*deep healing breath*
Okay. I have a confession to make. This isn't easy, but this is a goal I set for myself - to put everything I'm afraid of about myself out there. If people drop off from reading this journal as a result, then I can be strong enough to accept it. Ooookay.
The easy stuff first:
- I have a serious (and unexplained) crush on the kid with the blindfold that puts the Rubix Cube together in that commercial. That "Haha, I did it!" smile when he sees he fixed it? I'm fourteen and pushing my glasses up my nose and hoping to bump into him outside of our shared Physics lab. You shut your judging mouth!
- I also have a serious (but explainable) crush on Supernanny. Her low-class accent, her hair that really needs a trim (oh, honey those dried and frail ENDS! *clutches pearls*) and her no-nonsense approach that is completely welcoming and loving? Maybe I have a mother fixation. Ain't no "maybe" about it. Also, I bet she gives awesome hugs. Mmmmmm.
- Last night I flipped through my satellite channels and caught "Saturday's Warrior" on the BYU channel and I ALMOST WROTE PAM/JIMMY non-con twincest quad porn. I'm CRYING WITH LAUGHTER right now, mostly because NONE of y'all get that, except for maybe my sister and floweringjudas. Just... just follow the link. It's a Mormon propaganda MUSICAL about why it's okay for Mormons to have loads of kids. (Imagine Springtime for Hitler, but less Jewwy.) (Also, please note how the LDS church compares this BABY-MAKING MUSICAL to literature like... BEOWULF.)
On to the hard thing. I... I watch "Wife Swap." YOU KNOW WHAT?! YOU KNOW WHAT?! I know. I know it's crap. I can feel every single brain cell that holds mathematical formulas and periodic table data crying out as they are squashed to death, so I don't want to hear it. But let me tell you something: I don't care, because of episodes like LAST NIGHT. Oh. My. GOD. (Well, not my god, because I defy him and all His works.) ((Oooh, side note. Last week was a heavy metal rocker family from Texas and a MENNONITE family from Wisconsin. That was also cracktasticly wonderful.)
One family: San Franciscans, urbane, cultured, meticulous in their appearance and home. (The husband is a professional stylist, the mother a PA for the Day.)
Two family: Iowan farmers. Their children do NOT GO TO SCHOOL. Um, notice I didn't say that instead, they were HOME schooled.THEY ARE NOT SCHOOLED. At all. Teenagers. Um, kay. But the kicker? They eat EVERYTHING RAW. This is not the Hollywood raw diet of loads of fresh veggies and fruits. This is: slaughter a chicken, cut the meat up and EAT IT RIGHT THEN. Also: they do not wash their hands. The cutting board. The counters. The floors. The shower. Let me remind you that they LIVE ON A FARM. Where they milk COWS AND TEND GOATS AND CHICKENS. And then go in and EAT without WASHING THEIR HANDS. That have been on teats. And hooves. *pukes*
So here's WHY Filth!Family doesn't: bacteria is good and healthy.
And... they're right. To a point. *uses my Microbiology degree for the first time in ages* Only 1% of bacteria is harmful. The rest is normal flora and keeps you in balance and yes, is good for you. Which is why in MY home I refuse to use "anti-bacterial" soap when I WASH MY HANDS. Because that 1% of harmful bacteria? Well, it can kill you. (E. Coli any one? um... STAPH? Tetanus is the most painful looking disease ever, and that's in SOIL and on FARM EQUIPMENT. ...I get my Tetanus shot every NINE years, just to be safe. Good lord.)
What the HELL, people? Poop! Poop under fingernails!! And they use their hands to mix their raw milk curds *gag* with what the hell ever else in these Mason jars that are EVERYWHERE (oh my god that house was DISGUSTING) and they have to drink keffir every five hours or they get sick and just... *hands* That poor city woman. She had to live there LIKE THEY DO for two weeks.
Here are some of the highlights on the crazy! (I ran on the first commercial break to grab a notebook. I alternated between scribbling like crazy and covering my mouth in horror.)
- Filthy!Family eats 12 - 15 raw eggs a day, a piece. Raw MEAT. Raw meat, people. Oh, some of it is left in jars and stuck in cupboards to become "high meat" after several MONTHS. *woozy*
- No cleaning products, because it kills the bacteria - and bacteria is your FRIEND (and the kids are isolated on this farm, so.. yeah. I imagine the kids naming the various fungal cultures on the SHOWER CURTAIN. (I worry about the 15 year old boy striking up a hot romance with a botulism ring on the sink drain - she's never going to leave her family, kid.)
- toothpaste is made of BUTTER AND CLAY (even 19th century people used mint leaves and willow bark, dipwads!) Every one of them had gingivitis, btw. And grey lined gums. BLEH.
- You can't use insecticides because they (the INSECTICIDES that apparently have brains) don't know if YOU are an insect or not and will kill YOU*
- families must be prepared for the APOCALYPSE and have a one year supply of food in the pantry (pfft. Mormons teach TWO years, you wimps.)
- The kids, who are wan and grey-faced, have NO FUN. They work on the farm all day long, which (according to their mother) is their school and all they need to know. (!!!!)
- did I mention the fungal growths on the shower? That... is supposed to be health-inspiring? *pukes* There is literally shit every where. There is a GOAT wandering in and out of their house. Jars filled with... stuff every where. Blankets that aren't washed and towels and EEEEEWWWWWWWW. The Clean!Mom sat on the very edge of everything. I don't blame her. cannot imagine the courage it took to find somewhere to sleep in that filth.
- when the Clean!Mom puts her foot down on the raw meat, and forces the Filthy!Family to go to a normal restaurant and eat COOKED food, they all get French fries. *eye roll*
- ...which makes everyone get "cramps." Which makes the dad BAWL like a wuss, I mean, that was the most theatrical crying I'd ever seen from a man, and I used to do musical theater, people. He was sliding down the (filthy) wall next to the (filthy) toilet, throwing his arms over the (filthy) commode and wailing how this was "killing [his] children. It's killing them!!" Dude, one night of fries ain't the enemy. The poop on that toilet seat, however... GROSS. *Karen Silkwood showers*
- The Filthy!Wife (who looks like a polygamist) is in SF trying to throw out the Stylist!Husband's Gucci and Armani. WHAT ON EARTH. He does not let her. Also, she LICKS THEIR FLOOR. To prove that she won't die.
- She LICKED THEIR FLOOR. Then did a sarcastic eye roll and said "oh, no I'm dying from the gerrrrrrms." Woman, you are gonna die from my foot up your ass. Oh, the Clean!Dad has a moment alone with the cameraman and is obviously perplexed and asks, "Who just goes into a person's house and licks their floor? This woman is insane!"
- Later, Filthy!mom gasps and theatrically struggles to "use her words" to tell the cameras that she "got a whiff of bleach from your CHILDREN'S BATHROOM** and that was hazardous to [her] health." Also, later she explained that without raw meat and sour, clumpy milk (I did not see these farm people eat ONE GREEN THING. Aside from their "high meat" oh, GAG) there was no "fat in [her] brain, and [she's] having a hard time choosing... [her] words." *insert theatrical blinking and staggering.*
- When Clean!Mom gets home, she cleans EVEN MORE. Uh, YEAH. And her family is adorable. Her oldest boy is quite the dapper dresser at 6 - he actually TEARED UP when Filthy!Mom told him he had to wear Dickies overalls while she was there. Hahaha.
- Filthy!Family is a bunch of freaks, and I still cannot get over the dad screaming and crying because Clean!Mom wanted to clean up the mess. I cannot stress enough that there were JARS OF MOLD and caked on junk on EVERY AVAILABLE SURFACE of their little dilapidated farm house.
- Filthy!Dad used my most FAVORITE ARGUMENT as to why their lifestyle was good and just: "do you think God would put something on this earth that will harm us?" FOUR SYLLABLES, DUMBASS: URANIUM. Want another? PLUTONIUM. One last four syllable rebuttal: OTHER PEOPLE. I eyerolled so hard, I'm now looking down my esophagus.
* this is just false. Insecticides don't just kill everything in their path, they are selected by WHAT they kill, firstly. They kill by attacking insect systems, like neurotoxins, or metabolic systems. Oh, also: follow the fucking instructions, people. If you dump a gallon of Dursban on your roses and you get half of it on you, you'll get sick. You won't die, though. End rant.
** the SF children are going to DIE because their mother kills all of their bacterial friends with bleach and dusting spray, according to Filth!Mom. She likes this whole "think of the CHILDREN!" angle. I DON'T UNDERSTAND HER. This woman is kah-ray-zee
So, that's it. There's my big confession. I watch crack TV when I could be finishing a book (Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales, in the original Middle English - fun!) Or breathing open-mouthed. Or hitting my head with a hammer repeatedly.
What, you expected me to reveal that I'm a hermaphrodite? That's going to be my birthday present to you!! (In case you couldn't tell, I'm still in a terrific mood. Yay!!!)
And I bet you feel a need to clean yourself after that, huh? *passes the bleach*