Ladies, Let's talk Leggings

I wasn't going to say anything.

In fact, I thought the ladies over at Go Fug Yourself (gofugyourself.typepad.com) have done a great job in their quest against the legging. I didn't think I needed to say anything.

But I must muse for a few moments on the legging.

I have no problem if a person wants to wear a dress in the winter time with a pair of leggings under it. I understand wanting to keep your legs warm but abhoring the itchier stocking. I understand wearing a pair of leggings underneath athletic shorts for the same reason.

I do not understand the idea that Leggings = Pants.

Perhaps this is a delicate subject. I have a problem with the tightness of the leggings. I have an issue with displaying your business while trying to act like you are in fact not displaying your business because you are in fact wearing pants. And while I might be ok with a person showing up to aerobics or ballet class in leggings, I have an issue with leggings-as-pants to class. It seems unseemly, a little inappropriate. And cold.

I sound so old. I know this, and yet I cannot back off. Leggings do not equal pants to me. What do you think?

Obesity

My friend Emily, a reporter in Bakersfield, California, has been working on a series about child obesity for the past year. Emily has spent hours with these children reporting on and interviewing them. She's gone to their schools, their homes, their competitions and sporting events. I think that what has come from it is a pretty special project. You can see it here:

www.bakersfield.com/weigheddown

I'd love to hear what you think! So would she, I'm sure. If you have a comment for her, I will pass it along.

(Em and I went to college together. She is an amazing journalist!)

I'm going to Iraq, y'all!

OK -- So maybe I'm not going to Iraq.

However, army brother is headed over to the sandbox for his first tour. My brother Donnie is currently stationed in Fairbanks, Alaska, but is apparently prepping for a September deployment. Here is a link to the story about the deployment:
http://newsminer.com/2007/12/19/10492/

Donnie and I were discussing a journalist who was embedded with his unit the last time his unit was in Iraq (Donnie wasn't yet with the unit). I mentioned casually that I should come with his unit and blog from the front.

Donnie said I should!

Now, I would be nothing but a hinderance in the desert. I am slow, I hate hot, I don't like sand, and I would probably be scared all the time. I also don't like public restrooms.

I told him that I would rather not be a hinderance to the operation. He suggested I stay in the vehicle! And perhaps help detain insurgents! I know CPR and first aid, so I'm totally qualified.

I've even got a name for the blog (are you ready for this?!): Brother in Arms.

7 random things about me

Hal at The_Common_Culinarian tagged me in a meme to list 7 random things about myself. As he is my husband, he was required to tag me. As I am extremely random, I am a good person to tag!

The rules are these:
Link to the person(s) that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
Share 7 random and/or weird things about yourself.
Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
(I don't think I know 7 people that have public blogs! Bummer, I need to meet more people. If you have a blog and you have found this blog, let me know who you are!)

My things:

1. I once had MTV calling me in regards to the "film" The Real Cancun. I have no idea how serious they were, but at one point in time they wanted a college journalist to be in the film interviewing the cast members, etc. They called around college newspapers asking for columnists a la Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City. We didn't have that, but as the features editor, I was the closest thing. Plus, I told them that I tended to cover the adult industry (my "porn beat" as my friends called it, consisted of interviews of an adult film actress, a former Playboy bunny who now talks about life with HIV, which she contracted before she was a bunny, the authors of "Worst Case Scenario Survival Guide: Sex and Dating" and several other rather tame projects, so don't think I am a total freak or anything), and they were pumped. They called me back twice!
   
2. I taught high school English for two years after I became a law school drop out. I loved, loved, loved my job and still talk to several of my most fav. kids. :) I also had to read several stories and novels that I myself did not read when I was a freshman in high school. (Great Expectations, anyone?)
   
3. I won an award for best general interest column in the Kentucky Intercollegiate Press Association for a column I wrote about my dog dying. You can read it Here.
   
4. In grad school, I am working on a project involving a framing analysis of a particular scandal. I'm interested in the ways the different parties involved in the scandal framed the problems and solutions of the scandal in various media outlets.
   
5. I wanted to be a vet when I was a kid, but was stopped because 1. I couldn't stand the sight of blood (as discovered when my brother cracked his head open during a game of "King of the Mountain") and 2. I didn't want to operate on dead dogs or put dogs to sleep. Looking back, another reason would be 3. I don't much like science or math, and the only C I got in college was in Biology. I would have failed Calc, but I dropped it before I could!
   
6. I think the most beautiful place I've ever been was the Cliffs of Mohr in Ireland (http://www.stewellington.com/Ireland/mohr.html), and I think the most sobering place (and perhaps the most powerful) I've been was Dachau Concentration Camp outside of Munich, Germany (http://www.kz-gedenkstaette-dachau.de/englisch/content/).
   
7. I have pretty much the coolest family ever. Seriously.
   

DWE and The DWE

Last summer, I started jogging a couple of days a week. I never jogged much more than a half a mile, but I wanted to do something, and my knees can't handle running much longer than that.

Well, it got cold, and running outside was not an option. (Never mind that running outside hasn't been an option for several months, and it hasn't been cold for that long...)

Monday I did something I kept saying I was going to do this year -- I went swimming.

I took a lap swim class in my last semester in college and lost 15 lbs. (I'm not sure if it was the class or the weird eating I did while working at the Herald-Leader, possibly a combination of both of those things and the fact that I worried constantly while I was working.) So I wanted to go back to doing some swimming. It's good for my knees and I enjoy it.

So I showed up to the pool Monday night and decided to take a deep water exercise (DWE) class. I have done it the past two nights and it has been absolutely fabulous! We wear buoyancy belts and water gloves and run around in the deep end while doing a variety of cardio and strength exercises. I even made Hal go with me tonight and he seemed to somewhat like it!

Well, that's DWE. So, what, you ask, is The DWE?

In our grad program, we research-oriented majors (our program has a professional track for those who want to be reporters but weren't journalism students in undergrad and a research/teaching track for those of us who want to do some sort of academia) have a special fondness for a professor whose name bears the initials D.W.

D.W. is a calm and quiet fellow (some might say soothing) who happens to be highly respected in the mass com field. He taught our methods course and this semester he is also teaching in an area that he has published extensively in -- Agenda-setting. I am taking this particular class, and I am extremely excited about it (and an envy of my friends who could not fit it into their schedules).

So last night when a classmate of mine and I were in the grad lounge looking at the group fitness classes, I said, "Hey, I could take DWE. What is DWE?"

She responded, "The [professor's name] Experience!"

We had quite the chuckle imagining our professor teaching deep water exercise and have since decided that our Guitar Hero Band will be called "The [professor's name] Experience."

Snapshots from Christmas 2: Rocking around the Christmas Tree

This year, my parents were able to find a Wii for my sister and brother.

In fact, they found two.

My mom was able to find a Wii in Ft. Myers, Florida, where my parents spend a considerable amount of time because my father works there every other week. Mom bought the Wii back in September because, if any of you have looked for a Wii, they don't tend to stick in stores for long.

Mom brought the Wii back to the condo, where my dad immediately opened it. They started playing and enjoyed it so much they decided that they didn't want to bring it home. So Mom started looking for another Wii.

She found one in Bloomington. After calling many GameStops, she discovered that one not even 5 minutes away from my apartment had just received a shipment. She called me (and woke me up from my nap!) and made me go get it for her.

Needless to say, the Wii was a huge success at Christmas. Hal and I were able to snag a Guitar Hero III for my parents' gift, not knowing that my mom had already purchased it for my sister. So we had two guitars on Christmas and were able to battle each other in a true contest of rock.

One picture says it all:

(Dad drops to his knees to rock out while battling Mom on Guitar Hero III.)

Snapshots from Christmas

Once, long ago, my family moved from my parents' first home on Price Ave. in Erlanger to Edgewood. I was ready to enter the third grade, which meant Donnie was entering first grade, Stephen was three and Jennie was two.

During the move, my mother carefully took one of her prized possessions and put it in my sister's car seat, buckling it in for safety. (On a safety note: Don't worry, my mother did not drive with my sister in the car without buckling her in. For proof: see Thanksgiving when Jennie was a baby, where her car seat went skidding off the seat as we turned into Oakbrook on the way to my grandmother's house. Oh, wait, maybe a bad example.)

The possession? Her Cookie Monster cookie jar.

The Cookie Moster cookie jar lived through the move (so did my sister, who was not with my mom at all during that particular car ride). However, it was not to last.

Stephen, the little coniver that he is, decided on day that he wanted cookies. Stephen is an entrepreneur, willing to devise new systems to deal with things.

At this time, story goes, Stephen was three or four. Instead of asking for cookies, he utilized the Lazy Susan cabinet as a ladder to climb up closer to the cookie jar, which he immediately (and accidentally) pulled to the grown and smashed into a million pieces (for more Stephen the troublemaker stories, see "money stolen to buy from ice cream man" or "why little girls who can't sing shouldn't: my first experience with booing").

Mom has never forgiven him for the Cookie Monster debacle.

This Christmas, Stephen hit one out of the park, and found for my mother a replica Cookie Monster cookie jar!

All of us had known about this exercise in brilliant present giving for many months, but mom had no clue. We were very excited to watch her open the present. Her expression says it all:

As if that expression of joy and glee isn't enough for you, here is a picture of the jar itself:

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, being home brought lots of fun pictures that I am only now uploading. I will try to post a few for the next couple of days.