granola girls

Today’s Agenda:  

I. Recipe successes

II. “Granola vibes” despite a “lower-class” up-bringing

III. Political awareness/voting

IV. More rational and balanced but still oh so emotional….

V. Non-scale victories



Today, I learned from some mistakes. I started out my day with Cassey‘s OMGoctober Friday workout (focusing on the lower body aka butt/legs), then went down stairs where I cooked up an EDIBLE bowl of Pumpkin Pie oats topped with a tad bit of maple, some flax seeds, and approximately 4 tsp of Chocolate Peanut Butter/ Sunflower Seed butter hybrid. No picture but take it from me, it was delicious. This was in stark contrast to the other day’s attempt at making the same, where I dumped 2 TABLESPOONS of cinnamon into the pot……….attention to detail matters!

Rode my bike to class, (fall is so so so beautiful) and was 10 minutes late, as usual. I just can’t motivate myself to care about punctuality when it comes to this class… actually, I’ve always been that way. You can count on me to be 10 minutes early if I’m being paid to be somewhere, but give me the title of “volunteer” or “paying student”…well, things change.

Anyway, we had a (mildly) heated discussion about the Frontline documentary “Poisoned Water” that we watched in class for our “lab” the other day. While I didn’t stay for the entire film (some student I am), I watched enough to grasp the gist of the discussion and remain engaged. I’ve been thinking a lot about issues of complacency, especially complacency as a theme pertaining to early Hitchcock films (The 39 Steps & The Lady Vanishes in particular). People just don’t care about things unless said thing happens to be pounding down one’s doorstep. This truth reveals itself in the most “micro” of situations. Like, eating — Don’t you remember being young, and eating too much ice cream or something, and hearing some aunt or other relative telling you, “Oh, you have nothing to worry about, you’re young. When you’re old like me, things will be different.” And you go right on ahead, eating your ice cream. That’s complacency, right there. That’s reactive thinking, right there. That’s thinking strictly in the moment and completely blinding yourself to any thoughts about the future, right there. Short-sighted thinking. It’s everywhere. And it’s scary.

blah, I wish I had written this earlier, my thoughts were far more clear to me a few hours ago. Unfortunately, my MacBook is currently out of service, and I’m not in the mood to deal with it. So the only time I have access to a computer is when I’m on campus, volunteering, or at work. I like to spend as little of my time as possible on campus, and only volunteer once a week, so, there you have it.

All I’m saying is, if people can’t change their thoughts or actions on a micro level, how the hell are we supposed to see significant change on a macro level? If people would rather buy a bag of Tyson chicken for $1.99 at Groc Out rather than making it out to their local farmer’s market once a week, thinking, “I’m broke, I can’t afford to eat clean”, how are we to expect them to commit to larger actions, like writing to Congress, or even voting?

Sorry to be so general and out there with my examples, but I fear I only have a general knowledge — I know intuitively why things are the way they are and I know that making micro changes like exercising daily, cleaning up your diet, buying locally, reading more, sleeping more, etc. all facilitate the act of maximizing one’s health, therefore maximizing one’s potential for true activism, but that doesn’t mean I know jack diddaly squat about actual bills, laws, agendas, biological settings, etc.


Trying to make this flow naturally into my next point — “the Granola girl”. The other day, I was telling a friend about my sister’s puppies (her pit bull just had puppies…..) and he made a joke about white trash. While a little bit offended, I admitted to him that my family was more “white trash” than most people we associated with at our ritzy little university (I do not mean this as an offense to my family, I love them dearly and owe my existence to them, but I grew up in quite the dysfunctional household, and have been exposed to my fair share of twisted persons, and I do disagree with much of my family’s living trajectory) ANYWAY, he told me that he was surprised to hear that I grew up in a “white trash” family, he told me I gave off “granola vibes” instead.

I was a little bit offended by this. The phrase “granola girl” has a weird/honestly, negative connotation for me — I just associate that term with pretentiosity (which is my favorite non-word) and unnecessary judgement. But I’ve thought about it, and I guess I do sort of fit the mark. Kale eating, Pilates performing, mason jar hoarding, film going, etc.

And it is comforting to know that I give off “granola vibes”, rather than I-was-raised-by-drug-addicts-and-have-no-class vibes, like I feared. It’s strange — I guess, compared to my family, my interests are pretty non-sequitur. My family is far from cultured, let alone health conscious. You know, at the risk of further ingraining myself in the hole of ungrateful, entitled brat, I’m just going to admit that my family is hardly conscious — err… conscientious. I’ve always been the “weird” one, experimenting with vegan diets, asking for books as my only desired Christmas presents, etc. etc. Now, I’m even weirder, with my increased participation in the indie film community, my sudden interest in Pilates, my rekindled interest in veganism & clean cooking, etc. etc. I’m not going to talk myself up.

The point I’m trying to bring is, why should I be the “nutty” one in the family simply for expressing interests in these things? Why should I be considered “weird” for strongly expressing desires to promote and implement change? Granted, I’m starting small, and with the self, I need to get healthy before I can be of any use to society…all the same, why is it weird to be interested in what local filmmakers are doing, as opposed to who Kristen Stewart is sleeping with? Honestly. Why is it weird to want to eat real food that makes me feel energized and clean, rather than nasty nachos with extra cheese? Why is it “weird” to want to recycle our water bottles, rather than contributing to more toxins and landfills? I don’t get it.


End rant for now, but after writing this, I do now know what I’m going to write my next assignment for “Non-Fiction Writing” on — we are to write a “reflective” essay with the title “On ____” (i.e. On Naps, On Veganism, On Dating, etc.)

Onto my final topic of the day — one thing today’s class discussion did do in me, other than trigger a rant on complacency & how I’m so “different” from my family, was get me excited about voting. I FINALLY went home, called that number, and faxed in my request for an absentee ballot.


On faxing in the request — It costs $2.74 to fax long-distance at my school. I currently have…..less than that in my bank account (that should change any day now but booooyyyyyy are things tight right now). I was going to pay with my Discover card (grudgingly, but it was that, or potentially go over my limit), but they don’t take Discover cards. I rushed out of there as soon as I realized I couldn’t afford to fax in my request, and immediately used the internet to transfer the silt from my savings over to my checking account. I go back to the faxing facility…..and the woman told me not to worry about it, that she could tell that I was broke. She handed me the fax confirmation, and told me to have a good day. I thanked her, and that was that.

As soon as I left the building, I swear I almost started crying. I was so hyped up on voting, and being responsible, only to be crushed by my financial reality…..and people like her just kill me. She didn’t have to do that. She did do that. I’m not friends with her, I may never see her again, but she saw that I was hurting and she extended an act of kindness.

I swear, the more I work out, the more balanced and rational I feel….but I’m still apparently an over-emotional wreck at any remarkable act of goodness on the part of another human…….


And finally. I’ve been weighing myself more than I should be, and I’m not really happy with the results. I feel like the number on the scale is HIGHER than it it was, HIGHER than it should be. But you know what? I feel slimmer.Not only that, but I feel tighter. Stronger. Healthier. Happier. THAT is what should matter. Not the number on the scale. I still struggle with over doing it, and I have a LONG way to go before I master proper form on some of these advanced Pilates moves…..But I need to acknolwedge that I feel happier, more coherent, more creative, more able than ever I have in my life….or at least in my college years.

with THAT, I’m out of the blogosphere for the day. I’m going to have a good weekend, and actually catch up on my homework.

merry autumn! again.


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