Category — Knowledge Center

photo by robayre

Aw, thanks for your well-wishes yesterday. My head’s still somewhere near the summit of Mt. Everest while my body sinks deep in the ocean (at least that’s how it feels to me) but I think whatever cold or sickness I have is fading. A good, good thing because I’m not about to spend my weekend feeling all flighty.

Two things today:

1. My 90-year-old massage therapist says you should try this:

The other day I mentioned how working at a desk all day contorts my muscles into some horrible knots, and you all pretty much agreed that desk work will be the downfall of all humanity. (That is what you agreed to, right?) Anyhow, I thought I’d pass on another tip I learned from a massage therapist I had once.

(Actually, I learned it from a ninetysomething year-old massage therapist who was a teensy little thing that didn’t even reach my shoulders. And yet somehow this frail woman dug in deep and hard and got all my knots out. Go figure.)

After she told me my back was in pathetic shape (yeah, seriously) and that I needed to stop doing so much sitting in front of the computer (yeah right) she suggested I get a back cushion. The idea is to lay on the cushion after a long day and let the pose work your spine into alignment.

The cushion I use (here’s what it looks like) places your head, neck, and back in perfect alignment and it helps aches and pains. Plus, it gives you a good idea of what good posture feels like, thus making it easier to stand up straight when you’re not, you know, splayed out on the floor.

2. Your Media Savvy Tip of the Day: Put your e-mail address on your blog.

Here’s the thing: Sometimes reporters who need to interview real humans stumble across THE MOST PERFECT SUBJECT EVER! and, naturally, do a Google search of their name. And then they might find a blog, which is great because they can study up on the person before an interview. But sometimes there is no contact info on the blog. None.

Do you know what a reporter does then? I mean, after crying and wishing this MOST PERFECT SUBJECT EVER! would have just put a derned e-mail address on her site? That reporter cuts her losses and moves on to someone else.

So if you like the idea of ever being featured in a newspaper or magazine article, a book, or television or radio story, the reporters must have a way to contact you. Here’s where I look first: On the homepage, the About Me page, or under a Contact Me tab.

I came across this today when I found someone who was perfect for an article I’m writing. I spent way too long searching her site for anything—e-mail address, phone number, twitter handle, address to which I might send a carrier pigeon. Nothing.

But if you’re happy never having the possibility of the media not contacting you, that’s fine, too.

Finally, today is the last day to enter my beauty giveaway. The details are all here, but the Cliff Notes version is this: 12 never-been-used beauty products, one winner, three ways to enter today.

Have a great weekend!

photo by natashalatrasha

You guys are spot-on when it comes to unlikeable actors and actresses. I’m not responding to comments on yesterday’s post because doing that would mess up the count and all, and I’d hate to run a contest where I’m the one who royally screws up the entries. So I’m keeping mum. But I will say Matthew “No Shirt” McCaunahey and Jessica “I’m Too Sexy” Biel are at the top of my Hate List. (Which The Man hates, by the way, because Jessica Biel happens to be in man movies like Stealth and Blade and A Team. I refuse to see a movie with her—yup, I dislike her that much—so The Man’s forced to find another movie buddy to catch those totallyawesomeamazing movies.)

Continuing this ramble (I swear, I so didn’t intent for my bashing to go on this long) I agree with Jessica and Ameena, who threw Will Ferrell under the Craptastic Actor bus. I assumed I was the only one who didn’t find him funny. But, thank goodness, I’m in good company. I can’t force myself to sit through another movie where he pretends to be an idiot, gets naked, and yells incoherently. The end.

Not really. Just the end of my rant.

So the other day I was talking to my mother about acupuncture because her brain is nearly exploding and there isn’t enough Excedrin in the world to treat it. In other words: She gets constant headaches and the drugs just don’t cut it anymore. I’m in the process of convincing her to try acupuncture since there’s good research that says it works like a charm. (Well, really the research says something more like “acupuncture leads to persisting, clinically relevant benefits for primary care patients with chronic headache, particularly migraine.” But c’mon, you know my summary is just as good.)

Anyhow, our conversation got me thinking about acupuncture in general. Here’s something I bet you don’t know about me: I tried acupuncture on my knees a couple years ago.

I was in the midst of having a midlife crisis of sorts—my knees were kaput and The Man was carrying me around the house like a mule. Not cool. So I scheduled an appointment with an acupuncturist who was a former NIH doctor and begged her to heal my knees. ASAP, if possible.

I had two sessions and I’ll tell you what:

1. It doesn’t hurt. I’m not sure why I thought those hair-fine needles would somehow make me flinch with pain, but they didn’t. (And now that I get a 4-inch needle full of blood platelets jammed into my knee for PRP I laugh at Old Tracey and her stupidity.)
2. It’s relaxing. My acupuncturist’s office was part doctor’s lair, part spa. Minus the cucumber-flavored water, deep tissue massage, and $200 bill. There was a bed and dark room with soft music, and after the doctor was done jabbing me with needles she let me snooze for a half hour.

I’ll be honest: It didn’t work for me. I know, this is a shocking ending to what you must have assumed would be a glowing review. (I’m tricksy like that.) I so wanted it to work. I gave it two tries. But the fact is, the needles made my Baker’s cysts on the back of my legs ache. And I already had plenty of pain thank you very much. So I stopped going.

The thing is, I still think acupuncture has its place, if not on my legs. I still think it can work, and I think it’s a smarter move than, say, chugging a bottle of Excedrin daily. So I’ll let you know when my mom goes—and whether she’s cured of her daily mind-exploding headaches.

And also: My Totally Awesome Beauty Package Contest is still going on, so head here and enter if you want to will 11 different beauty products. Weee!

Have you ever gotten acupuncture? Would you?

photo by express monorail
If only! Most air definitely smells more like feet than flowers.

Glad you all found yesterday’s post entertaining. I’m sure I’ll be getting plenty of new readers now that I’ve scattered those search terms all over. More creepiness will be going on here. Um, great.

Moving on, today is going to be a two-part post, so let’s just get going shall we?

Part One: A Useless Piece of Information About Me That I’ll Tell You Even Though You Probably Don’t Care

I’m part bloodhound. Hm, that didn’t come out right. It’s not like I’m some weird dog-human mix (though I hear people like dog people as evidenced by exhibit A). It’s just that I’ve realized my keen sense of smell isn’t normal.

Well, really, The Man helped me realize that when he gently said, “You’re a freak. I’ve never met someone who smells as well as you.” (Only he used the word good instead of well, but I’m such a nice wife that I corrected his grammar.)

There’s the fact that I can sniff faint scents long before most people notice the room even has a smell. And then there’s the annoying part of my superpower: Even the faintest gross smell makes me want to barf.

So, like, when we’re making dinner and I catch the smell of egg or when the sink takes on that slightly metallic smell, I start to gag. Sure, I love eggs, but smelling them cook makes me seriously consider veganism.

But you see, it’s not just those foods that normal people think stink. It’s random scents that I can’t put my finger on. I’ll start with the scent that may make you think I’m insane. Sometimes my water glass smells even though I haven’t even sipped it. (Of course I dump it and get a new glass, which makes The Man insane and may have elicited the “You’re a freak” speech in the first place.)

Other instances go more like this:

ME: What stinks?

THE MAN: I don’t smell anything.

ME: It’s like a dirty mop. Or diner counters that have been wiped clean but mysteriously smell like rot.

THE MAN: I don’t smell anything.

ME: Or it’s like stinky feet lingering in an elevator.

FAMILY MEMBER NO. 1: You’re nuts.

ME, sniffing around: I think it’s over here. Nope. Hmm.

THE MAN: I smell nothing.

ME: How can you not smell it? It’s so gross! It’s like cardboard boxes in a small room in the heat.

FAMILY MEMBER NO. 2: You’re nuts.

THE MAN: I do smell something! Is that French fries?

ME: No! It’s not French fries! It’s disgustingness in gas form!

THE MAN: You’re nuts.

Anyhow, useless but important to my life nonetheless.

Part Two: A Useful Study That I’ll Share With You To Make Up For The Useless Piece of Information About Me.

I’ll start by telling you I don’t eat gluten-free foods. But I know many of you do so it’s my civic duty to pass some info on to you: Those gluten-free foods might not be totally free of gluten. I mean, there’s a chance they could have a teeeeensy bit of gluten in them, which is either no big deal if you just eat gluten free to spend extra money or a huge deal if you’re intolerant. The FDA doesn’t regulate this kind of thing.

Fact is, some researchers looked at 22 gluten-free products and found that seven of them wouldn’t pass the FDA’s test to determine gluten-free-ness. (Shut up, it’s a word.) Here’s the whole story.

Consider yourself informed.

I love it when my readers leave smarter than when they arrived here.

(Or, you could argue, I love it when they leave stupider. But I might give you the evil eye for saying that.)

I have two—count ’em, two—questions for you today.

First, what superpower do you legitimately have? (No, “I can fly!” doesn’t count unless you really can fly in which case—can I book you for a trip to Massachusetts? These airplanes are getting kinda expensive what with the baggage check fees and all. E-mail me.)

Second, do you buy gluten free? If you do, are you worried about it possibly being gluten-full?

OK, as promised yesterday, the abridged version of how I met The Man. Wei-Wei asked if I had ever told the story. And, in fact I haven’t. But it’s a good story, and since we’re two days from our fourth anniversary, this is a good time to tell it.

I was working at a restaurant, trying to make up all of the money I spent while studying abroad in New Zealand. There was this really cute bartender who never spoke to me and barely gave me the time of day. Of course, I wanted to date him.

So I kept dropping blatantly obvious hints that I was head-over-heels for him. For instance, I would smile at him when I got to work. Sometimes I’d joke around. I’d say flirty things like, “How was your weekend?” Once in a while I’d touch his arm while I snaked around his side to grab a new bottle of ketchup. One time I invited him to hang out with a bunch of us after work. The Man wasn’t super perceptive and claims he had no idea I liked him. [Read more →]

photo by okaycitynate
Yes, this is how you write. Sit in front of the computer like this long enough and suddenly there will be 1,000 words on your screen. I swear.

There’s one question I get asked more than any other, and it’s this: How do you have such gorgeous hair?

Kidding. I actually have pretty sucky hair. I got my mom’s thin locks while my sister stole my dad’s thick hair. I spend hours a day trying to coax body into this mane while my sister takes her thick, Pantene hair and throws it up into a messy bun. Go figure.

So the real question I get asked all the time is: How can I become a writer? There are more answers to that question than I’ll give mainly because if I’m going to reveal the secrets to the universe I’m going to do it in book form. Or, you know, I might just feel like I’m not one to advise on the subject.

To set things straight, I’m a writer. I have been since 2002. Well, I’ve been a published writer since then; I think I always considered myself a writer. I’m a journalist, but I’m not a writing rock star. I don’t write for the New Yorker or The Atlantic, and there aren’t Pulitzer’s hanging around my house. (But if there were, they’d be locked away in a safe that was hidden beneath my bullet-proof floor boards.) That’s my disclaimer.

After eight years—sheesh, I didn’t realize I was so old—I’ve come to realize there are four main steps to being a writer.

1. Read. As kids, we learn grammar and vocabulary by reading. But it’s also the way we learn how to structure sentences and how to tell stories. As adults, it’s still the best way to improve your writing. Read sucky stuff and learn what you don’t like. Read the good stuff and mark up what you love.

2. Write. Aside from the fact that’s it’s physically impossible to be a writer without actually writing, it’s one of the best ways to improve your ability. Look back to something you wrote five years ago. Do you see mistakes or faults? I do, and that’s because I’m constantly learning, constantly writing, and always improving. Practice is how I get there.

3. Pitch. The only way someone is ever going to find out about your awesometastic writing is if you show them. So if you want to be a journalist, query online magazines, big sites, or your local newspaper. By doing small work first you can bypass journalism’s catch-22: “We only publish writers who have published clips.” Start small and build clips, then pitch to larger pubs.

4. Grow thick skin. Writing is as much about rejection as it is about words, and that goes for newspaper and magazine journalism as well as book publishing. You’re going to get rejected. Period. So move on and don’t think it’s about you. It’s not; it’s just the way things are.

That’s it. Sure, there are a gazillion other tips I could give you about researching the newspapers and magazines you’d like to write for, or about reading about journalism to learn the industry. Or interviewing, or researching, or finding the best details. I could talk about pacing and suspense. Or why understanding format (say, the inverted pyramid for hard news) and style (is it internet or Internet?*) are so important. But it all boils down to this: Read, write, and get your work out there. Then push through rejection until you hit success.

Any questions?

*It’s Internet, by the way.

photo by sarahfelicity

Hmm, life apparently goes on after Lost. Go figure.

Aside from feeling exhausted after my Lost marathon last night, today was pretty good. It was the first day in almost a week that I didn’t have a mind-blowing headache. And I use that word negatively. As in I was two seconds from blowing my mind to smithereens.

(On Friday, I know I made it home from work but I’m ashamed to say I drove with that headache. I think it would have been safer to drive with a few beers and six shots of vodka in me. I was so out of my mind from the pain, I had an entire conversation with my mother but can’t remember anything. Except that she thanked me for something.)

Whew. Thank goodness for Monday. I should tag this post Things I Never Thought I’d Say.

So, in honor of my head pain–free day, I wanted to share a stretch that is so awesome you’ll wish I wrote about this years ago. (That wouldn’t have been possible, of course, because I just learned about it a week ago. And because I wasn’t blogging years ago. But you get the point.) [Read more →]

photo by migraine chick
Funny, that’s how I feel.

I was just wondering what to write about today when the idea struck. It hit me right in the face—between the eyeballs, if you really want to know. No one told me this is what it felt like to be visited by the muse.

So, what better topic than headaches. (No, we won’t discuss the perpetual headaches in your life. We’ll get to kids and husbands at a later date.) Instead, I thought I’d provide you with a list of ways to get rid of a headache. I’m practically an expert after all. Lucky me.

1. Meds. Kind of self-explanatory, huh? Here are my thoughts on headache meds: They’re great if you get a headache once a year or even once a month, but when your skull is on the verge of exploding weekly these probably won’t do much. Take it from me. Excedrin loses its potency if you pop it all the time. Ahem, not that I used to do that or anything. On the flip side, now that I’m not taking any anti-inflammatories (because I’m getting PRP), one dose kills my headache on contact.

2. Sleep. Sure, you say, it’s not easy to get to sleep while little gnomes try to drill through your skull from the inside out. But if the room is dark enough and quiet enough you might be able to lull those brain gnomes to bed at the same time as you. Things go faster if you put a cold wash cloth over your eyes.

3. Shower. A long, hot shower sometimes makes my ache disappear … or at least die down a bit. If I follow this with a nap, I can usually cut the pain in half. Usually. [Read more →]

photo by foundryparkinn

You can’t see me, so I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I write these posts hunched over my laptop. If you stare hard enough, I’m sure you can see a lopsidedness to my shoulders. That, my friends, is due to the twisted knots in my muscles.

I wouldn’t say I look like Quasimodo, but that’s how I feel. You see, while I’m at work I’m multitasking. I’m building great big knots in my shoulders and back and neck. It’s not an easy task, but if you work at a desk long enough you pretty much become an expert.

When the knots get big enough, you can try to massage them out. That works for a little bit, but nothing—nothing!—beats an honest-to-goodness massage. I should know. I grow shoulder knots like I’m getting paid for it.

The first time I got a massage, I thought I died and went to Heaven. Now that I’ve gotten a bunch more, I know that’s exactly what happened. So I can totally understand why researchers who analyzed a bunch of studies found that massage can relieve symptoms of depression. It’s. That. Amazing.

(In all seriousness, it’s hard to really determine the effects of massage in studies because you can’t really blind the participants. There’s no such thing as fake massage.)

Though it has nothing to do with the study, I’m pretty sure massage can also relieve the symptoms of stress. I conducted a study with me, myself, and I and lemme tell ya, I felt muuuch better.

Since I’ve had a lot of massages in the past, I thought I’d impart some massage wisdom. And then I’ll take up a donation for my next rubdown. (I have no shame, people. No shame.)

[Read more →]

photo by mona rocks…not

I hope you all had a fantastic weekend. The Man and I spent Easter at his brother’s house where we watched my nephew stuff so many malted milk eggs into his mouth that he spent the evening with a blue mustache and goatee. Ah, the lure of candy hidden in eggs.

So today I thought I’d give you the blow-by-blow on allergies. If you don’t have allergies this time of year, most people probably hate you. Don’t worry too much about that. They’re really just jealous.

But if your allergies attack as soon as trees start budding, find out what’s really going on. It’s not pretty, people.

What are allergies?
I’ve never seen one—they’re sneaky little bastards—but I did some digging and found that allergies are really little gremlins that attack at night when your windows are open. You might be thinking you’re letting some fresh air into your cigarette-smoky apartment, but you’d be wrong. You’re really inviting a bunch of little allergens into your room. For the unfamiliar, here is a scientific rendering of an actual allergy… [Read more →]

photo by didbygrahams
I’ve got it! I’ll start the no-corners diet.
(And, um, pretend there’s an apostrophe in that It’s. Tsk. Tsk.)

Let’s talk about diets today. (No, I’m not going on one. That would be laughable if you saw what I ate for dessert last night.) Nah, I wanted to chat a bit about crazy diets because Wren brought up a good point on this post. She said she’s used to hearing a commercial while on hold with the VA Medical Center—I say she’s lucky it’s not Muzak because there’s nothing like Muzak to put you asleep before you get to make your appointment.

Anyhow, Wren said the commercial goes something like this: “Did you know that if you cut 100 calories a day out of your diet, you’ll lose 10 pounds in a year?” So, she wonders, “Is what the VA says true?”

Glad you asked.

For all of the diets out there—no carb, no sugar, no fun, and so on—we lose weight in a pretty simple way. (And, by the way, did you know there is an eat-for-your-blood-type diet? I’m not sure if this is just riding the Twilight wave, but it’s a little out there. If it takes off, though, I might create the eat-for-your-DNA diet. Darn, someone already thought of that scam diet.) Here’s the deal: 3,500 calories equals one pound. So in order to gain a pound, you’d have to eat 3,500 more calories than you burn. And to lose a pound, you’d have to burn 3,500 more calories than you eat.

[Read more →]