That is some cognitively impaired shit

My flagrant use of the word retarded has come up in a lot in the past month or so. Most recently, in correspondence with BlogHer. I was like, “Hey! How come I’m never in the headlines?” And they were like, “To be blunt it’s because you use offensive language like retarded.” Sweetpea that’s not blunt that’s just fact. Blunt would be like, no one would ever read your blog so we don’t even bother. But I appreciated the honesty.

People are often surprised to learn I work with retar cognitively impaired* people. Like you become some righteous asshole as soon as you start the job or something. I (mostly) love it but here are some adjectives that would also accurately describe my day

  • frustrating
  • extremely frustrating
  • gross
  • confusing
  • irritating
  • boring
  • limiting
  • excrutiating
  • and on and on

So yeah, I need to be able to have a sense of humor about it. The funny part about me saying retarded is the fact that my clients are constantly saying it. They even call each other retarded. But not in like a mentally challenged way, they use it like we use it. I’m not really defending myself because you’re going to be offended if you’re going to be offended and I’m just going to keep on saying it. I’m just giving you some context, yeah you. You know who you are.

I’m totally in the Mimi Smartypants boat on this one. I think she said something like, “If we can’t use retarded to speak about actual retarded people can’t we use it for the rest of us?” She’s getting at the fact that it should be obvious we aren’t referring to a “special” person when we say retarded. And honestly, any euphemism is equally if not more offensive. How often have you heard someone say special, slow or simple with quotes around it?

When I called my cat retarded, it would have been rude to call her cognitively impaired or whatever the nicety of the moment is. Wouldn’t that be rude to people who are actually dealing with a disability? Not only to the person with a disability but to their family. They aren’t helping a retard they’re caring for a person with a disability. Often families spend all their time and money caring for this one person and comparing my dumb cat to that is um stupid.**  Because my cat is (probably) not cognitively impaired but she is definitely retarded.

Retarded means impeded in some way. Here are some retarded sentences

  • Getting home is being retarded by all this traffic
  • I’m retarding the growth of my 401(k) by buying all these drugs
  • My cat just tried to run outside but was retarded by the screen

Do you see my point? Are we going to start coming up with PC ways to say fire retardant? Because that would be retarded.

Personally, I’d like to see the other blogs BlogHer isn’t linking to because of their offensive content. Not that there’s anything wrong with the ones they are linking to, I’ve just seen them all already.

*And jeez you can’t even use any of the ambiguous words you think are correct because you probably don’t even know what the persons disability is. How would you like it of you had a completely normal mind but were called cognitively impaired or mentally challenged because you used a wheelchair or had a speech impediment? Or if your disability has nothing to do with your development but people insisted on calling you developmentally delayed?

**Much like the time I was talking to this woman and accidentally compared the vet losing my cats ashes to when she went in for surgery and woke up to realize they had performed an unauthorized abortion. Do you see how ridiculous that is? We can’t allow this to continue.

[tags]retarded, working with the disabled, my cat is dumb, the dss, tact is for the unwitty[/tags]

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My little vegetarian

TBU’s mom just got married in Tahoe this weekend. We had a cabin right on the beach, it was really stunning. I had a great time. But that’s not what this post is about. This post is about me being a vegetarian.

The thing about eating with a bunch of other people, especially new people, is that I inevitably end up explaining myself. “No, thank you” to a meat dish eventually becomes, “I’m vegetarian” or “I don’t eat meat” on the third try. Sometimes TBU will say it for me, just to get it out already. Oh! you’re a vegetarian? Their eyes get wide with fake enthusiasm. Do you eat chicken? No. Do you eat shrimp? No. Do you eat fish? No. Well, you’re the real thing aren’t you?

Well I wouldn’t be a vegetarian if I ate meat now would I?

There was a barbeque Friday night but I figured there would be plenty of other stuff. Like MC Chris, I prefer the whore derves. Don’t click that link, that song is fucking foul. TBU’s family and his moms, husbands family were all there. Friday night was the first meal we all had together. Everyone got their questions out of the way, and it was fine.

Saturday morning, we had brunch together. It was more like ordering a bunch of sandwiches at Safeway and eating them on the beach. But there are no vegetarian sandwiches. I eat some almonds and some trail mix and look around for things I could make a meal of. There wasn’t really anything unless I wanted a meals worth of juice and chips. And this is where it gets annoying. An uncle suggests I “just take the meat off.” I wasn’t rude but I said, “It doesn’t really work that way.” He smiled and nodded. Sweet TBU asked his mom if there were any vegetarian sandwiches but made the mistake of asking in front of everybody. People were perplexed, “There’s nothing you can eat in there?” I wonder if they would like a whole meal of juice and chips. TBU’s mom solves the problem with, “You can just take the meat off and eat the rest!” I say thanks but that’s not really an option. I know everyone means well but for fuck’s sake, think about it for a second. A new step-brother suggests I eat the veggie sushi in the fridge. Now this was the first viable option. But unfortunately, sushi, especially grocery store sushi, tends to have super glutenous rice which gives me a headache. So it wasn’t actually an option but at least he was on the right track.

By this point I’ve just decided to go get something on my own. It’s not a big deal. I don’t expect to be catered to, even if I wasn’t a vegetarian. But the act of refusing someone’s food doesn’t feel good. I feel like the message I send to other people is, “This food doesn’t meet my high ethical standards. You can eat it, but I will not.” I suspect it makes other people feel bad too, or at least a little awkward. TBU’s mom was genuinely apologetic for not remembering to get me something. It was her wedding celebration and I felt terrible for making her feel that way. I know some people are self conscious eating meat around me. That’s not what I’m all about. I make my decisions for me and don’t expect others to follow. Of course, I would love it if everyone were vegetarian or the world supply of meat was produced by humane practices. But I can only control myself and even that’s a little much.

On the way to get my food, tears welled in my eyes. I don’t really know why. I know I was feeling frustrated and a little embarrassed and maybe a little looked over. After all, I had to wait 2 hours so TBU could do his videography duties. But really, I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was that made me cry. But it was strong and barely subsided by the time we got to the taqueria.

Hours after everyone eats their brunch. And TBU has videotaped the grandkids on the sand. I finally get to eat. This only draws more attention from everyone. I’m sitting there all alone, eating my special meal.

Later that night, after the ceremony we go to the Hyatt’s super classy restaurant for dinner. And here is where I get pissed. The only item on the menu without animal was pasta. FUCKING PASTA. I can make that shit at home. I don’t worry though because this is a classy joint with a real live chef and I’m sure there is something else I can find out about if I just ask the server. I do and she pauses, finally letting out a long, “Weeeell,” followed by, “I guess you can have like a plate of grilled vegetables?” I am just kinda flabbergasted that there is no vegetarian plate that can be made. Even if it was just a bunch of sides like mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables and something else. Like really? I’m used to the obligatory veggie burger at diners and shit. But the fucking Hyatt at Tahoe can’t make anything other than pasta?! I order the pasta before anyone wonders why I’m taking up so much of the servers time.

The pasta comes with a fat chunk of goat cheese on it. I love cheese so I try it. Goat cheese tastes more like goat than cheese. So I moved it to the corner of my plate. A new step brother notices and says, “Oh you don’t eat cheese?” I say I just didn’t like the goat cheese. But I knew what he meant. I may be super sensitive but after the mornings vegetarian sandwich fiasco and the previous night’s dinner, I’m convinced it was a comment on my perceived finicky-ness. Oh how I wish he only knew!

Dinner moves along, the server comes by and yells, “Hows my little vegetarian? Did you get enough to eat?” The table turns to me as I smile and say, “Yes, thank you.” But her comment encompasses the most annoying things people can say to me. “Little” just implies I’m a child going through a phase. Like Lisa Simpson or something. And asking if I got enough to eat shows how uninformed most people are about being a vegetarian. Vegetarians have a plethora of meal options. It is a vast, vast field of yummy options. I swear to god, I never had such tasty food when I was eating meat. A meal without meat is just as filling as one with it. The plate came with at least 2 pounds of pasta. Did she honestly think I wasn’t getting enough to eat? Oh must eat everything in sight to satiate my poor vegetarian stomach! And her delivery made me violent inside.

I always go into a situation like this with the idea that I will somehow be stealth enough so others won’t notice, that I won’t have to explain things or answer any dumb questions. I never try to make people feel bad for eating meat, I don’t know why they need to say shit about me not eating it. I don’t draw their attention to the fucking disgusting conditions their decomposing flesh came from and what it will do to their digestive tract. Meat is their decision and I’m not preaching to anyone. But vegetarianism is a common and well-established diet. I am fucking tired of going into restaurants (it’s not like I go to fucking steakhouses or anything) and having to order the one shitty vegetarian option on the menu. Hey! just because I don’t eat meat doesn’t mean I want imitation meat! Your veggie burgers suck. I also hate having to make a bunch of changes to my order. Can’t we just have a salad entree without animal on it?

Eating at peoples homes is different. People only serve what they eat and believe their guests will enjoy. I can’t expect everyone to eat what I eat.

I decided to become vegetarian in an honest attempt at leading a life that was true to my ideals. Not so I could draw attention to it, make people feel guilty or be an example. I never once thought it would be so trying. It’s a delicate balance I never realized I would be forced to navigate.

My opinions they run amok, sorry for the length.

[tags]Lake Tahoe, vegetarian, vegetarianism, Hyatt[/tags]

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Real quick, guys

Life is so hard. It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t have to work for everything.

::violin::

I almost cried in my chemistry class tonight. I forced myself to keep it together. Note to self: do not take 9 units, work full time and expect 8 hours of sleep each night. I left in the middle of lecture to take a lap. I managed to convince myself that once I walked back into the room I would understand everything. And you know what? I understood it a lot better when I sat down. The problem with chemistry is that it’s made up. Like Tolkien’s language, it’s documented and everything, but it’s not really real. That’s not science, it’s science fiction.

My teacher is kind of a prick too. He doesn’t do test reviews. He plows through a chapter a week and the examples he does on the board are straight from the book. He’ll answer any questions you want, but you have to understand it well enough to have a question. Argh.

Oh, now for the real reason I logged in. I got my hair done in SD last week and my hairdresser told me that the review I wrote of him on Yelp brought him no less than 5 new customers. People were walking in and asking for Fred the cock sling guy by name! So rad. It’s funny when you write stuff on the internet and it gets back to you. When I write I assume no one reads it. It’s more fun that way. Except I do lose sleep over the possibility of my mom reading this. She has a sense of humor but jeebus.

BTW my moms dog is uh-dor-uble. Oh jeez she’s fucking cute. Even when she’s shitting on the carpet she’s cute. She has a little rubber dumbbell she runs around with. Imagine the smallest dog you possibly can. Now imagine it has a red mini dumbbell hanging out of it’s mouth while it runs manically around your feet. It’s what love is made of.

One more thing. Teebs bought our tickets to Canadia today. This summer, a white Mexican girl goes North. A story that will have you laughing. The most heartfelt movie you will see this year. I dunno if you got that that was supposed to be in the movie announcer voice. But yeah Canadia! I’ve never been. I’ve considered a blind emigration. TBU has advised against this. He says it’s all sweaty glasses of lemonade and fun in the lake during the summer but come winter I will be begging to be back in the USSA. He also says that Canadia may have good PR but this North American Union bullfuckingshit just makes it the Northern US.*

TBU also says that it is my bedtime. Just kidding! I am a big girl. Seriously, though he’s right. But we’ll get free health care for our frostbite.

*I don’t call the US “America.” You know why? Because America is a continent/hemispheric designation. If we can be called America, so can Canadia, or Mexico or any individual country in Central or South America. We are not two fucking continents, people. I hate to be the one to tell you. I also hate people who say they “could care less” for similarly observant reasons. I won’t explain that one to you yet. I’m going to let you stew on it and if you still need an explanation in a couple days, fine.

The US/America thing is not only a nitpicky thing, it’s also a Hispanic political thing. Referring the the US as America subtly invalidates the numerous other countries of the Americas, the majority of which, are Latin. I want to go on about how Latin isn’t even a totally accepted designation either, but I can’t. The Millz walks a tight rope of identity every day. Do we all do this? I can’t help but think other people don’t obsess about their self identity vs. cultural identity vs. social identity. Another day, another post. The Teebs was right, it’s getting close to my bedtime.

The Millz did not make this real quick, guys

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