Eating the Artichoke

Everyone has some sort of artichoke in their life

Growing up I was not exposed to a whole lot of the "finer things" in life. I went to school, played some sports and watched a lot of TV. It is a lot like my life now only instead of school  I work,  instead of sports I sometimes "work out" and instead of the shitty basic channels we used to have I have real cable and a DVR which is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

For most girls (and boys, I'm sure), once you become a teenager you are suddenly hypersensitive to what you have an what you don't have. Aside from extensive knowledge about episodes of the Cosby Show, it turned out I didn't have a whole lot. This only got worse as I got older. One day you are on this level playing field where you have to wear uniforms to school and everyone lives in your hood, then suddenly you are dumped into a wasteland called high school and you realize YOU ARE FUCKED. This isn't fun, games and nap time anymore, this is hormones and opinions. It is like Mean Girls meets Lord of the Flies meets Hunger Games. The kids who could no longer take it and start home school symbolize the tributes who get killed.

At first the change comes in small doses, maybe you wear designer clothing, or maybe you have had the same back pack since 8th grade and it is falling apart. Then summer break is over and you realize that while you spent the longest days of the year splitting your time between babysitting your mom's co-workers kids and sitting in front of the swamp cooler that was so conveniently placed two inches above the kitchen floor and mostly blocked by the kitchen table, some of your peers were sunbathing by the pool or taking fun vacations. A few years later when I asked for a car, my parents conveniently gave me the famous "you're on your own with this one" speech. So when the time came, instead of gallivanting around town in a brand new convertible like some of my classmates, I swept hair and disinfected lice combs to save up for a new ride. This didn't matter so much to me once I got my car because even though it was by no means a fancy ride it did give me my first taste of sweet, sweet freedom and it was so good.

As I have come into adulthood I have tried to come up a little in the world by getting myself a decent education and buying  a car where the vinyl on the roof doesn't hang down.Sure, I have never been outside of the U.S. and have to nod and smile whenever someone talks about their month long backpacking trip through Europe, pretending that I am in no way super jealous, but in the past few years I went and got me some of that culture learning. As a side note I hope someday to see the Mona Lisa that everyone complains is "so over rated in person" which by the way eff you because you are looking at the work of a master artist, in a world renown museum. Besides, I don't say your family is so over rated when you show me Photoshop'd  8x10's of your wedding day or new baby but, as always, I digress.

The long way around this short story is that sometimes you are put in situations where you have no idea what you are supposed to do, it is completely foreign territory. This may stem from being a "have not"and suddenly finding yourself friends or mates with a "have" or maybe you are dining with people who have different customs, but instead of admitting you have no idea what is going on, you try to play along like you do. A great example of this can be found in The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. This is the part of the book when the main character,  Esther has dinner with Mrs. Guinea, a wealthy writer and the donor for Esther's scholarship.  During dinner, Esther has no idea what to do with the cherry blossom water bowl placed by her plate. Instead of asking what to do with it, she assumes it is some kind of Japanese soup and drinks it. She later realizes that it was for washing your hands and of course is mortified. Yes indeed, we have all been there in one way or another.  I call these kinds of mishaps "eating the artichoke."

This pithy phrase was birthed because my Bell Jar moment had to do with, you guessed it, eating artichokes. It happened one faithful day when I went to a friends house for dinner and they served artichokes as an appetizer. Of course I had seen an artichoke before, but had never eaten one. I  had no idea what I was doing and panicked. Fear that my friend might be loud or patronizing about it I didn't want to ask so I just waited for everyone to start eating and tried to copy them. Just a few months ago my friend Meg ordered an artichoke and I forced her to show me how you are supposed to eat it. I realize now that at this infamous dinner I was doing it completely wrong, and that I found the experience to be gross because you are not supposed to bite off the entire leaf and eat it, DUH. Still, whenever I see an artichoke I feel as sense of anxiety. It is as though that ugly little vegetable is calling me out as a tourist. Eff you artichoke, I say in my head, I know like, five French words!

All in all, we have all eaten the artichoke in one way or another. At some point you just have to realize that if people look down on you for it, then fuck em,' they are jerks.

Sometimes Mistakes Are Painful and Expensive: Part One

A year and a half ago I was having an identity crisis. I call them existential crises because I like the film "I Heart Huckabees" and it makes me feel smart, it has very little if anything to do with actual existentialism. Every few years I freak out about getting older, loosing my edge, or whatever is plaguing my mind that day and do something stupid.  I worry someday I will be "that lady." Every girl knows who that lady is, even though she is different to every girl, it's our worst nightmare. That lady is someone we have seen at one point in our life and said "Dear God, please do not ever let me be like her." My lady is some variation of this really boring, bitchy person who doesn't ever do anything exciting, wears Ugg boots and Juicy track suits, only watches shows on CBS, always looks like shit even though she wears designer clothes, hisses every time she says a word ending in S and all she ever does is talk about her kidsssss.

Sometimes these aforementioned crises are simple and result in a few new clothes or a haircut, easy fix. Then there are times when I go completely insane and end up with a huge tattoo of California on my forearm to cover up Chinese characters that I got during another crisis.

Before you go all Zach Dela Rocha on me

Just so I don't come across as one of those people who turns anti tattoo once she grows up and gets married, I think tattoos are awesome and have sat in the chair a total of three times, I regret two of those times. I love my tattoo Lola, she is a fat girl dressed like a bee on my back, if I move my shoulder around I can make her dance. I am Pete, she is Petunia and therefore it is the best tattoo in the world, if you don't get the reference, figure it out.

Anyways, the minute I got the California tattoo I regretted it. Gorgeous George, the artist who did it did a GREAT job but I just think it is ugly and looks like a big black birthmark, my fault, not his. I had several panic attacks for months, silent treatment from my boo for days, parents called screaming at me and haven't been able to go into my grandparent's house without a long sleeve shirt because I will be disowned if they see it. Luckily I run warm and they keep their house at a stifling temperature and it is always packed with people.

It really does

So anyway a few months ago I made the appointment to get the golden state removed from my arm. I really didn't tell a lot of people because sometimes, people just need to mind their business. Instead I thought I would just blog about it. So here is part one.

False Start

Late last year I made an appointment to get a consultation at this plastic surgeons office in Stockton. This place was really skeezy. It was clean but not really clean,  a woman was obsessing about getting a boob and nose job, they were playing this really somber chamber music and the doctors assistant gave me a flyer for a party where they were raffling off free liposuction treatments "not that I needed it, hee hee."  Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the lipo lotto but my mind began to wander, it all felt very "Eyes Wide Shut" to me. Then I got a panic attack  and ran out. No seriously, I literally ran out of the office, past a duck pond and into my car. 

Session One

After my debacle mentioned above I did more research and found a Dermatologist in Lodi named Dr. Khourdaji. Dr. Khoudaji is a pretty nice man and he looks like and Indian Abe Vigota, if you don't know who he is Google that shit. His office was pretty tidy, they were playing light rock on the radio and instead of wanna be barbies, I was surrounded by old people with psoriasis which for some reason, wasn't as bad. Once I got in to see the Doctor he measured my tattoo, took pictures of it and had his assistant go start up the laser. Anything he said after that was lost to me because I kept picturing him as Dr. Evil using air quotes every time he said laser.

Meditations While Being Shot With a Laser

We walked into the room with the MedLite "laser" and at this point I am nervous because although I handle pain well, the thought of it gives me anxiety. The machine itself is no joke, it is the size of a medium generator and needs a key to start it up. Yeah, you read that right, a key like what you use to start a car. You'd think that an advanced machinery invented to erase Captain Morgan tributes and tribal band mistakes would have come with a switch or something.  So Dr. Evil Vigota puts these goggles on me and makes the assistant do the same. I am trying to escape to my happy place when he grabs my arm for the first zap. Now before I go into what it feels like, which is all anyone wants to know I have to mention that instead of going to my happy place all I could think of was the song N***as in Paris by Kanye West and Jay Z. Maybe it was because all I could think to myself was "that shit cray."

The Big Reveal

If you want to know what it feels like to have a tattoo removed get a thin yet sturdy rubber band. Once you have this get a strong friend who kind of hates you to pull it really, really tight and then snap you with it repeatedly where your tattoo is for about five minutes. Does it hurt? The answer is yes, it hurts slightly more than getting a tattoo but it doesn't last as long, so I'd say it is about a push as far as pain goes. When it was over it looked as if someone had taken a small white paintbrush and made swirls in my tattoo ink. I wish I had taken a picture right there, but I didn't have my phone on me, next time I will. I was told to ice it for most of the day and to come see him in a month. Below I have included some pictures of the healing process. 

Before the treatment

One day later

Week 3

Week 4

The Healing Process

 One thing that did surprise me about this whole thing was that the healing process for tattoo removal is almost exactly like the healing process when getting a tattoo. 

Stage 1: Swollen and tender

Stage 2: Itches so bad you want to bite your arm off

Stage 3: Flakey and gross

Stage 4: Skin looks like the skin of a woman who tans way too much

Stage 5: Okay, it almost looks good now

I now sit here, one session down, who knows how many more to go. I go back for my second treatment next Monday and I wonder what kind of strange shit will pop into my mind then.

 If you would like me to chronicle the rest of the removal let me know, even though I am pretty sure my mom is the only one who reads this thing.

Wanna be on Top? A Very Long Retrospective of America's Next Top Model

Smize, though your heart is aching, smize even though it's breaking

One of my all time favorite shows to watch is America's Next Top Model. Seriously, I cannot help myself. I have my DVR set to record it anytime it is on TV and have spent countless hours watching re-runs in chronological order even though I have already found out who will be eliminated tonight. There is just something about the show that is so addictive. I love everything about it, what is not to love? There is bitchiness, tears,  meltdowns, embarrassing situations, fashion, "the ugly side of modeling,"  Nigel Barker, the J's and of course Tyra's genius on the spot bullshit and her clawing need for attention. Hell, that could be a whole show all it's own. I do wonder how the show will compare without Nigel and the Jay's since they have since been fired, but in honor of the 19th cycle beginning on August 24th, (which I consider a early birthday gift to me being my birthday is the next day) I have compiled an awards list of sorts including some of my favorite moments from the show. I do feel the need to say that I have missed three of the later cycles, so please forgive me if I have left out anything important. 

Best Cry Babies
There is always one girl in the house who will be reduced to tears at the drop of a hat. One of the episodes from cycle two is actually titled "The Girl Who Cries at the Drop of a Hat" which is coincidentally who I picked as biggest cry baby.  

Winner: Catie (Cycle2) This is the living legend. Cried for everything, everything! Getting her hair cut, water works, getting chastised for talking shit, sob story, dangling from a harness x amount of feet about the ground, river of tears. I have included the latter in a clip below.  I had a similar meltdown once on a ski lift at the State Fair. Catie ended up making it about half way through the show,  her parting words when she got booted off were "I got my ass kicked off the show." Still makes me laugh.

Honorable mentions:

Gina (Cycle 6) Mean girls like Jade and Janice Dickinson could smell the weakness and went for her like a shark towards a girl on the heaviest day of her period. Poor girl learned the "snitches get stitches" mentality the hard way.

Brittany (Cycle 8) Man oh man this girl was a cry baby and an excuse machine. She blamed her shitty commercial performance on being hit by a car that ruined her short term memory but was called out by Dionne for remembering every line from a previous acting challenge. Parting words "I am usually not this emotional, I don't know why it came out here." 

Hannah (Cycle 16) The show made a small montage of her tears, enough said.

Best Go-See Meltdown
Every cycle there is the much anticipated go-see. It is the time for a contestant to stand out and claim her territory as front runner. Unfortunately, for some it is a disaster.

Winner: Brittany (Cycle 8) She was honorable mention above but this lady definitely takes the cake for best go see meltdown. To say she lost her shit might be an understatement. This girl behaved like I do about three days into the Atkins Diet. Her unfortunate temper tantrum happened right outside of the go-see judging and blamed her disqualification on her taxi driver. I loved it when Natasha pulled the "Brittany, some people have war in their countries" card in her cute little Russian accent, it was all down hill from there. 

Honorable Mentions:

Heather (Cycle9) No amount of amazing pictures could save her from those confusing streets of Shanghi. She was more lost than Moses.

Ann (Cycle 15)  Ann looked the way I would look if I ever went on a go see. Disoriented, lost,  frustrated, upset and really, really frizzy.

One of the Twins (Cycle 7) Once the dynamic duo decided to split up and do their own thing there were tears.

Best Overall Meltdown
Sometimes stress just gets the best of us.

Winner: Tyra Banks The winner of this is not a contestant but the host and creator of the show. Cycle 4 might just be the most dramatic cycle in terms of shit going down. There was Rebecca fainting in the middle of judging, the worst photo in the history of the show (I wonder if that has changed since) and let's not forget when Noelle freaked everyone out by saying Michelle's face issues were flesh eating bacteria. But, none of them compare to Trya bitching out Tiffany. Six words will live on in ANTM infamy "WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU!!!"

Honorable Mentions:
Basically any high maintenance girl who got her hair cut short. They cried so hard you'd think Christmas morning was canceled on account of daddy being in rehab.

Catie (Cycle 2)
Cassandra (Cycle 5)
Jaeda (Cycle 6)
Bianca (Cycle 9)

Oh and Anna (Cycle 2) Once she realized she would be spray painted naked it was over. She claimed only her husband was allowed "down there."

Best Import

Every once a while some sweet immigrant will come along and steal the viewers heart. Someone should do a study and compare how tough the country was vs. how well they compete. 

Winner: Natasha (Cycle 8) After blowing everyone out of the water during a gender switching photo shoot Jay Manuel exclaimed "There is a reason why those Russian people compete and get gold!" Enough said.

Honorable Mentions:

Katarzyna (Cycle 10) From Poland. She looked like Kelly Kapowski

Fatima (Cycle 10) Baby Iman from Somalia. So pretty, so dumb for forgetting she had to make travel arrangements to go abroad. 

Anya (Cycle 10) She was from Hawaii but still sounded like she was from some other place to me. Ma-halo!

Best Divas

Winner: Robin (Cycle1) The first diva to grace the show. Her best moments include reading Bible verses about non believers to "militant atheist" Elyse. Staying in the room to protect herself from catching the gay bug when Ebony's girlfriend came down to visit, got upset when someone asked her if she was a virgin and you could tell she couldn't say no because then she'd be a liar AND a floozy, read the bible during what was supposed to be a social challenge and refered to the men as something like Fat Daddies. The best one though was when she paid some random man in Paris to be her escort so she wouldn't get lost during go-sees. She got flack for it from Tyra but everyone knows there is a scripture in the Bible that reads "Woman who hath voluptuous ba donk a donk need not find her own way but rather shall pay a stranger to help her find it" then all the angels sang and it was good. Hallelujah.

Camille (Cycle 2, 17) She was really good at rope-a-doping girls. She would go from bitch to angel then she would snap right back to bitch and tell Tyra you had an eating disorder.

Jade (Cycle 5) Thank You for believing in me

Best Round the Way Girl
I have such a soft spot in my heart for hood girls.  I couldn't pick a winner, so I just listed my favorites and their best lines.

Brandy (Cycle 4) "If I didn't get kicked off this show I would beat your ass!"
Tiffany (Cycle 4) "Bitch got beer on my weave!"
Jaslene (Cycle 8) " I ain't never been nowhere except for from the hood and around the corner!"
Bianca (Cycle 9) "Check your thighs at the door, and I'm done."
Angelea (Cycle 14,18) "I know how to be professional, I've worked at a bank!"

Best Ivy Leaguer
Some women swim at the deep of the gene pool by having beauty and brains. Those bitches.

Winner: Jane (Cycle 15) Princeton and modeling were always her dream. She took time off from Princeton to be in this competition. She wishes she could have seen "The Last Supper" because she majored in History at Princeton. Did she mention she went to Princeton?

Honorable Mentions:

Elyse (Cycle 2) She didn't go to an Ivy League school but she would use her pre-med science speak when talking about modeling. She also called Ms. J a shit slice (see Biggest Diva clip) and Kimora Le called her a know it all.

Yaya (Cycle 3) Went to Brown, sited poetry as she did her Cover Girl photo to feel more "Tee hee hee hee hee."

Victoria (Cycle 9) She went to Yale and verbally abused poor sweet Twiggy. "Let's get one thing straight here, I do not have a prickly disposition." 

Best Type A Personalities
Some girls wake up every morning, do cardio for one hour, only eat whole clean foods and have their vibrator drawer arranged by color, shape, size and battery life. Some of these girls also get cast on Top Model.

Winner: April (Cycle 2) I couldn't find a video that would do her justice so just take my word for it. She would obsess over every challenge, would call her boyfriend to cry about not doing well enough and stay up for hours to learn a line. In the end she got disqualified for being too robotic. Go figure.

Honorable Mentions:

Christina (Cycle 4) Over thought everything. I don't even know what more to say.

Melrose (Cycle 7)  Everyone hated her, but by golly she didn't care!

Most Loved
What is Top Model without our most beloved contestants?

Laura (Cycle 13) Laura was a whole lot of country and little bit rock and roll. She could tell someone to fuck off but you'd never realize it. She was voted most liked contestant of the whole series and got her rent payed for one year in a New York apartment. I guess being kind can pay off!

Toccara (Cycle 3) All of the judges agreed that she was booted off way too early. If any plus size model deserved to win this, it should have been her.

Analeigh (Cycle 11) For the most part I think this cycle is forgettable but a lot of people adored Analeigh. Especially since she has a pretty big role in "Crazy Stupid Love." Once she learns how to close her mouth she is going straight to the top.


Best Holy Shit look how amazing that girl is sitting on the toilet contestant.
Every couple of seasons there is one girl who comes along that every guest judge, designer and fan thinks is AH-MAZING at anything and everything she does. She could pick her nose and they would be like: "Stunning! she is just amazing and fierce."

Winner: Alison (Cycle 13, 17) My friend Andre wrote Tyra hate mail after she was runner up for the second time. He says Top Model is dead to him now. When watching All-stars it seemed as though Andre's love for Alison was shared by many other fans as well.  Da Game and everyone who photographed and interviewed her were totally smitten as well.

Honorable Mentions:

Michelle (Cycle 7) Her twin wanted it more, but she was the more natural talent, she got really far without even trying.

Heather (Cycle 9) Everyone loved her, except for that one guy who designed a dress for her and she was mad because she was more of a fire sign.

Ann (Cycle 15) She was tall, gawky and the lowest confidence I have ever seen on a person but people were obsessed with her, so much so she won the whole thing!

Best unsung star of the show
The Editing  They made it possible for everyone to see what  really happens in the he said she said predicaments (for instance when Brittany from Cycle 8 said she told the cab driver to meet her on one street but she really didn't), they never let the scenes run on too long and basically just made the whole show fun and hilarious. Seriously, the show can be hilarious watch it next time you are not sober.

Best personal Top Model moment
When I saw Celia from Cycle 13  in a silk red dress at Coachella and yelled, "Hey Celia." She didn't tip her hat but she did wave.

I hope you enjoyed my Top Model Retrospective! Thanks for making it all the way to the end!

Eyebrows: Or Loosing My Temper

I have a bad temper. Over the past few years I have tried to come into adulthood, keep my temper at bay, calm down and count to ten. I call this "loosing my temper" in the same way that people loose weight because I think it makes me sound clever, but in reality I have just gotten better at hiding the fact that I am about to loose my shit. I first realized that I needed to work on controlling my anger when I  moved in with my boo, Charlie. One night I got mad and threw a drinking cup, shattering shards of glass and water all over the kitchen. His reaction to the situation was enough to make me never throw any breakable item again, so now when I get really angry I just go into the bathroom and throw plastic bottles of things at my shower curtain until I feel better. This is a good strategy because you don't have to clean anything up and if by chance a shampoo bottle explodes,  you just turn on the shower and wash it all down the drain. See, it is all about hiding the crazy!

For the most part over time I have grown a longer fuse and certain things don't bother me as much anymore. There are a few exceptions to this rule though. Most of them have to do with certain people, but I wont go there. The other two situations are enough to make me drown forty gallons of Herbal Essence down the drain. The first is people touching my face, especially if they have dirty hands. I cannot stand when people cup my face in their hands and say something sweet, the sentiment is always lost on me because behind the smile I am secretly calculating how to kill them and wondering when I am gonna be home to be able to wash my face. I think I get so irate because I am bat shit insane when it comes to my skin  I am not ashamed to admit this. The women at the Estee Lauder counter love me because they know I am a loyal customer who is willing to break dance on a card board box if that was the only way I would be able to pay for my face care products. I refuse to step foot in a tanning salon or stay out in the sun without sunscreen too long for fear of aging too quickly. Go ahead and judge me, I will just console myself by watching this scene from "Mommy Dearest"  and telling myself I am not this bad. I do however admire her intense commitment and wonder if I will ever get to this point.

The second way to ensure a Hulk like rage is when estheticians wax my eyebrows way too thin. I cannot stand it! My face is fat enough as it is, I don't need thin eyebrows to remind myself of the excess real estate on my face.  I always go in and tell them "I like my eyebrows on the thicker side" and they always smile and say "of course, we will just clean em up" then I walk out looking like an extra from Mi Vida Loca and want to shank someone. Seriously, laugh if you will but tears have been shed over a botched waxing job. The pain is fresh because it just happened this week and I sobbed and cursed out the lady who did them while alone in my car for about a half hour. I should have known she was a stupid bitch when she praised the amazing acting talents of Kristin Stewart, what a dumb cunt.  Maybe someday I will achieve Nirvana and not sweat the small stuff so much, but until then enjoy this little comparison.

Acceptable eyebrows:

  I like these

Unacceptable eyebrows:

 I do not like these, notice the excess face time?

Born This Way or Fathers and Daughters

I have always been a chubby girl, always.There is not one time in my life where I can look back and remember being thin. In fact, I think I have been on one long continuous failing diet since the fourth grade.  My mom and dad love to tell a story about how when I was a baby, I was too chubby to fit into a heart monitor machine for toddlers so the doctor was forced to find another way to see if I had some kind of heart problem. This funny little incident coupled with the fact that my mom refused to wear tank tops because carrying me around gave her huge muscles before mom muscles were cool, branded me with the lifelong loving nickname of Chub.  Yes you read that right, Chub. Some dads call their daughters princess or sweet pea, my dad nicknamed me Chub.

I had the look of discontent from a very early age. Notice my stylish mom and her sleeves.

Many times I can remember being out in public and my hearing my dad calling for me from across a room.This was especially damaging because the volume in which my father speaks is equivalent to that of a banshee.  Strangers have often stopped me with an incredulous look to ask "what is your name?" I just walked away and used the embarrassment to become funny. Both parents have tried to convince me the name grew out of love but I really think it was my dads form of revenge. I say this because the doctors told my mom she was pregnant with a boy, so for nine months my macho man dad sea walked everywhere thinking he had displayed the ultimate form of masculinity by impregnating his lady with a boy. Unfortunately the day before his 24th birthday he was gravely disappointed when I made my screaming entrance into the world complete with ten fingers, ten toes and a vagina. Not only would the poor guy have to share birthday weekends with me for the rest of his life, but all of that Raider shit he bought was useless now. Minutes old, I was already deifying my old man and he had to settle the score. For the last 27 years it has been an ongoing battle, but I pretty much lost because he got his son (also known as the golden child or the miracle baby) four years later.

My pops and I. We both love to pose. 

Chapter 1: Spanx for the Memories

I realize that everybody has a blog now and only like, two people may read the entire entry but this is my attempt to force myself to be more honest about things, and to put myself out there. That being said I am calling this blog "Spanx for the Memories" because I feel as though every special occasion in my life begins with me squeezing myself into a pair of Spanx. No matter how special the occasion is, I can always be comforted by the fact that all of my insecurity and self consciousnesses is tightly secure in the sausage casing that are my Spanx. All fat girls know that Sara Blakely owes us some kind of commission because long before she became the worlds youngest self made female billionaire, we were using bicycle shorts to keep from being chaffed. When I am wiping the sweat off of my forehead after putting on my Spanx, I kick myself for being too stupid to have come up with this idea myself. I could have been the billionaire, but instead I am sitting in a cubicle pretending to work, oh well.