Books, Doctors, and Marriage (None of Them Mine)

Sometimes, when I don't know what to write about, I scour my Twitter feed and hope that something catches my attention. A couple of things did, so yay, there's a post today.

First up, in the world of cheerful bloggery, I came across a tweet from my redoubtable friend Kate (she of BookCrossing fame). She shared the news that a fellow resident of Blogspot, book reviewer Evie-Bookish, is celebrating the acquisition of her 200th follower by hosting a young adult literature giveaway. This is a great idea and if I ever reach 200 followers, I might do something similar. Actually, I don't have the patience for that, so I might do something when I reach 20 followers. Anyway, if you click on that link, Evie explains what you need to do in order to be eligible to win your choice of some YA series.

One of the feeds I track regularly on Twitter is that of Doctors Without Borders. Recently, they've been posting something I thought was pretty disturbing. According to their information, pharmaceutical giant Johnson & Johnson holds the patents for three HIV drugs that are desperately needed in the developing world. There is what's called a "patent pool," which is a setup designed to make it easier for people in developing countries to afford the medicines they need. Guess who's refusing to participate in the patent pool, and is thus making it impossible for people who need those HIV drugs to get them?

The article is here. It includes a video that can explain the patent pool better than I can, and a downloadable letter that you can send to J&J to urge them to join the patent pool. Also, if you're on Twitter, you can follow Doctors Without Borders and participate in the viral retweeting to try to get J&J to change their minds.

Finally, I'm having a really hard time finding information about tomorrow's royal wedding, because it's receiving so little news coverage. *rimshot* No, I'm happy for Prince William and his princess-to-be, I am. The British royal family fascinates me and I've devoted countless hours of free time to studying the Plantagenets, Yorks, Tudors, and...I've completely forgotten what Queen Victoria's family was but them too.

Will and Kate's ceremony is not the marriage I want to talk about here, though. I recently became acquainted with the existence of Girl Up, a United Nations program designed to empower girls and help them change the world. Their representatives recently visited Ethiopia and talked with teenaged girls who were fortunate enough to escape from what they call child marriage. In developing countries, one out of every seven girls is married by the age of 15; as they say in the video of the experience, some are betrothed or even married as young as five. Do you remember what you did when you were five? I'm not sure I do, but I'm pretty certain it had nothing to do with being somebody's wife.

Here is the video. I liked the part where one father said he will support his daughter's education rather than get her married young, and that he hopes she becomes a doctor. So much eye-opening information crammed into just over three minutes! This is definitely worth passing on, so that's what I'm doing.

I hope you'll do it too.

Pizza Topics

Before I get started, I wanted to say hi to Nate and Heather, who are (if they didn't lose that business card I gave them) among my newest readers. Nate recently volunteered at my branch of Ten Thousand Villages over the weekend, and is the source of my new workplace nickname. After watching me repair a necklace and reverse-engineer a broken wind chime into a set of ornaments, he inquired, "So are you, like, the resident MacGyver of this outfit?" Apparently I am, and so it has stuck. Thanks, Nate!

Moving on, this blog post is for Jaclyn, she of the St. Margaret's Center bake sale back in December.

Jaclyn and I have been friends for about four years and change, but we only got to meet in person for the first time earlier this month. My friend Cat, while taking me to Genericon, very kindly detoured from the usual route long enough for us to swing by Jaclyn's place, where we were warmly welcomed by herself, her parents, and her dog. She took us to a local establishment for pizza to sustain us on our journey, and the pizza was both crispy and chewy -- a winning combination.

While deciding what to order, however, I had one of my charming mental hiccups. I'm picky about my pizza toppings, always have been; there are in fact very few toppings that I'm willing to eat. Extra cheese, bacon, and sometimes chicken and onions. That's really about it. So while apologizing to my companions for this fussiness, what I intended to say was that "I'm very picky about my pizza toppings."

Apparently, what I actually said was "I'm very picky about my pizza topics."

Jaclyn, never being one to shy away from a chance to poke affectionate fun at her pseudo-surrogate mother, immediately seized upon this and demanded that it eventually appear in the blog. (As a sidebar, I feel like this blog has become the weirdest addition to my social life in forever. Any time something humorous, memorable, or just plain odd happens in a social setting, whoever is with me will invariably comment that it needs to be added to the blog. See my entry about Satan's Grandma for a prime example. I love my friends!) It got a bit delayed, but here it is.

I only like specific pizza topics.

What's with the argument about Chicago style versus New York style? And which one is it that I'm eating? I know one (Chicago, I think) is more of a deep-dish kind of thing, so does that mean that typical pizzeria fare hews more closely to the New York style? And if not, is there something in between?

The bigger question -- why do people get so vitriolic over their preferences for one or the other? Could the plot of West Side Story be somehow revamped to work with this? The rival gangs now dance on rooftops while declaring their loyal preference for one type of pizza over the other.

Anchovies. Seriously? Little tiny fish on my pizza? Do people really eat this? I guess they do, because why else would it be offered, but...seriously?

I love mozzarella cheese, but I recently determined that I only really enjoy it on pizza. Why is it better there? I bought a small block of mozzarella at the grocery store to munch on, having been told by my friend and coworker Whitney that it's one of her favorite snacks, and I just can't eat most of it. Even string cheese sticks, which I like, are improved dramatically (in my opinion) by dipping them in tomato sauce. What is it about pizza that makes mozzarella more palatable?

Why does my cat like pizza? No, I'm not making that up. Maddy (the little black one) has stolen pizza from my husband. She just seizes the corner and noms to her little heart's content. I don't understand that. Cats aren't supposed to like bread, cheese, or tomatoes. I could understand her stealing a piece of chicken or bacon, but she eats the actual pizza.

Still pondering anchovies...

Jaclyn, I hope you're happy. You know what this post has accomplished? It's made me insanely hungry. As for the rest of you, feel free to share your opinions on pizza topics in the comments. I'll just be over here, calling my good friend Papa John.