but it makes me quiver with disgust (even if I do chuckle a bit inside). Not what you expected in a random olio blog post? Well it is random, and it does happen, sometimes you just have to think of the stuff that goes unsaid. Yes, I am the one that just says what is on my mind.

This “Guardian” article mentions a few other words that make folks grossed out, but none of them really make me shudder. Phlegm does not bring the best visual to mind, but that is only after reading David Sedaris recent book “Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls” where he talks about the nature of phlegm in China, where it is everywhere — the subway walls, streets, you name it. His description is hilarious. So much so, that I read it out loud to Chris to see if it resembled his experience during his many trips to China.

I guess it all depends on what era you grew up in, as this NPR article lists moist, phlegm, and slacks as the worst words ever. Slacks? Seriously? It is not the 1950’s. My grandma abhorred wearing slacks until her final years, as though it was a sin to be able to just be comfortable, right? I guess I will have to create a better word for moist, since I live in one of the moistest climates in the US, and there are days and weeks that it is never dry. While we do not have that gross, moist, humidity, it seems like that word is just part of the Portland vernacular.

What words gross you out and leave visual imprints in your mind?

random x 400

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400 posts. I can hardly believe it. When I started this blog back in January 2012 I had no idea I would last this long. Looking back I cannot believe that I have randomly blabbed on about 400 different topics. Okay so maybe some of them are similar. My family, childhood, money, my favorite husband, funny videos, women’s issues, the occasional political post. That is why I still love the name of this blog. My posts are random. I write about whatever inspires, infuriates, makes me laugh. The randomest of things come out of my finger tips.

I often only have a glimmer of an idea when I sit down with my laptop and let my thoughts flow. There are times when a blog idea formulates in my thought and I sit down and start typing, never knowing how it will finish, or how long it will take. Sometimes it all comes out fast and furious in a matter of minutes and other blogs never feel exactly right. Sometimes I will write a post and it remains in draft form for weeks or months and some I eventually delete because they never feel right or salvageable.

I hope that in the process of my diatribes and babbles I have inspired, made you think, and made you laugh. There are days when I wonder why I still blog, when I wonder if it matters that I write any more. It is usually on those days when I doubt myself, my writing, and my random topics that I get an email or a comment from someone who says my blog that very day touched their heart, or was just the idea they needed that day. So you, my friends, are the reason I continue to blog. I do not write for anyone specific. I write because it comes out of me so passionately. I write because I do not know how I could keep it all in. This blog is therapy for me. It is a connection to so many individuals I have corresponded with and inspiration for what other ideas will continue to pour out of my fingertips and onto this MacBook Air.

Thank you to everyone who has read and continues to read this blog. You are appreciated and are an inspiration to me. I only hope I continue to inspire through random olio.

Keeping things inside

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I was talking with a few individuals over the weekend, and the topic of keeping things inside came up. It made me think about growing up and how we are taught to communicate. Growing up my dad always said that children were to be seen and not heard. We were not given a forum or safe place to speak up and say what we felt. Often I knew that I disagreed with my dad, but if I spoke up and said what I really felt, I would hear the wrath of my father. He always felt it was disrespectful to go against his viewpoint.

Ah, the anguish I felt to have to keep my thoughts and feelings inside. My home growing up either had thoughts and feelings put under carpets, stored in the attic, or they came out with rage and anger. I never saw the balance of real communication. However, somehow I was always fascinated with how others communicated. When I saw a man gently interact with a woman, I was fixated. When I saw a couple communicate amicably even while in a heated discussion, I was intrigued.

It was not until I was in college in my early twenties that I found my voice. I can almost remember what it felt like. I was writing a paper for a Sociology class, and in the process of writing that paper, something shifted and I knew that it was a pivotal moment in my life. I had found my voice. Ironically, the paper I was writing was on the topic of “voice” and in writing that paper, my voice had surfaced.

I no longer keep my thoughts and feelings inside. My dilemma now is to continue to work through the balance between speaking up and saying what I think needs to be said, and how that voice comes out. There is a graceful way to be bold and direct, but also to do it in a way that the other person can hear what you have to say. If you are angry while being direct, you can piss someone off, offend, and turn them away. Speaking gracefully for me is a work in progress. I do not always do it right, but I am learning along the way. The important part is that I speak, use my voice, and have it out in the open.

Do you keep things inside, or is it easy breezy for you to say what you think?

“Dear Girls Above Me”

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How many times in your life have you lived in an apartment and overheard the tenants lIving above, below, or next to you? My response? Too often. As frustrating as it can sometimes be, I probably have been the culprit of other tenants wanting to scream, “Shut up, you are too loud!” It is life in much of the rental world. And yet, Charlie McDowell wittingly shares the drama and laughs, of overhearing the dimwitted interactions of the two girls that live above him in “Dear Girls Above Me.”

His book intersperses his life, recent break-up, frustration, then intrigue with his upstairs neighbors, mixed with actual comments he hears from upstairs, rolled up with interactions with his roommate and landlord. I chuckled, rolled my eyes, and laughed some more. A clever book and definite must read. I included a few of my favorites here:

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘If that bitch talks shit about me one more time, I’m gonna wear a white dress to her wedding.’ Men use fists, women use fabric.” page 27

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘Did you hear that all these kids were rescued in Chile after being trapped in some mountain?’ Miners, not minors.” page 142

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘If a car is out of gas, can you fart into it to make it drive?’ Meet you in the parking lot in 10.” page 142

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘Eww Cathy. Was that a regular fart or did you just Queefer Sutherland?’ You have 24 hours to never say that again.” page 263

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘Well if you still have diarrhea tomorrow we need to get you some of that ex-lax stuff.’ Putting out the fire with gasoline, huh?” page 264

“Dear Girls Above Me, (regarding her loud fart) ‘Exactly why I’ll never move in with a guy. Who wants to give that up?’ I guess I’m the lucky one then.” page 264

“Dear Girls Above Me, ‘In getting colonics, we basically paid 75 dollars to take the biggest shits of our lives.’ Ha, mine was only 7.99 at Chili’s.” page 264

What are some of the things you have heard through the walls that were ironic or made you laugh?