"Each new day a bullet—each victim someone's son"

So, there's another push for immigration reform. This is one of those issues that I believe is the result of ignorance in most people and down-right greed in others.
Both the argument that the United States has a moral responsibility, as a rich country, to employ unfortunate undocumented workers who need to provide for their families and the argument that Americans will not take the nasty jobs that illegal immigrants are willing to take result in horrible abuse of those who, after all, are just as human as the United States' citizens and legal residents.
The fact is, with little to no enforcement of lax laws and the general acquiescence of the public, employers see a profitable advantage to hiring illegal immigrants. Since they are undocumented, these workers are not subject to requirements for minimum wage, benefits, overtime, holidays, worker's compensation, safe working conditions, or any of the other costly standards set for businesses in our country.
So, sure—illegal immigrants are pushing legal residents and citizens out of certain industries, like construction, in many parts of the country. Documented workers cannot compete against the lure of more profit.
Churches in México have a special wall covered with photographs of people who traveled north and were never heard from again. Most of the Mexicans I talked to in Guanajuato wanted their government to promote jobs in México instead of relying on the billions sent home by those who did make it to the States alive.
Strengthening enforcement and penalties against American businesses that hire undocumented workers would not only discourage illegal immigration by taking away the reward, it would restore a little more human decency to our country. Those who take advantage of the destitute would be punished accordingly. Ever wonder who finances the movements against immigration reform? Me, too.

Fortunate

Through a happy stroke of nepotism at its best, I have secured a desirable post for the summer that will leave me, at August's close, with a considerable sum of hardly-earned money. My penny-pinching superego, bred into me from first memory, is urging me to let over half of it collect .5% interest at the credit union while the rest covers my moderate expenses next year. However, Lily Bart of The House of Mirth has alerted me to another course: using this money to marry money.
I am not unaware of certain wealthy enclaves in the world of off-campus housing. In fact, I used to be acquainted with several young women who were destined for those shining condos and tasteful lofts with windows as wide as one wall of my bedroom. They never did show any sign of continuing their relationships with me once I was removed from their immediate presence, but then I never cared for them beyond idle conversation.
But—what if I were to spend the entire amount of my summer windfall over the next semesters? Instead of using my meager earnings from tutoring for pocket money, I would have a couple thousand at my disposal. I would rent one of the apartments that affect awe when the address is spoken; I would dress and dye my way into the elite. After all, the more affluent circles are not solely populated by women…
I am sure I could just as easily fall in love with a rich man as I could a poor one. Just think how much I could write if I paid people to take care of the details of life like cleaning the house and driving the children to soccer practice.
Too bad these things never end happily when Edith Wharton writes them.

Gravedigger

Why do people here have to be so darn polite? They pepper their conversations with "I'm sorry", "Just kidding", and "How are you?", but they never actually show that they feel anything. It's like everyone is on lithium.
Why is it crazy to not express any sort of feeling beyond mild enthusiasm? Isn't it crazier to suppress perfectly healthy emotions?
For the past three months, not to mention last semester, I have tried to make my face cold as a gravestone, and to bury any momentary frustration, anger, doubt, attraction, joy, apprehension, excitement, or misery behind it. Instead of having an emotion over and done with in an instant, I shoved so many into the dark earth that the grave is bulging. The rising dead are choking me with bursts of acid in my mouth. At this point I can only stare dully at a wall or screen; anything else risks an explosion.
I want to scream and cry and leap and sing and break things and embrace three months worth of disinterred passion! The other gravestones would commit me—I'd say feelings don't make you crazy, hiding them does.

Forbidden Fruit

Oh, bitter Unripe One—
fascinating
on a dull silver Platter of
softly-spoiled Over-Sweet.

Untouchable Safety—
fragile Babe
glimpsed in the Womb
Years before Birth.

Not yet cemented in Purpose—
queued at the Kiln
to refine and set
in Preparation for Sale.

Teasing dewy Eyes—
above which
Locks of shiny Hair still
conceal the Nakedness of your Head.

© Bethylene, 2006

Procrastination hurts—and I'm just gonna do it again.

Sliding down from an adrenaline rush, I am exhausted and nauseated. I keep putting off everything until I have to push important things aside for the urgent people-counting-on-me, can't-lose-my-job stuff. But why change what works? In thirty years, I'll still be relaxing until a second into the last minute. Then I will have a heart-attack and die.
The worst thing is—I think I let someone down today because of my procrastination. She needed my help and I slacked too long to give her my full attention. Usually, I don't drag anyone else into my personal procrastination purgatory.
Now, I need to write an explication of Œdipus Rex, The Importance of Being Earnest, Hamlet, or Death of a Salesman for tomorrow. I think I'll go take a shower.
I'm a glutton for punishment.

Ugg Boots Are Ugly

I have no respect for a man who likes me. There are so many beautiful, kind, non-annoying women out there: a man who asks me out obviously does not have enough confidence to ask one of the great women out and is settling for me.
The Belching One says that some guys do not like beautiful, kind, and non-annoying. I say that a guy who does not like beautiful, kind, and non-annoying has a serious defect.
I do not like a man with a serious defect or self-doubt. I guess that is Reason #232.

No one can say they didn't know it was coming…

I was frustrated enough when those campaigning for gay marriage cited the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s as their precedent—like Martin Luther King Jr. would ever support gay marriage or like the struggle to make all of God's children equal under the law is in anyway similar to creating a new law that is in strict opposition to God's law.
Now, according to another Newsweek article that popped up on Hotmail, polygamous groups are trying to ride the wave of same-sex marriage advocacy to have their practices legalized. In a way, I can see the logic behind this: when it is considered appropriate for respected artists to father twelve children by seven different women and for two women to marry each other, why not polygamous unions?
And, it's not just people who call themselves Mormons anymore. According to the article, Muslim and evangelical Christian polygamists may outnumber the so-called Mormon ones in the United States. This really surprised me since as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I am a little sensitive to issues about polygamy. Polygamists are not members of my church, but they are often called Mormon which is confusing since members of my church usually call themselves Mormon as well (it's a lot shorter than "a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints").
Civil marriage is beginning to lose any clear significance. Even though I am definitely against both same-sex marriage and polygamy, I'm starting to wonder: why not? If marriage is just a piece of paper from the courthouse, who cares who's filling it out and with whom?

Only Shirley Temple Cries Pretty

Today, two of the roomies and I climbed on one of our ward's charter buses and rode up to Salt Lake City. Despite the humidity, which I maintain was very high compared to Utah's usual desert conditions, the air was cold on my bare toes and cheap-sweatshirt-clad arms. We spent an hour wandering around a ghost mall before deciding to eat in the warm Lion House Pantry, which serves warm comfort-food cafeteria-style in a pioneer-era house.
Then we rejoined everyone from church to see the new film playing at the Legacy Theater, Joseph Smith The Prophet of the Restoration. Never before has the humanity of Joseph Smith struck me so strongly. Yes, he spoke with God, but so can everyone else when we pray. He restored the Gospel that Christ established two thousand years ago, but Joseph Smith also had a real family, real friends, real responsibilities. It is amazing that he could even do what he did in the face of not just opposition, but life. I can barely remember to feed myself; yet, this man organized a church that has grown to fill the entire world.
I teared up when Alvin entered the room in the third scene and bawled like a baby through the rest of it. At least I really am not emotionally barren, but is that a good thing? Shirley Temple is the only person who has ever wept beautifully, but in her memoir she said she felt like freak because her nose did not turn red and run when she cried. I guess we've all got our little problems.
Although the entire movie was incredibly powerful, I have to admit that my favorite part of the picture was how it portrayed Joseph and Emma's relationship. He really treated her like an equal partner in their marriage. She went through hell as her husband was tarred, imprisoned, called away from home to help other families, and eventually murdered. Whatever situation my future husband and I find ourselves in, I hope that we could do those things for each other. How could I settle for less?
Which is Reason #231 that I am going to die alone.

Update

It cost me $35.49 to print two double-spaced and two 10-font single-spaced manuscripts at the print shop today. They came out of a gigantic printer that spits out 120 pages a minute. 120 pages! Wow.
Anyway, the people at the Publishing Lab basically sit around and talk all day. I was the only client there during a two-hour period today. They were both helpful and not—I suppose I should not expect too much for a free service (free for me, I mean). Now I have to go through an enormous list of publishing houses, presses, and agents and find some to query. Most agencies respond faster than publishers, so I guess I'll just take my chances. But, what address should I put on my SASE? I'm moving out of here in a month, so maybe I should have them sent to my aunt's? Or my parents?
Publishers should be more considerate towards transient authoresses.
I had a long conversation with The Artiste One and Allie today. It motivated me to fret about the Golden Apple and an Invisible Heaven. I need to write it! Especially since then, certain good-looking publishing-lab-people will not look at me weird when I tell them the genre of my book. There is nothing wrong with romance if it's well-written! And it's not an LDS romance, okay?! I'd rather die than write one of those.
Anyway, the Golden Apple and an Invisible Heaven is, or will be, a post-Modernist Pacific Northwestern literary novel with an anti-hero and a foil and moral relativity and everything. That's so hot on The Oregonian's book reviews right now.

Do you work to live or live to work?

Photo credit goes to whoever took this ubiquitous picture.

Somewhere on the sparkling Pacific coast of Mexico lived a fisherman named Raúl. His wife and three sons lived with him in a small hut he had built with his own hands. Daily, this man rowed out to sea and fished just long enough to catch 24-hours worth of sustenance for his family. After that, Raúl would row back to shore, carry the fish to his wife, and spend the rest of the day lazing around on the beach.
An American businessman vacationing nearby once approached Raúl and shook his head. "You are a very talented fisher," the businessman said, opening his critique with a compliment, "but why do you only catch fish for your family? Don't you know that if you worked a little harder, you'd have a surplus to sell for profit?" The businessman's eyes glimmered with the possibilities, "You could use some of that profit to hire employees, buy bigger boats—why, once your operation got large enough, you could just lie back and let the money roll in!"
The fisherman tilted his head to the side; he wondered if it was entirely healthy for the businessman to hyperventilate in that way. "Why should I work so hard to someday relax with my family when I can do that now?" Raúl laid his head back down on the sand and sighed with content.

Pearls of Wisdom from My Extensive Collection of Virginal Make-out Music

Love burns brighter than sunshine – Matt Hales (a.k.a. Aqualung)

If you love somebody and bite your tongue, all you'll get is a mouthful of blood – The Fruit Bats

Vows are spoken to be broken. Feelings are intense: words are trivial … All I ever needed is here in my arms: words are very unnecessary; they can only do harm – Depeche Mode

Diamonds, they fade, and flowers, they bloom; and I'm telling you: these feelings won't go away; they've been knocking me sideways – Clarence Greenwood (a.k.a. Citizen Cope)

Oh, adhere to me, for we are bound by symmetry – The Decemberists

I will die with both my hands untied – Morrissey

Don’t you know, at your fingertips arrayed, there’s a universe of atoms that thinks you’re real something? Don’t you know, in this new dark age, we’re all light? – XTC

You said something stupid like, "Love steals us from loneliness." Happy birthday, are you lonely yet? – Idlewild

The fallen are the virtuous among us, walk among us; if you judge us, we're all damned – Franz Ferdinand

Love is not a victory march; it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah – Rufus Wainwright

This could be the very minute I'm aware I'm alive: all these places feel like home – Snow Patrol

We know of an ancient radiation that haunts dismembered constellations, a faintly glimmering radio station – Cake

I have to speculate that God himself did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle-pieces from the clay – The Postal Service

Questions of science, science and progress, do not speak as loud as my heart – Coldplay

Portraits hung in empty halls, frameless heads on nameless walls, with eyes that watch the world and can't forget – Don McLean

You smile like a saint, but you curse like a sailor, and your eyes say the joke's on me – Chris Carrabba (a.k.a. Dashboard Confessional)

How can we dance when our earth is turning? And how do we sleep while our beds are burning? – Midnight Oil

I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, that the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had – Gary Jules

The actors did their best to lay some worth on every word, like coffins dropped into the earth: the saddest song we've ever heard – Bright Eyes

Another Boring Foray onto the Tilt-A-Whirl of My Life

This weekend has been so weird that I can only express my impressions of it in a disordered list of gerundial phrases: inferring implication—bloating snowflake—disquieting father-talk—vomiting roommate—whispering orator—swelling cup-size—sparkling bedroom—exciting lip-spike—twirling breaker-crew—stimulating medication—shivering impatience—buckling reporter—alienating revelation—jiving airline—crooning Briton—mutating language—scheduling frustration—mouldering cornbread—gathering homework—stagnating blog—racing uncertainty—fascinating pedestal-topper—rising Jezebel—falling bread-dough—bubbling luncheon—faltering sarcasm.

America rotting from inside and other small matters

So, I did enjoy reading a story about West-Coasters rejecting gigantic ugliness—though whether the real deterrent for Wal-Mart is snobbishness or land prices remains to be seen. I do know that I have never actually seen a Super megastore (Wal-Mart Supercenter, Super-Target, etc.) on the West Coast. They might be inland, but in my travels through Temecula, Stockton, Sacramento, Medford, and such, I have never seen one. Everyone I know still shops at grocery stores for their food, and some of them even go to the produce and farmer's markets for produce. According to this Slate article, that is because land is too expensive. In fact, where I live, the closest (non-Super) Wal-Mart is pretty darn far away and under a highway overpass. Of course, there's a rumor that they bought part of an old gravel pit in Booneyville (i.e. near my house)—and I would not know about it because I have not been there for a while and my mother knows better than to tell me about these things. That would be disgusting.
Anyway, what brought on this tirade was the same Slate article about Wal-Mart v. Tesco: Tesco, a British grocery chain that I know about from such illustrious sources as Something Rotten and "The Fallen", is opening stores in Southern California. They will be Express Tescos, small grocery stores the size of convenience marts. On the other hand, Wal-Mart's Neighborhood Markets, the scaled-down versions of Wal-Mart that focus on groceries and pharmacy products, are almost as big as Tesco's largest super-stores (called Extra) in the UK. According to the Slate article, all 546 Tesco Express stores in the UK would take up as much space as six Wal-Mart Supercenters. That's just sick. Anyway, another article about American largess has also come to my attention: "Why can't Americans save a dime?". Last year, people in the United States saved at a rate of -.5%. That's negative. I'm not sure how a savings rate can be negative, but I'm pretty sure it's a bad thing. The last time our savings rate was negative: the Great Depression. Nice, huh? Everyone wants to live a successful lifestyle before actually becoming successful. And they are relying on the government to bail them out if they drive themselves to destitution. Guess what, everyone: the government is in debt too! Are we rotting from the inside? You betcha!

The Rise and Fall of the Artificial Breast

Kelly A. desperately wanted to be beautiful; “I like nothing about my body,” she lamented in front of FOX’s The Swan camera crew, pulling and pinching at her skin. Her perceived ugliness had invaded every part of her life; to Kelly, her looks were holding her back from becoming the sexy, confident woman she always imagined being. Unlike most women who are unsatisfied with their bodies, Kelly had the opportunity to pick from a smorgäsbord of plastic surgery procedures – a way to boost her self-esteem by making her beautiful on the outside. As anyone who watched the controversial show might remember, the new body parts she was most proud of were her gigantic breast implants. “Look at my boobies!” she squealed on reveal day (“Premiere”). But how long will her elation last? Cosmetic surgeons have been touting the psychological and emotional benefits of their services for years, but recent studies have revealed that their claims are shaky at best. Surgeons run the risk of exacerbating a condition called body dysmorphic disorder with every cosmetic procedure they perform; however, breast augmentation is linked to more suicides than even other plastic surgeries. The complications that eventually result from breast implants and the reasons women choose them combine to create more emotional problems than they are purported to solve.
Plastic surgery, including breast augmentation, has become more and more prevalent in mainstream society, so much so that even the Mona Lisa is considering an extreme makeover. The procedure for breast augmentation is not new, though the long-term studies are. As experienced plastic surgeon Dr. Paula Moynahan demonstrates, French dentist Pierre Fauchard first attempted crude augmentation mammaplasty in the 1500s – implanting paraffin. Modern breast augmentation evolved in the 1960s, using materials like plastic foam and Teflon (113-4). Silicone breast implants followed soon after, with the Food and Drug Administration stepping in to referee in 1976 (Angell 2). Silicone-filled implants came under suspicion of causing cancers and autoimmune diseases; they were banned from all but experimental implantation in 1992 (Angell 3). The new implant of choice is a silicone sac that is pumped full of sterile saline solution after it is inserted into the patient.
These saline implants can be inserted in three different ways, but the end result is basically the same: fuller-looking breasts. Most women are initially happy with their procedure for the first few months or years if it is performed correctly, maybe noticing cold, numbness or pain which can interfere with daily activity, but the implants look great (“How You’ll Look” 1). Although breast implants are usually sold as permanent devices, the truth is the quality of the implant only deteriorates over time. Eventually all augmentation mammaplasty patients are faced with nasty-sounding disorders like capsular contracture, extrusion, wrinkling, tissue atrophy, and necrosis (US FDA 1, 3).
The United States Food and Drug Administration has published a “Breast Implant Risks Brochure” detailing many of the common implant malfunctions. Capsular contracture is a relatively common condition characterized by scar tissue tightening around the implant a few years after the surgery. The results are hard, distorted breasts that can be very painful. Surgeons can try to remove the tissue or even replace the implant, but the condition may return. If the tissue around a woman’s implants is weak or the surgical incisions do not heal correctly, the implant might actually begin to work its way out of the skin, a serious condition called extrusion requiring surgery that can result in horrific scars. Sometimes just the sheer presence of implants can cause normal breast tissue to atrophy, or dissolve, during the time they are implanted or after they are removed. Necrosis occurs when the tissue around an implant dies completely (1-3).
When faced with complications like this, most women should feel lucky if they only experience eventual deflation. Yet, even if nothing else goes wrong with the implant during or after surgery, “normal aging of the implant” causes the saline or silicone-filled sac to eventually rupture, leaking its contents into the woman’s body (US FDA 2). This is particularly worrisome with silicone implants because instead of being absorbed like saline, the filling migrates out of the breast to create hard little lumps of silicone in the chest cavity. After the rupture of either type of implant, the patient must pay for another surgery to have the offending implant removed, and if she does not also replace it, her stretched-out breasts will be sagging and deformed.
With a typical breast implantation costing around $6000, all those new surgeries just might not be possible for many women, so their physical and emotional condition worsens. Ilena Rosenthal, author of Breast Implants: The Myths, The Facts, The Women, contends that the pain and depression caused by this inability to fix what is wrong with them, can lead to suicide (1). The study that opened the debate over the implant-suicide connection was published last year by a group of five acclaimed European researchers led by V. C. M. Koot of the Netherlands. They looked at 3,521 Swedish women who had received breast implants at safe hospitals for purely cosmetic reasons, not to replace what was lost to breast cancer. Factoring in the normal suicide rate for Swedish women of the same age, the researchers were surprised to find that “Fifteen women committed suicide, compared with 5.2 expected deaths” (Koot et al 1-2). According to the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, 280,401 women in the United States received breast augmentation in 2003 (“A Guide” 1), if Koot el al’s findings hold up in larger groups around the world, 1,195 of those women might eventually take their own lives!
To their credit, responsible plastic surgery journals have been trying to combat this problem by telling their readers to perform more thorough screenings for body dysmorphic disorder (BDD), also known as body dysmorphobia. According to the Postgraduate Medical Journal, body dysmorphic disorder is a serious psychological condition similar to obsessive compulsive disorder; sufferers becomes obsessed with a real or imagined defect in their appearance. This obsession can become so severe that it limits their daily functions or proves dangerous as they try to alter their bodies at home. Plastic surgery cannot solve this disorder, as after surgery the patient simply obsesses about a new part of their body (Veale 1-3). Michael Jackson is a prime, though unconfirmed, public example of the extremes this disorder can lead people to if they have enough money to pay for the surgeries they want. Only his doctor knows how many procedures the singer has subjected himself to, but it is evident that he cannot be happy with his appearance as he always comes back for more.
Though only counseling and medication can correct their psychological problems, people with BDD have unrealistic expectations from cosmetic procedures, and depression can worsen when they realize it has not solved all their anxieties. According to Cosmetic Surgery Times, plastic surgeons should look out for warning signs in their patients, such as a “belief that surgery will correct degenerated relationships [,] belief that surgery will bolster workplace status […] extreme preoccupation with particular area of body [or] dissatisfaction with previous surgeries” (Tackla 3). Unfortunately, for every honest surgeon unwilling to feed a hungry psychological disorder, there is another ready to throw common sense in the wind for a profit.
But even if a psychiatric defect were the reason for the high suicide rate of women with false breasts, as Koot et al suggests (2), it can not explain away what American researcher L. A. Brinton discovered in a government study. Although people with BDD get all types of elective surgery, Brinton found that women with breast implants were more likely than other plastic surgery patients to commit suicide – 50% more likely (Brinton 1). However, the debate rages on as it is revealed that American breast augmentation patients tend to have what can be described as a more risky lifestyle than American women who do not opt for the procedure: they “drank more alcohol, got pregnant at a younger age, were more likely to use contraceptives and hair dyes and had more sexual partners” (Cook 1). All of these factors could suggest that women who get breast implants typically have other things in their lives that could lead to depression or suicide. Apparently, the reason for the implant-suicide connection is complex, lying somewhere between the reasons women get implants and the physical problems caused by the sacs of fluid themselves.
Houston dentist Clara Harris wanted to end her husband’s cheating. She planned to get fit, get tan, get liposucked, get bigger breasts, and get her husband back (Spragins 1). As most rational people would suspect, such superficial expectations did not stop her husband’s affair, so she ran him over with her Mercedes. As extreme as the case may be, many women go under the knife for breast augmentation for many of the same reasons. Dr. David Sarwer, a psychologist who studies the impact of cosmetic surgery on patients says on occasion he is “worried about patients who have the expectation that plastic surgery is going to lead to a Cinderella-like change in their lives, […] often [they] set themselves up for disappointment” (Healy 2). These unrealistic expectations are neither rare nor inexplicable. The general perception of elective surgery from makeover shows and surgeon’s advertisements is that the physical change on the outside will ultimately create a new, happier and more desirable person on the inside. This idea is so pervasive that a Manhattan surgeon reports “one husband asked him to make his wife look really good so that when he divorced her she’d remarry quickly and the alimony would be minimized” (Spragins 2). After all the hype, a woman might feel guilty if she experiences a moment of sadness or frustration post-surgery.
While it is touted as a self-esteem booster, Ronald Wheland, a former president of the American Academy of Dermatology cautions that “[self-esteem] should not be the primary goal” of cosmetic surgery (Tackla 2). But the number of American women electing augmentation mammaplasty has increased “147% over the last five years” (“A Guide” 1) and shows like Extreme Makeover, The Swan, and I Want a Famous Face routinely cite self-esteem as the reason for radical surgery. Clearly, there is a discrepancy between what responsible plastic surgeons say and the patients they accept.
Even the few women who receive breast implants with realistic expectations may be unprepared for other social consequences. According to breastimplantinfo.org, a non-profit group designed to educate women about mammaplasty, women who elect breast reduction are usually delighted by the fact that their breasts no longer rob men’s attention away from normal conversations. Women who choose augmentation may experience the opposite problem, being uncomfortable with the way their larger breasts attract admiring eyes (“How You’ll Look” 1). The happy, confident person a woman expected herself to be instead becomes self-conscious and uneasy in social situations. And once the implants are in and the skin is stretched, it is very difficult to remove them and still have normal-looking breasts. The devices may be marketed as permanent, although surgeons and manufacturers fail to clarify; the implants are temporary but the scars are forever.
Breast augmentation is becoming increasingly prevalent in contemporary American society, but glowing advertisements of the surgery overshadow the truth about the physical and psychological risks. Capsular contracture and deflation, along with other less common complications, are ignored by the public since they occur so long after the initial surgery. The high rate of suicide is drowned by accolades of the silicone sacs of saline self-esteem. Though some contestants on reality make-over shows obsess about their bodies to the point of possibly exhibiting body dysmorphic disorder, it is hardly mentioned by mainstream media outlets. If truly, “[self-esteem] should not be the primary goal” of cosmetic surgery as Wheland claims (Tackla 2), no other rational reasons exist for an emotionally stable woman with healthy breasts to undergo such a risky procedure with long-term consequences. The sooner women realize that as years pass the implants she chose for beauty will become uglier and uglier, the sooner this alarming trend can be stopped. Doctors have a responsibility to put the well-being of the patient above their search for profit – that includes fully informing the patient about the inevitable failure of the devices and excluding prospective patients with unrealistic expectations.

Works Cited

“A Guide to Breast Augmentation and Breast Implants Cosmetic Plastic Surgery Information Resource.” Just Breast Implants. 3 June 2004. http://www..
Angell, Marcia. “Evaluating the Health Risks of Breast Implants: The Interplay of Medical Science, the Law, and Public Opinion.” The New England Journal of Medicine 334 (1996): 1513-8. 6 June 1996. 11 May 2004. http://content.nejm.org/cgi/content/full/334/23/1513?ijkey=672cf8b818e35fb08bd4b209a5fc2bcbef32512e&keytype2=tf_ipsecsha.

Brinton, L. A., et al. “Mortality among Augmentation Mammoplasty Patients.” Epidemiology 12 (2001): 321-6. Abstract. PubMed. National Library of Medicine. 20 May 2004. http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov.
Cook, Linda S., et al. “Characteristics of Women with and without Breast Augmentation.” The Journal of the American Medical Association. 277 (1997): 1612+. Abstract. Expanded Academic ASAP. InfoTrac. Lewis D. Cannell Library. 18 May 2004 http://www.infotrac.galegroup.com.
Healy, Patrick. “Nose Jobs and Implants on the Runway.” New York Times 23 Oct. 2003, late ed.: B1. ProQuest. Lewis D. Cannell Library. 15 April 2004 http://www..
“How You’ll Look and Feel.” Breastimplantinfo.org. 8 Apr. 2004. http://www..
Koot, V. C. M., et al. “Total and cause specific mortality among Swedish women with cosmetic breast implants: prospective study.” British Medical Journal 326 (2003): 527-8. bmj.com 8 March 2003. 27 Apr. 2004 http://bmj.bmjjournals.com/cgi/content/full/326/7388/527.
“Mona Lisa Visits Beverly Hills.” Funny Celebrity Pictures. 20 May 2004. http://ww.comedy-zone.net/pictures/celebs/celebrity24.htm.
Moynahan, Paula. Cosmetic Surgery for Women. New York: Crown, 1988.
“Premiere.” The Swan. Fox. KPTV. Portland, OR. 7 April 2004.
Rosenthal, Ilena. “Authors Miss Most Important Clue.” Online Posting. 14 Mar. 2003 bmj.com. 20 May 2004. http://bmj.bmjjournals.com/cgi/eletters/326/7388/.
Spragins, Ellyn. “A Makeover Can Be More Than Skin Deep.” New York Times 2 March 2003, late ed.: 3.9. ProQuest. Lewis D. Cannell Library. 22 April 2004 http://www.bellhowell.infolearning.om/proquest.
Tackla, Michelle. “Beautiful Minds? Study says Cosmetic Surgery Bolsters Happiness; Surgeons Still Wary of Psychological Profiles.” Cosmetic Surgery Times 6 (2003). Expanded Academic ASAP. InfoTrac. Lewis D. Cannell Library. 15 Apr. 2004 http://www.infotrac.galegroup.com.
United States. Food and Drug Administration. “Breast Implant Risks Brochure.” Center for Devices and Radiological Health. 23 Oct. 2000. 15 Apr. 2004 http://www.fda.gov/cdrh/breastimplants/breast_implant_risks_brochure.html.

Veale, D. “Body Dysmorphic Disorder.” Postgraduate Medical Journal 80 (2004): 67-71. Health Reference Center ‑ Academic. InfoTrac. Lewis D. Cannell Library. 18 May 2004 http://www.infotrac.galegroup.com.

© Bethylene, 2004

That giantess Nicole Kidman's got nothing on…well, nevermind.

In a stroke of victory for Shortpeople everywhere, Reese Witherspoon won Best Actress at the Academy Awards last night. Yay! Actually, I am actually familiar with and of favorable opinion towards three of the winners in acting—I love Rachel Weisz and George Clooney too, but know nothing about the guy from Capote. Anyway, The Disney-obsessed One thinks that movies few people have seen or even heard about should not win Oscars. I think really popular movies have already won monetary awards. The Academy is right to honor movies that use art to draw emotion from an audience, to present an idea in a unique way. Recycled, bathetic plots sell tickets but do not deserve recognition for being The Best Picture. For example, Titanic should never have won Best Picture. Sure, the special effects were huge, but the tired beautiful-caged-bird-rich-girl with rich-jerk-boyfriend/fiancé falls for poor-starving-artist then girl-and-artist-face-the-elements-together before/during/after a passionate session of kissing/screwing story is so old! People enjoy the predictable escape of watching it (come on, everyone knew the boat would sink before they entered the theater!), but Titanic did nothing remotely original with the paperback-romance plot, nor did DiCaprio have enough acting ability to create any believable chemistry with Winslet. Big-budget junk movies are like junk food: they are pleasurable, but they are not worth the formal accolades of a complex masterpiece.

Well, I wasn't expecting that…

My parents sent me money. Wow. This is a big deal—the first time they have since I went to university. Wow. My dad says the check is for half of the deduction he gets for listing me as a dependent on their taxes. So, maybe sending me this money justifies the dependent status? I don't know, but I'm going shopping.

I've been up for seven and a half hours but the sun is still high—what do I do?

I had to get up early this morning to go to a conference on peer tutoring. It started at eight! Who does that on a Saturday?! I did learn something about the publication lab though; once I finish this revison, I'm taking my novel there. It will be amazing.

Shock of the Year

Hotmail's random MSN Relationship articles have reached a new level of obviousness (for me, anyway): "Top Five Reasons Why You're Still Single". I've got "Silent saboteur #1: You’re ignoring your relationship needs", "Silent saboteur #2: You’re too quick to decide whether you’re interested", "Silent saboteur #3: You’ve got options but none are 'good enough' ", and "Silent saboteur #5: Your attitude leaves a bad taste in the hearts and minds of others".
Wow.
The only thing the article didn't mention was You don't want a relationship. If I was going to cry about being free (a.k.a. single), I would do something about "these silent love saboteurs". Is it so hard to believe that a woman might actually think single status fits her situation better? Bona-fide facebook-declared "relationships" are more like chores. Who cares if you have someone to haughtily hold hands with in public if he bores you out of your skull? Oh, yeah – half of campus.

Forethought Forgot

Subheader on a Newsweek story I stumbled across this afternoon: "Global business leaders are looking outside the box for new energy sources. Don’t expect oil prices to go down anytime soon." Argh! Is the price the only thing anyone cares about?!
In a few decades there will be no oil at any attainable price (for a detailed proof in plain English, see the August 2005 National Geographic cover story). Unfortunately, most of the world, presidents and suburbanites alike, are stumbling around with blinders on. There once was a time when people sacrificed everything for their posterity. And today? Today, we buy whatever will give us the quickest pleasure with money we don't have. Instant gratification rules for consumers, manufacturers, energy suppliers—ignore questions of sustainability if it creates instant profit.
This just doesn't make sense, for individuals or businesses. It's like feeding a child his own arms. Sure, he may grow taller, but is it worth the cost? Who will care about the low-priced televisions at Wal-Mart when there is no food in the grocery section? We are racing full-speed towards a worldwide rush on resources, and no one cares. The self-described developed world plans on paying some third-world country to fix it. Does chaos take plastic?