A Short Essay About the Dodo

I've been fascinated by the Dodo ever since I was a child. As a kid I knew dinosaurs and wooly mammoths were extinct because they lived so very very long ago.  But the idea of dodos living so close to our current timeline that there were still pieces of them in museums astounded me.  Of course now I know in modern times we've just been killing off animals left and right, but I was oblivious to this at the age of 7 and only dinosaurs and the dodo were never coming back.  Here is a list (with pictures) of extinctions in the last 100 years.

There's been a lot in the news lately about losing our rhinos, and there's a horribly depressing display about extinct species of tigers at my local zoo,  Makes me sad inside.  The extinction the planet would benefit the most from would be the extinction of people. We've made a damn mess of things.

Okay, so the Dodo!

The dodo was already a small population, residing only on the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean, near Madagascar.  It's a related to pigeon.  It's closest living relative is the Nicobar pigeon.  It was big--about 3 feet tall, and weighed between 20 and 50 lbs. It could not fly.

It was first discovered by the Western world in 1598 by Dutch sailors.  By 1662 it was dead...as a dodo.  We managed to wipe out an entire species of bird in SIXTY-FOUR years.  For a while people thought it was a myth and had never existed at all.  It was mostly hunted for its meat and killed off by animals introduced onto the island by Western sailors.  Assholes.

Which dodo is real? We'll never know because they're DEAD.

We don't actually know exactly what the dodo looked like. Artists' renditions vary widely and no one is sure how many of them were actually based off of living birds. I think we can safely go with 'weird-ass chicken.' When I was a kid I imagined there were stuffed dodos still tucked into closets in museums in Europe, but this is not the case. There hasn't been a stuffed dodo on display for centuries.

This is all that's left.

By the 19th century (when people started to realize how fucked up we are) the only soft-tissue remains of the dodo was a head from an old stuffed museum dodo (taken off display in roughly 1755) and foot.  We still have the head, which is kept under lock and key (I'm assuming) at Oxford University.  The foot went missing around 100 years ago.

No stuffed dodos left. Not even a feather. We have a few random bones from the specimens brought back to Europe while the dodo was still alive, but most of our dodo remains are subfossils (almost but not quite a fossil) excavated from a swamp in southern Mauritius.  It was excavated in the 1860's and in 2005.  The most complete skeleton collected in modern times was found in 1904.

The dodo lives on in human mythology thanks to a few fictional portrayals (Alice in Wonderland and of course the fantastically bizarre 1938 Warner Brothers cartoon 'Porky in Wackyland' being the most famous). It also stands as a mascot for all animals murdered to extinction by careless humans.

The dodo. Never forget.

Further Reading:

My Favorite Words

"F" seems to be my favorite sound. And I like lots of syllables.

Depression, Anxiety, and Vacationing Alone

It’s no secret to the world that I suffer from moderate depression, mild to moderate (depending on the day) anxiety, and severe introversion. There may be a touch of Aspie goodness thrown in there as well—it doesn’t seem worth the effort to find out though.  Sometimes, especially in the winter, it can get quite overwhelming and I start to feel like I’m a freak incapable of doing anything normal.  And when that happens, I know it’s time to do something a normal person would consider crazy.

Like hop a greyhound from Ohio to NYC for a weekend.

My mom doesn’t understand my love for big cities when I hate people.  She doesn’t understand me a lot though, extrovert that she is.  She thought I was a shy, quiet child when I was really just the opposite.  I could be annoyingly gregarious, took the lead whenever I was in my comfort zone (like with my girl scout troop), and openly greeted every new person I encountered (desperately seeking and never finding a kindred spirit).

Spring is in the works in Central Park

I love NYC.  Better yet, I love it alone.  The world sees it as a big, dangerous place, and I am not blind to this any more than I am when I’m downtown in my own city or in a bad neighborhood.  But just because you might get hurt is no reason not to do something. I love to explore these places at my own quiet, introverted pace.  I regale in getting lost and finding my way out again, of exploring a new place, reading every sign, looking into every shop window.  Just being is enough for me.

And it helps.  I get energy from going to the city.  I lost a lot of confidence over the long Seasonal Affective Disorder-filled winter. Overcoming my anxiety to cancel (by getting a non-refundable bus ticket), riding the bus and having encounters with the other passengers, and figuring out how to navigate Newark Penn was a real boost of confidence.  I could do all of these things without shying away from asking a stranger a question.  Without freaking out that I was taking the wrong train.
 Even if I did take the wrong train and end up in Scranton, I would be okay.

This time I stayed with a friend in New Jersey though I have also stayed in a hostel (fascinating if smelly and slightly uncomfortable) and once I tweeted my need for a place to stay and was offered couch space by an opera singer I had never met, based only on our mutual love for Amanda Palmer.  My mother can’t understand how I can do these things without sending myself into a decline, but I need to do this every year or two.  I once met a guy on the internet 100 miles from home because I needed the adventure.  (Turned out okay—we’re engaged now.)

My anxiety does all kinds of things that makes living difficult. I can’t drive a car.  Most types of jobs send me into crying fits on a regular basis and I can’t work full-time.  But I can travel by myself to NYC and spend the day wandering Central Park all alone and be happy as a clam.

I take a really, really bad picture...

I took my friend to see my favorite places—The Cloisters and The Met.  Of course she waited until we were there to tell me she thought art was boring, so I ignored the paintings and took her to see musical instruments, the Arms & Armor section, and the Egyptian wing—everything that she wouldn’t think of as traditional art, and hopefully enjoyed more.  After that we went to places I had yet to go and had always wanted to.  The Public Library was a bit of a letdown, but we got to see what we really wanted to see there—Winnie the Pooh!  We went to Grand Central simply to look at the building.  We ate pizza in a cruddy pizza place and sandwiches in a froufrou café.

But my second day in the city she had to work so I was on my own.  I spent three hours wandering around central park before making my way to the American Museum of Natural History, which I am afraid I cannot recommend, especially during the spring break season.  I expected children, but not exactly how many, and they were all running, yelling, and generally creating as much chaos as possible.  If I hadn’t paid $17 to get in I would have turned around and left.  Also, it’s VERY easy to sneak in without a ticket, so if you want to go anyway I’d try that route first, ‘cuz the kids will chase you away pretty quickly.

Stego Selfie!

I needed a strong cup of tea and a cookie the size of my face after that ordeal. New York is very capable of delivering such things, luckily.

I was only away for three days. Really that is enough for me.  I’m home now, happier than when I left, more confident and stronger.  I sit and remember that even though talking to customers can drive me to tears, I can navigate the biggest city in the country without fear, alone, (and without a smartphone too!) something most Ohio tourists would never dream of.  I talked to my fellow bus passengers during a delay.  I helped a German tourist find her train.  I even survived Newark, New Jersey, which is the scariest place I have ever experienced, and I’ve been to Texas.

I have an aunt that is so wrapped up in fear, depression and paranoia that she had never been further than a two hour drive from home. She’s never even stayed the night at someone else’s house or a hotel.  I’ve been places. Texas, Florida, Louisiana, New York, Virginia, North Carolina and even Canada. (Niagra Falls. Maybe that doesn’t count…) This summer my fiancé and I are going to Philadelphia to visit the greatest museum in the US—the Mutter Medical Museum!  I am not my aunt. I am strong despite my mental issues.

It’s worth it to leave your comfort zone and go out into the world. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes you spend the ten hours before you board your bus a nervous wreck in near-tears, but once you’re there its worth so much more than staying home and playing on Reddit.

A Story About Bunnies. (Mildly NSFL)

So my brother is...different.  He's a migrant farm worker, hobo, and all-around hippie.  Great guy, but doesn't bathe much.  This is a story about a conversation my brother and I had with my nephew, who was 5 at the time.

My brother's car is usually full of random scrap metal, tools, and general grime.  He also has a lovely collection of natural objects and pieces of dead animals.  One of these such bits was the skin of a domestic (read: pet) rabbit pinned to the ceiling over the driver's seat.

So it's a lovely summer day and we're having a bit of a cookout.  My nephew wandered over to the car and studied the rabbit skin.  "What's that?"

"It's a rabbit skin," my brother replied.  "I killed it and ate it."

This is 100% true.  My brother loves animals, but he also loves eating animals.  Apparently this rabbit's owner--not my brother--was bored of it so they decided to have lunch.  I heard it didn't taste very good, which is not a surprise, but he ate all of it, because he didn't want the rabbit's death to be in vain.  He also eats road kill and anything his dog catches.

Pets are not food. Unless you're my brother.

"Oh," my nephew said, not at all concerned about this.  "How?"

"We hit it in the head with a hammer."  (Again, true. I'm told it was fast and merciful.)

"I want to do that! My mom will cook it for me!"

And at this point I had to step in and interject. "Honey, you are never ever to kill an animal unless you plan on skinning and eating it yourself.  And your mom is not going to do it for you."  I paused, thinking of the kitten and puppy his parents had recently gotten him.  "And cats and dogs are NOT for eating. Do you understand? You are not allowed to eat the cat."

My nephew tilted his head and finally answered, "Okay!" And he wandered away.

This happened last summer and so far his pets are still alive, so I think he got the message.


Photo Credit: "Conejitos" by Jan.Roque

Weight Loss Journey #4

The last time I posted an update was last summer.  I was 141 and I set a new goal of 130 pounds instead of 135.

Well, I hit 135 back in late September and was 131ish at Christmas.  And I still have a long way to go. My new, new, NEW goal is 120, which I hope to hit by the end of May.

When you're heavy weight loss is easy.  When you have bad habits weight loss is easy.  Stop drinking soda, drop 20 lbs in two months.  Start at 350, and the weight seems to fall off overnight by dropping to a 2,000 calorie day.  Which is awesome, btw. All weight loss is a wonderful thing, regardless of how unhealthy your original weight is or how much you were eating beforehand.

I started at 166 at 5' 2" with a BMI of 30.4, which is like, 2 pounds into the obese category.  So while I was definitely big, I wasn't in the worst shape.  I started logging my calories and quickly discovered a few things.

I had to drop to 1350 calories a day to see a difference.
But the weight came off pretty easily.

I also discovered that my diet was actually in pretty good shape except for my irrational chocolate intake.  It's still hard for me to go more than a day without chocolate.  I found the biggest reason I had gained weight as an adult was because I'd eat a pan of brownies in 2 days, and a bag of Dove chocolates in 3 days.  I'd put double the amount of hot chocolate mix in my mug with lots of whipped cream.

I was eating only lean meat, drinking skim milk, and I gave up soda when I was 13.  I've never been big on salty, fatty snacks--it's always just been chocolate.

So my diet didn't change too much. Which is good for the purpose of long-term maintinence.

For the first 6 months or so the weight fell off at slightly over a pound a week.  But then it started to stagnate.  As you can see, the angle of the graph below shows me beginning to stall out in September.

Once I got down to a healthy BMI (which was in August) my weight loss rate took a huge nose-dive.  There are a couple reasons for this. One is that as you shrink, so does your calorie needs.

Your Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR) is the number of calories you burn by simply existing.  If you were in a coma, this is the number of calories your body would burn just breathing and keeping your blood flowing.  At my start weight my BMR was 1522 calories day.  Factoring in semi-sedentary lifestyle (cuz I'm a lazy ass) I needed 1826 calories a day to stay at 166.  So at 1300 calories I had a deficit of 500 calories a day, which made for a roughly 1 lb per week weight loss.

Being almost 40 lbs lighter makes a huge difference. My BMR is now 1353 and I only need 1623 calories a day to maintain my weight.  (FYI, these numbers are low because I am a shorty.  If you're a short woman who doesn't get a lot of exercise the standard 2000 calories a day is WAY too much for you.)  So now eating only 1200 calories I'm only at a 400 calorie deficit.

You see the problem. I'm now eating less but losing less.  Plus, slower weight loss means more frustration, which leads to more cheating.  I took all of November and December off because I was just do damn tired of the restriction.  Fortunately, I maintained even with all of the extra food floating around during the holidays.

At my 1-year mark, January 11, I started over again and I've lost another 4 lbs, but it's already bottomed out again.  7 more pounds to go.  I'm almost there.  I can taste it. But damn is it a long ride.

Current weight is 127.2.  Goal weight, 120.  So close. So damn close.

Discovering a Childhood Hero and When I became a Feminist

In the third grade (it might have been the fourth--I had the same teacher for both years) my teacher lead the class into the library.  There were dozens of biographies sitting out on one of the tables.  "Pick one," she said, "and write a paper on it."  (We also had to make a diorama.)

My eight or nine-year old eyes scanned the books.  George Washington.  Abraham Lincoln--all the big name presidents.  The Wright Brothers and Frederick Douglass.  The first book I was drawn to was Amelia Earhart, but I already knew everything about her because I had books on her at home.  I wanted to learn about someone new.

There was only one other woman in the pile for me to choose from.  Two books out of pretty much the entire 3rd grade reading level biography section of my school library.  I wanted to read about a girl and I wanted more of a choice than two freaking books.  If only I had been a braver, more vocal child I could have called out the librarian on this injustice.  Instead I took the one other girl from the pile, and I started to read.

Damn, she was fucking amazing.

Nellie Bly was a news reporter in the in the late 1800's and beyond.  At the age of 16, after writing a scathing letter to the editor over a mysogynistic column in the Pittsburgh Dispatch, she was invited by the editor to write her own piece for the paper.  This launched her into a career in journalism.

Her early work focused on the plights of women, but her male editors kept pushing her onto the fashion pages. She revolted by, at age 21, becoming a foreign correspondent.  She spent six months in Mexico before she had to flee the country over fear of arrest after speaking up for the rights of a jailed Mexican reporter.

She is most famous for two stunts.  In 1887 she feigned insanity and got herself locked up in a mental institution with the intent to expose the barbarous conditions there.  She spent ten days locked up, and the media hype, her articles, and her book on the experience, led to a complete reformation of how the mentally ill were treated.

Her second biggest accomplishment turned her into a star.  She had trading cards and a board game. A board game.  She vowed to travel around the world in less than 80 days, beating the time in the Jules Verne book.  She made it back to New York in 72 days, traveling alone for most of her trip.

She married in 1895 and retired from journalism, running her husband's company, the Iron Clad Manufacturing Co., after his death nine years later. The company ultimately failed. (I've read that it was her fault, but according to Wikipedia it was due to employees embezzeling money.)  During that time she was considered a well-known woman industrialist and she patented several designs of her own making.

In the early teens she went back to reporting and covered the Women's Suffrage Movement and WWI.  She died in 1922 at age 57 from pnemonia.

Nellie Bly blew my child-mind.  She was so cool, she was so strong and brave.  I wanted to be just like her.  She joined the ranks of my other childhood heroes, the aforementioned Amelia Earhart and Laura Ingalls Wilder.  There were no men on my list.  I admired these pioneering women because of their daring and strength, probably something I didn't feel I had a lot of as a severely introverted child.

It's interesting that two out of three of my childhood heroes were writers even though I didn't even consider becoming a writer myself until the age of twelve.  I'm not sure when I learned what a feminist was, and because I was in the Girl Scouts and had an awesome mom I always knew that girls could do anything, but I know I became a feminist that day I got pissed off at my lack of choices and chose Nellie Bly out of that pile of men.

Further Reading:

The Motivation Jar

Procrastination is my biggest flaw.  I hate doing things, even things I want to do, let alone things I need to do.  There's always another post on Reddit to read or another video on Youtube.  As you can see my blog posts here have varied from erratic to nonexistent.  Oops.

Motivation is a big problem for me.

So I stumbled on to this post on a weight loss blog (I'm still working on the weight loss thing, btw--it's going okay, but not great) and I've decided to give it a try.

Samantha of Sparkly and Slimming created a goal jar for the new year.  In it she's put things she wants to work on this year, big things she wants to focus on in 2-week increments.  Well, my attention span is too short for that, but I decided a 'daily goal jar' might not be a bad idea.

So here is my Motivation Jar.

They're mostly exercise, chores, and career stuff.  Things that need to be done that will be good for me.  Little things.  (Except for 'clean office.' That's gonna be a biggie.)  Little things that will make my life better.  "Add 5 items to the donate bag" is to help me de-clutter my life and decide what's really important.  Ditto "List 2 items on ebay."  

I have one slip that says "Move $20 into savings account and roll 2 rolls of change."  This will encourage me to save money.  There are lots of "Write 500 words" slips and "Write blog entry" slips. I need to do better with these things the most. The store I work at is going under and I really don't want to get a new job, so the more money-making things I can do the better off I will be.

Right now I've stagnated at 7 lbs away from my goal weight.  The exercise slips will hopefully help motivate me to move more every day, not just when I pull something out of the jar.  If this snow ever melts I'll add "Run around the block" to the jar.  I added 'no sugar' and 'no chocolate' to a lot of them because I've discovered I eat an obscene amount of sugar even when I'm watching my calories.  Its really, really bad. :/

The plan is to dip into it at least once a day, but also when I'm sitting around procrastinating for too long.  Spend an hour on Reddit?  Definitely time to hit the jar.

So this is it.  A new step to a better me.  First goal is "Write 500 words." Better get on that.