Adventuring: Camping, Manatees, & Victor

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adventure, adventuring, camping, devil's millhopper, florida, ichetucknee springs, manatee, road trip, spring break, springs, tent, trip

As a spring break getaway, we went camping with a couple of friends. One friend had been a tad obsessed with the idea of swimming with the manatees at Crystal River, so that was our first stop.

We spent the night at an Encore RV park. Don’t let anyone tell you it doesn’t get cold in Florida. Sure, it wasn’t snowing (though I did camp in snow once) and the temperature stayed in double digits, but with only layers of our tropical-weather clothes it was chilly. Really really chilly.

Frankly, I wasn’t so sure about the whole swimming with manatees thing for a couple of reasons. A) Cold. The springs are in the low 70s (F) year-round, which might sound warm to cold-climate people, but I prefer swimming in bathwater temperatures. B) Nature. I’m not terribly convinced swimming with manatees is good for the manatees. A good tour might go a long way toward helping tourists understand the creatures and encouraging distance and safe interaction. We saw way too many bad tour operators, though, who encouraged people to approach and distress the manatees.

And in all honestly, I mostly hung out, floating in my wetsuit, making as few movements as possible because I was cold and didn’t want to bump people or animals. There was one little manatee that came right up to me, though. Stared at me like I was a weird-ass sea creature and nudged me like my orange cat does. I scratched him on his belly a bit, which only seemed to make him want to follow me. They feel like wet, slimy elephants. The slime is algae and the algae-covered ones are manatees that don’t migrate out to the ocean in warmer weather. Which means my little manatee buddy has become adapted to the tourists and that’s likely why he approached me.

The particular tour operator we went with turned out to be very good. He was very adamant about staying out of the sanctuary (something we noticed some other operators didn’t do). He also followed a pair of playing dolphins on our way back in so everyone had a chance to take pictures. For this, only our group tipped him. (Related: People, tip the tour operator. It doesn’t have to be much, but they usually aren’t getting a high wage and if they go out of their way for you, toss them a few extra dollars.)

After the manatee tour, we headed northeast and stopped for lunch at a place on the river that, without Google, we’d have never found. Good food and a couple of vegetarian options, though vegan would be pushing our luck. (If I find the name of the place, I’ll come back and link to it.) Found it: Ike’s Old Florida Kitchen.

Then, we cut through Gainesville for air mattresses and a stop at The Devil’s Millhopper. If you’ve never been to the Millhopper, it’s worth a stop. The stairs are a great workout and the size of this ancient sinkhole is incredible. It’s also beautiful and a few degrees cooler than the city on hot days.

From there, we drove to Ichetucknee Springs Campground where we spent two nights. That campground is great. Just terrific and I’d highly recommend it. In winter months, it’s managed by Victor and his wife and they’re super-helpful. He’ll deliver firewood to your site and drop you and your rental kayaks off at the state park for a lazy river float.

The game room is old-fashioned goodness and the sites themselves are large enough and have plenty of trees so they feel semi-private. Oh, and HOT showers! Seriously, unlike the RV park, which ran out of hot water, this place had on-demand hot water. That, alone, makes them an awesome place to camp. (They accept cash only, but it’s worth the trip to the ATM.)

Misogyny, Macho Culture, and Apologists

Tags

apologists, misogyny, no, rape culture, Steubenville, trigger warning, verdict

Trigger warning: Proceed with caution.

The verdict is in for the two Steubenville teens that CNN seems to feel sorry for. Twitter is a mixture of rape apologists and people angry at said apologists. Facebook is probably still all cat pictures or shamrocks and Pinterest, I’m sure, is still largely flowers, baking, and projects even Martha Stewart wouldn’t try. At any rate, here are my two cents:

I’ve spent the past seven years listening to teen girls tell me or tell each other about being raped, molested, or assaulted. It’s so often a gateway to their criminal or drug activity. I’ve also heard too many times about their stripping, hooking, drug use, and older “boyfriends” who are sometimes encouraged to “date” them by their own mothers. This is not technically part of my job description. It falls into that category of being there for the students and trying to find out what’s keeping them from learning and just not interrupting them when they feel compelled to spill their guts instead of answering a multiple choice question. It’s reading their essays and poems. It’s being told in confidence the reason why they really need to graduate early or get a GED or drop out. Teenagers don’t always follow the lines we put in place about who to tell and who to talk to. It’s why we’re all supposed to be on the lookout for signs of abuse. Why teachers have team meetings to discuss at-risk kids. Why we’re sent to professional development courses on dealing with such things.

I’ve spent about five years listening to teenage boys. Teenage boys rarely tell you what they’re going through. Not like girls. Sometimes, they’ll whisper about checking mom for track marks or that dad’s in jail again. Sometimes they’ll scoff about divorce or say they’re bringing home the money for moms (sic) or taking care of siblings. Some of them are rapists. Some of them are victims. Some of them are both. The culture we’ve created is as confusing for them as it is for the girls.

The girls will tell you about some “slut” who had her first kid at eleven or thirteen or fifteen. They’ll tell you their first kid was their rapist’s. They won’t make the connection. They’ll tell you the “slut” had her second kid a few years later with her boyfriend or at least on purpose. They might tell you the same thing about their second kid. They won’t make the connection. They haven’t read the stats. They haven’t seen the literature. They don’t know about the studies. Even if they’re following the pattern of sleeping around after their own assault, they still let our culture tell them the other girls who do the same thing are sinful or slutty or stupid. Which means, even if not consciously, it’s what they’re telling themselves.

Many of the boys will call any female human they see or interact with a “bitch” or a “ho.” Doubly so if she has sex with them — consensual or otherwise. Well-meaning instructors tell us they have poor boundaries and mommy issues and distrusts of males and all manner of excuses. What I see are kids largely raising themselves and each other who get much of their information on right and wrong from media sources like movies, video games, and songs. (They are not listening to Air Supply.) They’re fighting to be the macho kings their cultural touchstones promise them they can be — football stars and rappers and drug kingpins. They’re fighting to prove they aren’t “pussy” because to be soft or feminine is to be wrong.

The girls meanwhile fight for dominance in their own realm. In their world, they must be hard — able to punch and take one — and sexy — dressed to the nines in booty shorts with pounds of weave on their heads — or sporty and butch in sagging jeans and brand new Nikes with near-shaved heads. They’re flaunting or hiding the only parts of them the boys see. They don’t talk about big dreams. They talk about getting by. They talk about stripping or doing hair. They talk about selling drugs, but they don’t have illusions of making it to the top of the game like the boys. They just want to be able to buy enough Pampers. They watch cartoons and have sex with grown men because to be “childish” is to be sexy, but to be “juvenile” or soft is still wrong. They are equally confused.

The boys who rape aren’t all the same. Some, especially the younger ones with younger victims, still look like victims themselves. Most have been and they’re re-enacting or trying to make sense of what’s been done to them. They know they did something wrong, but they can’t always articulate it. Usually, they don’t — to their teacher anyway– but it’s on their faces. And it’ll follow them around just like it does the girls.  Some are more vocal, that females only exist to make them happy, to keep them satisfied. They talk of running trains and assaulting drunken girls as though it is their right. These are the ones our culture created (as opposed to the ones our pedophiles created). These are the ones the apologists stand up for. These are the ones we, as a culture, can stop. (And maybe if we stop enough of them, we’ll decrease the pedophiles while we’re at it.)

It comes down to this: No.

It’s time our fathers and mothers and coaches and rappers and politicians admitted the word exists and it exists for boys, too.

No does not mean “okay, if she or he is drunk.”

No does not mean “okay, if you bought dinner.”

No does not mean “okay, if you’re famous or think you are.”

No does not mean “okay, if she or he is dressed in sexy clothes or dances provocatively.”

No does not mean “okay, if we’re on a date.”

No does not mean “okay.”

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating, that most of the homophobic men I’ve met were homophobic because they were afraid gay men would treat them they way they treat women. I mention this because the same idea applies.

If you wouldn’t want a gay man/woman you find unattractive/monkey-wielding a pipe to penetrate your orifices (with a penis, a finger, or said pipe) because you did one too many tequila shots, don’t rape a woman who drank too much.

If you wouldn’t want a gay man/woman you find unattractive/monkey-wielding a pipe to penetrate your orifices (with a penis, a finger, or said pipe) because you agreed to go out (even casually or as friends) with said man/woman/monkey, don’t rape a woman who goes out with you.

If you wouldn’t want a gay man/woman you find unattractive/monkey-wielding a pipe to penetrate your orifices (with a penis, a finger, or said pipe) because he/she/it thinks he/she/it is famous, don’t rape a woman no matter how awesome you think you are.

If you wouldn’t want a gay man/woman you find unattractive/monkey-wielding a pipe to penetrate your orifices (with a penis, a finger, or said pipe) because wore a pair of shorts or flip flops or your swimsuit at the pool or took off your shirt to play ball or stepped outside in a tank top, don’t rape a woman no matter what the hell she’s wearing.

And if you do want gay men, women you find unattractive, or pipe-wielding monkeys to get it on with you, you should tell them as much and let them make their own decisions (well, except for the monkey–get help for that).

 

Note: I work in a non-traditional educational environment.

Fort Lauderdale Beach

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adventure, bars, beach, dining, entertainment, food, fort lauderdale, kitsch, mermaids, restaurants, travel, vacation, vegan

The Weather Channel suggests you stay at B Ocean on Fort Lauderdale beach. I don’t know that I’d agree. Paying $300+ a night to stay in an old Holiday Inn (even as extensively remodeled as this one) seems crazy to me, but maybe that’s me. I also personally can’t endorse a hotel that leaves its giant blue B sign – that looks way too much like the moon to young hatchlings – on during turtle season. That said, the location is good since it’s next door to Thai on the Beach (delicious and fantastic views) and Primanti Bros. (if you need a fix of greasy, unhealthy food after a night of too much partying at nearby McSorley’s).

Just over the Sunrise bridge from (no, not the overpriced Galleria Mall) the Gateway Shoppes where you can find pizza (Big Louie’s), sushi (Heart Rock and Sasaya Market), Thai (Sukhotai), Spanish-American (Tiico Cafe), subs (Fort Lauderdale Subs and Subway), dive bar booze (Kim’s Alley Bar) and adorable little shops like Jezebel and Animal House Pet Supplies. (Yes, I know there’s sushi and Asian-fusion available on the bottom floor of B Ocean, but I can’t attest to the quality because it’s about double the cost of Heart Rock and MK Sushi & Thai over in Dania is even better than Heart Rock. No reason to pay to try Saia’s.) There’s also an old theater that, while small, is big on history (Where the Boys Are premiered there). There’s a Pizza Fusion across the intersection if you prefer your pizza organic, gluten free, or vegan, and just up Federal Highway to the north is Dapur, Sublime (awesome vegan dishes), and several places serving meat dishes, if you’re into that sort of thing).

Thing is, though, Fort Lauderdale Beach is a place with an identity crisis. Years ago, the mayor and commission wanted to discourage Spring Breakers and the loud, cheap, fun that Spring Break bred. The theory was that wine brought in a better class of tourist than beer, so they paved the way for developers to replace a lot of the old, small, and less expensive little local hotels with massive, expensive towers owned by the likes of Marriot and Westin, and Trump (until he abandoned the empty eyesore with the boxes and lobby furniture still stacked up inside). What’s left is a mix of the hoity-toity with the gaudy chains like Hooters and small old dives like the Elbo Room (you cannot go to Fort Lauderdale Beach without having a drink at this historic and cash-only bar).

The whole strip is a lower-middle class person trying too hard to be upper class. It’s a girl from the suburbs in used designer shoes she got at a consignment shop. It’s trying too hard, but it’s not completely succeeding.

Personally, my favorite part of the beach is the little side street running between Primanti Bros. and Sunwear. It’s a last little strip of old Fort Lauderdale with cheesy t-shirt shops, a place selling ice cream and popcorn, a couple of tattoo shops (including the well-regarded Tattoo Blues), the “World Famous” Parrot Lounge, and an always-different bar on the corner with a New Orleans-style balcony for people watching.s. B Ocean happened around this time with its boutique-style rooms and big price tag. Except, aside from a handful of nice places like Casablanca (adorable building, good wines, too many meats on the menu), the majority of the entertainment and restaurants along the beach that have managed to stay in business are cheap,

At the southern end of the strip you can rent watersports equipment or cookout and play volley ball with your pals on South Beach. If you want a tour of the fancy homes on the New River, I’d recommend one of the day cruises on The Jungle Queen. They’ll want to sell you the night cruise with its BBQ dinner, but you get a better view of the houses and wildlife during the day.

And finally, a bar I’ve been dying to try that’s supposedly located in the Sheraton shaped somewhat like a boat on the southern end of the strip is Wreck Bar. Word is there are mermaids. Which means, it sounds like a perfect compliment to the Mai Kai on Federal Highway in nearby Oakland Park. You’ll expect to find the Golden Girls or Rat Pack in the place and while the food isn’t so great (to me), the atmosphere, shows, grounds, and vacation drinks make up for it by a mile.

If you want quiet, head up to Lauderdale-by-the-Sea and on the way, if you enjoy Greek food, stop for dinner at Greek Islands. There are other Greek restaurants in the area, but this one’s by far the best.

As for where to stay? I prefer older places, little clean motels with charm to spare. I’d rather that than the fancy resorts. If you like luxury, those places pay for enough publicity, someone will happily steer you to the perfect one.

Review — EVIL IN ALL ITS DISGUISES by Hilary Davidson

Tags

acapulco, book review, financial, fraud, lily moore, mexico, missing woman, mystery, noir, reading, resort, trapped, travel, writer

Lily Moore is a travel writer who’s been running from her “real life” professionally for years. Prior to the events in The Damage Done (Davidson’s award-winning debut novel), Lily had been avoiding her junkie sister and the memories of their alcoholic mother. After, she finds herself mourning not only the death of her sister, but the loss of a person she never let herself really get to know, the non-junkie side of Claudia.

Of course it’s not necessary to have read Davidson’s other two novels in order to enjoy Evil In All Its Disguises, but aside from the standalone plot, Lily’s been evolving and it’s nice to experience her journey so far. It’s especially helpful to have read The Damage Done – and I mean, you should do that anyway because it’s terrific – but again, not necessary.

Lily’s trying to live her life again, to move beyond grief to acceptance and she’s been doing a pretty good job. At the same time, she’s been questioning whether her “home” is still in Barcelona or back in New York City where her best friend and enigmatic “love interest” Bruxton reside. She’s a woman used to living without mooring wondering if it’s time to dock somewhere for a while. She’s also still a travel writer, but the industry, like so many these days, isn’t what it used to be and she’s wondering if maybe it’s time to transition to something else.

In other words, she’s a human dust mote, floating around with only an inclination to land someplace, which makes becoming trapped within a single hotel even more ominous for her. Unlike her guileless travel companions on the press tour, she’s having a hard time sitting back and enjoying the champagne and free food. First of all, one of her fellow travelers is missing and while everyone keeps assuring her it’s not a big deal and that the woman will turn up, that it’s another one of her tricks, that someone will notify the authorities if necessary… she’s not convinced. Then, she finds out the hotel belongs to her ex-fiancé’s company. If she’d known that, she’d have never agreed to come, but now that Skye’s missing, she’s torn between wanting to stay and find out what happened and getting the hell out as soon as possible.

There’s something creepy about staying in a nearly-empty hotel. It’s creepy enough if, like I did once, you just find yourself going and coming when all the other guests are still sleeping. It’s even spookier if you know you’re one of six guests – and one of them has already vanished.

Pros: Spooky, well-written, and excellent character development arc. The darkened hallways and back staircases will make you look over your shoulder and keep you up too late. Davidson knows her stuff and it’s fun to watch her show off.

Cons: Every once in a while, I wanted to smack Lily. I want her to be less trusting, but that’s my problem, not hers. She is her own person, even if she’s imaginary, so my wanting to smack her is probably just a sign that she’s too realistic. If you decide to read this while on vacation in a Mexican resort, don’t blame me if you don’t sleep well.

Bottom Line: Davidson’s mingled her love of old films, her own travel writing career, and the dark places of her mind to create a mystery that feels like a ghost story, but with modern twists that owe nothing to the supernatural. If you’ve read her other two Lily Moore books, you already know you need to pick this one up. If you haven’t yet, it’s time to stop waiting. Get thee to a bookstore.

Book Review — LAST CALL FOR THE LIVING by Peter Farris

Tags

bank robbery, book review, crime fiction, dark, noir, peter farris, review, southern

This book is like an onion. A violent onion. There’s no backdrop here except the mountains. No one is a minor character. In each layer, each person is the center of his or her own story. They all have their own motives, their own reasons and fears, their own skin only they can inhabit. As such, no matter how intertwined they become, no matter what alliances – formal or otherwise – they make, in the end, they all stand alone.

Last Call for the Living is not the kind of uplifting, feel-good book you shut with satisfaction. It’s peopled with the disparate, desperate parts of humanity squeezed together, plucked and pulled, mined for the best and worst of themselves and pushed to their limits. Even those left standing are changed – no so much for the better or worse as much as forever. Like the line in that song from Wicked, they can’t say if they’ve been changed for the better, but they’ve been changed for good.

The catalyst is a bank robbery, planned by prisoners, by members of the Aryan Brotherhood, assisted by informants and gang members, and executed on the wrong day by the wrong person. Into the maelstrom go tellers and managers, mothers and neighbors, local and state law enforcement, victims and hostages, drug addicts and bar owners, church goers and criminals. Oh, and snakes. A whole lot of snakes. (Note: If you have snake issues, you might want to read this only in the mornings, with the lights on.) It’s the resulting collision course that makes up the plot of the book.

It’s dark and twisted and raw. And it’s fantastic.

Pros: Well-written, fast-paced, it’s a helluva good book. Terrific characterization that should satisfy all but the haughtiest of the literary set and the right about of double-crosses and shootouts to keep crime genre fans sated. Pretty cover, too.

Cons: It’s violent and profane and realistically depressing. If you’re already lacking faith in humankind, this won’t likely make you feel differently. It also feature characters, who, while realistically portrayed, are racist and sadistic and hateful.

Bottom Line: If you can handle the imagery and language and don’t need a happy, fairy-tale ending, pick this one up and read it already.

Book Review – SKATING OVER THE LINE by Joelle Charbonneau

Tags

amateur sleuth, cozy, crime, elwood the camel, fiction, joelle charbonneau, mystery, rebecca robbins, skating, skating over the line, stolen cars, toe stop skating rink

The sequel to Skating Around the Law, this book dumps amateur sleuth and roller rink owner, Rebecca Robbins back into a farcical mess when her grandfather’s buddy at the senior center loses his car.

Not lost. Stolen. Or so he claims. Rebecca’s less than sure the old man didn’t just misplace it, not to mention the thing was considered a town eyesore so she figures it’s no great loss, but she agrees to poke around just the same. This thrills her grandfather and the rest of the seniors since they’re convinced Rebecca will do a much better job than the local Sheriff’s deputy. She’s pretty sure she can, too, as long as she stays out of Deputy Sean’s way so he doesn’t haul her in for interfering.

The good news is she might have a buyer for the rink – if she can find a manager so the new owner can run the place remotely. The bad news is she’s not sure what to do about her relationship with the sexy veterinarian. She’s dying to move back to Chicago, but she also doesn’t mind making out with Lionel either. The worse news is her father’s in town. The no-good con man who walked out on her and her mom all those years ago is back and up to something – and nosy as she is, even she’s not sure she wants to know what.

If you’ve read Charbonneau’s debut, you know you’re in for a fun ride full of colorful characters (including an elderly Elvis impersonator and his groupies), ridiculous situations, and guest appearances by a camel in a hat. If you haven’t, strap yourself in and keep you hands and legs inside the car at all times. Well, unless the car’s on fire. Then, you should run like hell.

Pros: Fun, light, easy reading with a cast of comic characters who are real, but not too real or too serious.

Cons: While there are a few scenes with elements of danger, there’s no heart-pounding terror that’s going to keep you up at night. There is, however, the danger of shooting soda out of your nose. Best to stick with water while reading.

Bottom Line: If you’re looking for some fun, you could do a lot worse than Skating Over the Line. While it’s not necessary to have read Skating Around the Law first, it’s good enough that, unless you hate fun, you’ll probably want to. Best pick up the third one, too, while you’re at it. (A fourth one is also on the horizon.)

New Year, New You, Food You. (Part two)

Tags

avocado, diet, eating better, fast food, food, good eating, junk, listening to your body, meatless, salad, vegan, vegetables, vegetarian

Okay, remember how I mentioned salad and said we’d talk about that later? Guess what? It’s later.

Here’s the thing: Vegetarians don’t just eat salad. In fact, most of us only eat salad when forced to by some restaurant that doesn’t know how to cook without dead things and then we’re pretty cranky about it. Vegans? Same thing. Vegans and vegetarians are generally a hungry bunch. While a good salad can be wonderful, especially on a summer day, they aren’t always filling.

Look, I grew up on mystery meat, Chef Boyardee (more mystery), and iceburg lettuce salads drowned in nuclear orange dressing. I get it. However, there’s more to life and your tastebuds feel left out.

See, here’s what most of us are used to: salty food, greasy food, salty, greasy food, sometimes ketchup-covered salty, greasy food. See a pattern? If our tongue is coated in a thick film of grease (and if you stop eating hydrogenated oils for a month or two and try to go back, you’ll notice that film even more), you can’t taste the more subtle flavors of a dish. You need more salt and hot sauce and HFCS ketchup to get through so you taste something.

That’s why “diets” and “cheat days” and all that crap ends up failing. If you go back to eating junk, your body will want junk. Until you train it otherwise. So, for one-to-three months, don’t eat fast food. Don’t eat anything with hydrogenated or partially-hydrogenated oils. At all. Look at the ingredients. If it’s in there, but it back on the shelf. (And “Zero trans fats!” is misleading because that’s “less than .5 per serving. It can still be in there and it’s still doing its candle-wax routine with your tongue.)

But? I thought you said we weren’t going to “diet.” If I just quit fast food for a few months, isn’t that a diet? Look, what we’re aiming for here is a lifestyle change. With some things, you can change gradually. You can mix in whole wheat pasta with your semolina until you get used to the nutty texture. (Frankly, I like both and use both depending on which will go better with a particular dish. I also use buckwheat soba and amaranth pastas, etc., but that’s a whole other thing.) The fast food thing? The hydrogenated oils thing? It’s gotta be whole hog, so to speak. After your 1-3 month “cleanse” or “purge” or whatever, if you find yourself craving a drive-thru, go ahead… But! Order small. And then pay attention to how you feel after you eat it. Take notes if you have to. Do you feel hungry two hours later? Do you feel bloated? Gassy? Does your tongue feel like you licked a Yankee Candle? If so, don’t do that anymore. There’s better food out there than stuff that gets passed into your car by a teenager.

Here’s where you roll your eyes because I’m being ridiculous or accuse me of being one of those liberal hippies who doesn’t want you to eat things that taste good. The thing about that is, once you start tasting food, you realize McBurgerBell doesn’t taste all that good. And it might be convenient, but at what cost?

Speaking of costs, I’ve heard the arguments about vegetarian meals costing more than meat dishes. Think about that for a minute. If grains and vegetables and beans cost more than a slab of dead cow, just how healthy was that cow and what kinds of other cost-cutting measures happened along the way? But that’s a whole other rabbit hole.

I’ve also heard the arguments about soy not being good. And about “you’re not getting any calcium if you don’t drink milk.” And “veggies aren’t completely safe either.” Yeah, except the main thing is to start listening to our bodies. Mine? Really happy with tofu and seitan and beans and grains. I was often anemic back when I ate meat and that hasn’t really changed, but the listening reminds me to take my vitamins that and evens it out. Otherwise? There’s calcium in lots of vegetables and nuts. Almond milk generally has more than cow milk and lacks the lactose that tends to cause excess mucus, bloating, and other side effects as well as lacking the cholesterol. Oh, and the main contaminants of veggies? Cross-contamination with meat products and lack of proper sanitation in fields (e.g. not having proper restrooms for pickers or having cattle runoff too close to the crops).

So, eat the things your body tells you to eat. Not the things your midnight-TV watching brain tells you to get from a drive-thru. Not the sugared-up junk your kids beg you for. Not the convenient things in the vending machine at work. Not the high-fat, low-nutrient foods you want after three beers and a bad day. No. Listen to your body. Your intestines. How do they feel after junk? Pay attention to your energy levels. Which foods make you want to jump up and run around the block and which ones make you want to hibernate until spring. (No, I can totally kill some mac n’ cheese, I get it. I just make it which fake cheese because dairy hates me and hates my husband more.) Phase out junk. Pay attention to flavors. Learn what to do with spices and herbs. Eat outside your comfort zone (and no, that doesn’t mean “eat gross stuff like that Bizarre Foods dude). Give Meatless Mondays a go.

I know it sounds corny. And maybe hokey and like a bunch of new age-y BS. Really. I get it. But when you listen to your body, you feel better. Trust me.

For the record, a “good” salad to me has things like spinach and an interesting leafy lettuce mix( maybe even some kale), broccoli, cauliflower, peppers, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, radishes, maybe some beets, beans like garbanzo or black or kidney, maybe some avocado slices, maybe some fresh-grilled corn hacked off the cob, with a vinaigrette and a big chuck of multigrain bread on the side.

Mmm…avocado.

*wanders off to make avocado-lemon-garlic sauce for linguine*

New Year, New You? Forget the scales. No, really.

Tags

diet, exercise, food, getting fit, health, mental health, new years resolutions, weight loss

Honestly, I’m in no place to give you advice on anything except maybe healthy eating. Which is not to say my diet is perfect, but perfect is boring anyway.

Look, you know diets don’t work as well as I do. (Go ahead, I’ll wait while you yell at the skinny nearly-vegan girl about how little she knows about the five pounds you lost eating nothing but grapefruit for a week.) As I was saying, we all know “diets” don’t work. They might work while you’re doing them. They might work short-term. But they’re not a good long-term strategy for health (or weight loss for that matter, but let’s worry about one thing at a time).

Diets don’t work because you think of them as short term. They’re a quick fix. Honestly, when was the last time the “quick fix” for anything worked better than doing it the “right way”? (I’ll wait while you tell me about the radiator you duct-taped or the bike you jerry-rigged in the Everglades — oh, wait, that last one was me, but I still needed a real bolt once I got back to civilization.) Short-term is just that. You lose the five pounds for the wedding and then you gain it back on the honeymoon. And often when you gain back “quick fix” pounds, they bring friends.

Furthermore, you need nutrients from a variety of foods, so living on nothing but grapefruit (or meat for that matter), doesn’t work in the long-term. You know it and I know it. Now, that we’ve admitted it, let’s move on. (Yeah, I know I eat “nothing but salads.” Well, get to that.)

Eating nothing but meat is a good way to die of heart disease. It’s a good way for bad cholesterol, high blood pressure, clogged arteries, and other nasty side effects to do you in no matter what the scales say. So cut that shit out. (No, you don’t have to cut out all meat if you don’t want to. It works for me. It might not work for you. Moderation is key. And keep an eye on your internal numbers. They’re a much better predictor of how healthy you are than the scale. Trust me, I’ve been the “fattest” skinny girl before. Growing up in the Deep South means even the underweight-BMI, borderline-anorexia chick had unhealthy internal numbers.)

More women die of heart disease than breast cancer. And many cancers have been linked to diet, too. So, seriously, go get some blood work done before you worry about fitting into a size 10, 2, or 22.

The scale? Not your friend. Muscle weighs more. And muscle is good. Muscle keeps your bones strong. Weight training goes further to prevent osteoporosis than drinking gallons of milk. (And milk can lead to heart disease cause it’s fatty.) We’ll come back to that.

The label in your pants? Not your friend. Why? Because clothing manufacturers mess with your head, that’s why. And because you’re not Angelina Jolie or Anne Hathaway playing a dying woman. You’re you. And if you’re healthy enough to run a mile, lift enough weights to keep your bones strong, and eat well enough to not die of some preventable disease, you’re doing good. If you don’t like the way you look, are you sure it’s because you don’t look good or is it because you read too many glossy magazines with Photoshopped America’s Next Model rejects in them?

Consider this: I’ve been wearing a size four since I was in high school. (Stop throwing things. I grew that way. And again, it means nothing.) In high school, I had a BMI under 16. My rib cage stuck out further than my boobs. (Huge hit with the boys, that. Yes, that’s sarcasm.) I weigh a good 25-30 pounds more than that now and my BMI is around 20. So, why do I wear the same size? Why can I sometimes fit into a size 2? For the same reason Chicos sizes their clothes the way they do. To mess with your head. Stop letting them mess with your head. YOU ARE NOT A DRESS SIZE. You are a PERSON.

Moving on.

So, if you want to be a new you in the new year, stop worrying about the things that don’t matter. Start working out. Trust me, the first few times or the first month might suck, but it gets easier and it gets fun and it’s not only great for your bones and your waist, it’s good for your mood and your energy levels. Stick with it. Don’t expect miracles. Again, focus on how you feel not what you weigh.

Do some weight training. Realize you need to lift more than you think. (All those “low weight, more reps” lies about “toning” and “bulk” are just that: lies.) Challenging yoga classes can also build muscle definition, but only if you’re doing a lot of balances that require you to support your body weight. If you’re easily doing your whole set, it’s not heavy enough. If you’re not sure how much weight you need to lift, hire a personal trainer, even if just for a few sessions.

Do some cardio. Walking, jogging, running, basketball, biking. The more weight-bearing the sport, the better (unless you have an injury or ailment that prevents it). Work up to the marathon. Couch-to-5K apps (and similar) are great because they train you to build up to a goal so you don’t overdo and injure yourself. If you’ve never run more than across the living room to chase your toddler, don’t try to jog five miles your first time out. If you’ve never biked further than around the little park in your neighborhood, don’t think you’re doing a 100-miler your first trip out. (And here’s where starting out with a trip to the doctor is a good idea. If your iron or other numbers are off, you should know before you kill yourself trying to get healthy.)

No, running alone won’t make you thin. Neither will biking or hiking or skiing or swimming. Stop thinking about size. Again, most guys don’t like concave boobs. Neither do most women. And you’re always sexier breathing than dead. (Well, I mean, to most people. There’s make-up if you really have some necrophilia fetish you don’t need to tell me about.)

Added bonus? the cardio helps your mood. It can help keep mild depression at bay, can help ADHD, and a bunch of other mental health problems, especially if you choose to do some of your workouts outdoors or in positive settings. (No, it doesn’t mean you necessarily can stop taking your meds. Pay attention to your body and talk to your doctor before you do anything crazy. I’m not a medical professional.)

Next time? More on that whole “diet” thing. Start small, people. But keep going.

**NOTE: I mention talking to your doctor a lot. I am not a doctor. I don’t claim to be. Before you start anything new, you should get checked out by someone who knows more than I do about how the body works. If your New Year’s Resolution was to “get healthy” it starts with a doctor’s visit and probably some blood work. If you don’t actually get to the gym until February because of that, it’s okay. It’ll be less crowded then anyway.)**

End of Huh, New What?

Tags

2012, 2013, goals, life, new year, plans, reflecting, resolutions, writing

Yeah, I know it’s customary to do a navel-gazing end-of-year wrap up. I know it’s tradition to put one’s goals and plans and resolutions out into the universe. In lieu of that, it’s become common to doll out advice to others, be it funny or serious.

2012 and 2011 were the kind of years I’d rather not reminisce about too much. Aside from going to Bouchercon and meeting some fabulous people in person and taking a few small trips with the husband, it’s been a lot of meh if not downright blagh.

My sister and I got close again — probably closer than we’ve ever been since we were just far apart enough growing up to be leery of and annoyed by each other. That’s a good thing.

I helped put together Feeding Kate, which raised a bunch of money that Sabrina can choose to put toward surgery or the Lupus foundation, depending on what happens. I’m proud of helping put that together even if my story’s the weakest of the bunch.

Hubby and I had a fantastic anniversary. Sixteen years. That’s a thing, right there, right?

I don’t really do “resolutions.” It’s not that I’m a cynic. It’s that I know when I put things out there in the universe, they develop a sense of completed-ness that makes me never actually do them. Lists help me more. So, I’ve ordered a planner and to-do lists and a book about “Getting Things Done” that Steve Weddle swears by. Hopefully, all that will conspire to make me a better me in 2013.

I also ended up buying myself a Chromebook because after looking at every laptop, netbook, ultrabook, tablet, and portable computing doo-hickey on the market, I came to the conclusion that, for the money, it was the best fit. I need a portable typewriter. I already have a laptop with Photoshop and Dreamweaver and MS Office and iTunes and statistical packages from grad school and a million other software packages. I already have a phone that does internet and social media. Granted, the Chromebook is limited when not connected to the web, but as an offline typewriter? So far, so good. Will it replace my laptop? No way. Do I want to drag around a 12-pound laptop with a busted battery and a coolpad? Hell no. do I want to spend $1000 or more to replace said laptop, have to reload everything and learn a new operating system right now? No. No, I don’t. I wanted something that allows me to write more and cuts out a lot of the “typing up poorly-scribbled notes.”

So, I guess there’s one resolution, if you will. To write more. Since I started this back in November, it doesn’t feel “shiny and NEW,” but you get what you pay for and this blog’s free.

Hope you had a great new year’s eve and have a fantastic 2013, everyone.

 

Book Review: MIAMI BEAT by Jorge E. Goyanes

Tags

book review, crime fiction, cuban, joe castle, Jorge goyanes, Jose castillo, miami, miami beat, pulp

I picked up this book because it’s by a local guy and was in a local bookstore. Figured I’d support local people and whatnot. I also have a pile of Florida-set books I’m working  my way through. Figured I could add this one.

I hated it.

Sorry. I just did.

I know, however, that not all books are for all people, so let me explain. You might love it. It might be just what you need to keep you warm on cold nights. It might be your new favorite. But here is where I tell you why it’s not mine.

It’s written in a pulpy sort of style like something out of the forties or even sixties. It’s written like the sort of books I used to avoid for that very style. The bludgeon-you-with-description, egotistical, leading man and his tough-guy pals who banter with racial slurs and misogynistic “jokes” that come off as dated and boorish. I’ve come to accept it in books written back in the hey-day of pulp when that was considered acceptable — in the same way I can accept the language of Huckleberry Finn. And if the book were set back in the day, I could maybe accept some of it as a throwback, an intentional mimic. But references to Facebook and Twitter while still calling each other “Spic Boy” and saying things like “Buck is as queer as a three-dollar bill” or “how many fortunes, dynasties and countries had risen and fallen due to the whims of a woman?”

Look, I get there’s a certain amount of Cuban machismo embedded in this thing, but… It’s’ not for me.

Then, there’s the main character. I like one with a few warts (other than being a narrow-minded ass). I like one with problems (other than the “case” at hand). I don’t really care that much what the problems are. He/She can see dead people, be a zombie, a malfunctioning robot, an alcoholic, a drug addict, afflicted with bad genes, bad health, bad family members, have sleep apnea, too many ex-spouses, too many bills, too much acid reflux. Something. If he’s a guy with no real problems who loves himself — and it’s not just a surface reflex that hides his greater torment — he’s boring (to me, anyway). If he’s got a great girlfriend and happy-go-lucky buddies and a thriving business… I just find I don’t care. Sorry.

As a travel guide to Miami, it’s not bad. Hits on some of the better-known restaurants, lets on to the popular dishes and enough history to make you feel you’ve read a few of those metal plaques on a tour. And, while I suppose it has a local’s view of the weather, the guy doesn’t seem to ever be hot or cold or notice if it’s raining or sunny. Then again, I’ve only been in South Florida since the mid-90s. Maybe I’m still not fully acclimated.

Look, it’s a short little book and I’m sure it’s for someone. I’m just not that person. If you think it’s for you (and you’re in the US), I’ll be happy to send you my copy. Gotta clear out some of these book piles anyway.

Pros: Like a short tour of greater Miami with food and drink descriptions. The crime plot isn’t bad.

Cons: Misogynistic, pulpy writing style that didn’t seem to go with the modern-day setting. (Book might work better in Spanish, though I don’t know.)

Bottom line: If you need a short read and can overlook the style, give it a go. And if you’re the first one to ask, you can give it a go on me.