The Heavyside Layer

Some random thoughts and details about Delhi.

2010-05-31T04:03:00.003-04:00

Okay, so people have been asking me for an update, and one of my assignments on this internship is to turn out a couple of blog entries, so I'm hoping to start with this update and then cut and paste and add and edit for my assignment. What I'm saying is this is (hopefully) essentially a very rough copy of what I need to write.

It's taken awhile to write this. Why? Because I wanted to write it when I was in a happy-to-be-in-India kind of mood. So far, that feeling is few and far between for a number of reasons. I am already concerned about what impression my Westernized, limited, somewhat bitter perspective is going to give about this whole experience, and so writing when I'm additionally cranky worries me all the more. I will do my best to give a fair and balanced account on what things are like here, and if you have any comments or questions I'm sure you'll waste no time posting them, that is, if you care enough to read all this...

Speaking of which, a quick but heartfelt thank you to those of you who have recently sent messages and emails showing interest in my life and in this trip, it’s very much appreciated. An additional thank you to those of you who made it out the night before I left, as (like I tried to convey) I very much needed support at that moment, since I have been freaking out about this trip for a good month before I left. I tend to rely on my Toronto friends the most when I need emotional support, and this is the first time I really relied on my Ottawa ones, so thank you for those of you who came through. It will not be forgotten.

That being said, if you are one of those people who I feel care enough to potentially read (or briefly skim) this note, you have been tagged.

But I digress.

So India...

Well,

India. Is. Intense.

Well, not India. Delhi. I know only a small part of India, and that is the largest, most bustling urban centre I could ever imagine. Everything about it is intense: the heat, the amount of people, the pollution, the heat, the traffic, the garbage, the heat, the shops, the food, the heat, you get the idea... it’s unbearably hot, which I am finding it incredibly hard to adjust to. I am sure Cambodia was not that much cooler when I was there a couple of years ago, but maybe those 4 or 5 degrees make all the difference? Who knows. All I know is I sweat in places I didn’t know existed until now, and I have been suffering from dehydration and terrible stomach and head pains for the past two weeks.

It, quite frankly, sucks. I have spent the better part of the last week and a half home sick, with major cramps, addressing emails, watching Glee online, and writing “homesick” in my status updates.

Even as I am writing this, I feel like you who are reading this is disappointed in me. Disappointed I’m not out having the time of my life or something, like living up some glamorous life in India, being all exotic and bourgeois and shit, on vacation for the summer, in incredible India.

Well let me tell you something right now, if you’re looking for a note that reads like an excerpt from “Eat, Pray, Love” you’re not going to get it. This ain’t no chick lit story. This is me, who picked a placement overseas because I need the job experience, because it’s giving me school credit, and because I feel like it’s the kind of test I need to be giving myself in order to build 1) character, 2) knowledge, and determine if I’m going into the right field, and where in that field I might want to be.

And if those are my goals, I am in the exact place I need to be right now, because my placement is the most brilliant place of work I’ve ever been a part of. Hands down. All the background noise can be adjusted to through hard work and commitment, and that is what needs to be done. I’m just extra cranky because I’ve had to miss work so much the past two weeks, but I’m hoping that will change by the end of this week...

But I digress.

For those of you who don’t know (because even I didn’t really know until I got here) I’m working at the Don Bosco Ashalayam in Vikaspuri, New Delhi. The centre I’m at is one of three in the city that works in conjunction with UNHCR, to help motivate, educate and empower young refugees from Afghanistan, Burma/Myanmar and Somalia. The centre offers a wide range of services from classes to counselling, job placement, and youth groups, where the students can create small communities based on ethnic similarities, and work together on a variety of projects including small business ventures and big sports matches and song and dance competitions. There is also a business run out of the centre by refugee women, called Koshish, which is centered on clothes making.

My job is to help with the youth groups; there are 9 in total, 7 that operate out of Vikaspuri. This is mighty cool for a variety of reasons. First, I’m not only exposed to Indian culture, but I’m getting a taste of Afghani and Burmese culture as well (the Somali students are based out of another centre across town). Second, the people who work at the centre are amazing. They are incredibly vibrant and caring, and so warm and welcoming. My supervisor Shruti does everything to make me feel included and that my opinion is important; it is very evident that she invests much of herself into her work and the youth groups she leads. Third, the students are fantastic. I had a very different image of what to expect where I would be working. The students I’ve met so far are really passionate and so funny. They are strong, capable youth many of which who are really dedicated to the work they are doing within the groups.

I was pretty stressed the first few days after arriving, lots to take in and not in the greatest emotional state. I didn’t have a host family yet, and so I was staying at the president of the local NGO’s house, which was really nice, and his family is pretty awesome, but it didn’t help with the feeling out-of-placeness because I couldn’t really get comfortable there, and I was still anxious about what my more permanent home and place of work would be like. I was really nervous about staying with a host family, for many, many reasons (which I’ll get into later), and really curious to see what my placement was like. Three days after my arrival, I got my answer to both.

The first time I visited the Don Bosco Ashalayam, I will never forget. Honestly, the days preceding this one I felt almost as though I had been abandoned by God, sort of. I don’t really believe in God, the way religions describe “him” to be. I believe in a sort of energy force that is like the same stuff we are made up of. Weirded out? Don’t be, I’m not really going to get into all that here. I’m just saying that I usually feel connected to this force or whatever, and it’s what I look to for a sense of strength, faith and guidance, (but I don’t really believe this force exists outside of us, so the fact that I was feeling disconnected from it was probably more my own fault than the feeling that “God had abandoned me” which is a bit overdramatic). ANYWAYS, this sort of energy force thing I feel sends signs and all that, you know, to like reaffirm when you’re in the right place or doing the right thing (right for you), but I was feeling majorly out of touch, out of sorts, and totally in the wrong place, that is, until I got to the Ashalayam...

You see, I’ve always had this thing for Michael Jackson, especially the song “Heal the World”. When I was nine, I got to go to Switzerland for the Christmas break to visit relatives and I remember Michael Jackson was everywhere. My uncle made me a tape of his ‘Dangerous’ album and I must have listened to it at least 300 times on my Sony Walkman. That’s the album with “Heal the World” on it, that and “Black or White”. When I was in grade 4 and in the sign language club at my old elementary school in Pickering, “Heal the World” was one of the songs we signed at the old folk’s home where we performed. It’s a really great song and to this day whenever I hear it I kind of tear up a bit (or sometimes a lot, depending on, you know, what’s going on in my life, or hormones, or whatever).

So anyways, it turns out the Monday I showed up to meet the boss, the lady who accepted me as an intern, she was in meetings, and so I sat in the waiting area (which is outside because the whole building is all open and airy and hard to explain to people who have never seen it) and as it turns out the students were practicing for a big meet the next day, they were singing, more specifically they were singing “Heal the World”.

So as I stood there dripping sweat, a million miles from home, wondering what the hell I was doing with my life and how a string of thoughts, decisions, and actions had all led me to this precise place at this precise time, I realized that this was a sign, and that this place was going to have a profound impact on me whether I liked it or not. Unfortunately, as mentioned, I haven’t been attending work as often as I’d like, but the times I have been there it’s been really lovely and I will expand on all that more later. But now on to some of the other things here...

Like my host family, who is surprisingly wonderful but somewhat difficult to fit into at times. It’s a really cool set up they have going: four level house, one brother plus his respective family on each floor. We’re on the top floor with house mum and pops, brother and sister. Family and community are huge here, and I am an extremely independent and private person who relishes her North American freedom; this poses a bit of a problem. There are three rooms, plus a small kitchen and bathroom (with an actual toilet – praise the lord, most houses have squatters), and its typical for everyone to sleep in the same room and even the same bed, as I found out on my first night. Quite the change from my 7 bedroom house at home, complete with queen-size canopy bed all to myself. Given the population of Delhi (half of that of Canada with a tidy 14 million), real estate is quite pricey, and it is simply not feasible for all people to have their own rooms. Understandable, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. The heat makes it unbearable to go anywhere, and since I’ve been sick I can’t leave the house, so even in comparison to my old house in Ottawa, I’m really feeling the space constraints.

And of course, living with a whole bunch of people as a family is really new and difficult for me. It makes me realize how free and independent I’ve been for the past ten years of my life, just looking after my own needs, doing what I want, when I want, how I want, etc. I left high school and moved out around the age of 18, and even when I moved back home after two years in Barrie and downtown Toronto I worked all the time, paid a small fee for rent, and essentially did my own thing... when we moved from our old house to the enormous one which my family currently resides in, I took over the basement apartment, continuing to live with my family as more or less a tenant. There is undoubtedly a mixture of pros and cons that accompanied this lifestyle. I also had my own car (which I paid for by working three jobs before going to college), and, paired with extremely liberal parents and a not-so-cohesive family environment, I could basically do anything I wanted. Since then, as I moved to Ottawa and continued to live so far from my family, I’ve grown even further from them, and relationships are built on exchanging details, not asking permission. Advice maybe, taking opinions into consideration, but that’s it. We more or less respect each other as individuals (for the most part) and although we tend to criticize and judge each other’s mistakes, it remains up to the individual to make those mistakes.

All this leads me to big questions about identity. I mean, one thing that I find a bit hard here is people keep asking me what “Canadians” do, as if we are all unified in all our decisions, as if Canadian culture is universalized across the provinces... so the challenges I’m facing here, I feel, have little to do with the fact that I am Canadian and more with myself as an individual, and who I am based on my personal experiences and thoughts, which have come about through the almost limitless freedom I’ve had as a Canadian, growing up in North American culture. I will elaborate more in a minute, but first I want to finish my thoughts on the family values bit.

When I went to South East Asia, I was grouped in and living with 13 fellow Canadians, and that makes (as I have recently discovered) a monumental difference. We were immersed in a different culture, but we still had a sense of familiarity between each other. We may have been a tight for space at camp but people would just do their own thing and that would be totally cool. Here, I am part of a unit, and I don’t really get to make my own decisions about things. I get told what to do, where to go, when to do something almost constantly... and I’m finding it exceedingly difficult to adjust to. I also feel dominated by males a lot, which is REALLY difficult. I can’t figure out if I’m being treated this way because I’m a female or because I’m a foreigner, or both, and I am afraid to assert myself in my usual way because of cultural sensitivities.

The past little while I’ve tried to just take some space and I am sadly chained to my computer (I think I mentioned this already). It helps because I can just sort of retreat into myself a bit, but it’s bad because it’s making me increasingly homesick, and longing for all sorts of things which I can’t have (like a gigantic turkey club with extra mayo), so it’s very unhealthy. Also, it’s not good for my family vibe either, as they can see that I’m not really engaging in the culture or experience.

But I don’t know what to do. I feel like cultural sensitivity is important, but I don’t know how much of myself or my identity I have to compromise to be here and meet people’s expectations. Furthermore, I don’t know how comfortable I am with compromising myself, which makes me wonder if I am a bad person. I have spent the last two years at university being exposed to new ideas, and exploring/creating a whole new side of myself, and then that side of myself now needs to be tempered (to an extent) in order to fit in here and have a good time or get the most out of this experience.

It seems like a fine balance I haven’t quite figured out, and I apologize if all this comes off vague or confusing. I’m just sort of writing out as I think. I am mostly relating to things like gender and social standing and how in India (or Delhi at least) there is such a clash of modern and traditional, new and old, progressive and past, and it extends to way of life as well as ideology.

While I continue to contemplate things like personal identity, cultural relativism, family values, and the like, there are still a slew of other topics worth mentioning here, which I will touch on and hopefully get more into later.

One thing I really like here, which I think ties into the very taboo culture of sex and dating, is how affectionate men are with men, and women with women, and it’s perfectly cool and normal. At first, I thought India had an expansive homosexual population (especially since same-sex marriage is legal here), but it turns out men are just really friendly and cuddly with each other and this is so refreshing! I think it ties into the taboo because it’s how people get that feeling of intimacy without being in a sexual relationship (which from my understanding is pretty much a no-no until you’re older and your parents approve). Also, men can totally listen to music like the Backstreet Boys and Miley Cyrus and that is also perfectly kosher. My seventeen year-old host brother listens to “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion like ten times a day, no joke, and although I can’t stand Celine Dion (like any true-blooded Canadian) it is comforting to see a culture where men are not bound by stereotypical idea of manliness and can enjoy a range of interests without fearing ridicule.

I’m still trying to figure out where I stand on the rights of women here though, and where the women themselves stand. But I’ll chew on that some more and get into it next time. Hopefully by then I’ll be a bit better and more positive. If there’s anything you want to clarify or know more about... don’t be afraid to ask... and to anyone who actually read all this, kudos. Let me buy you a cold one next time I see you...

WHAT IS WRONG WITH GAGA'S NEW VIDEO.

2010-03-14T18:13:00.016-04:00

Okay, so I used to really like Lady Gaga. I know, I know...she's another pop princess, but her tunes were fun and she had a little spunk, so I let it slide. Her new song "Telephone", feat. Beyonce is damn catchy, and - in an attempt to get it out of my head - I searched it on YouTube. A link came up and I innocently clicked on it.

This is when a little bit of me died in side. As I continued to watch, the more HORRIFIED I became.

I'm not sure how to list all the problems with this video. I will try to do it chronologically, but I'm sure by most horrendous would work just as well...

The video starts off with titles, like a movie "starring" Lady Gaga & Beyonce. First scene is in a prison: Gaga is being led in and along the bottom the words "Prison for Bitches" is scrawled, along with the date.

She looks like a wannabe 80's Madonna and is flanked by two stacked and (somewhat) scantily dressed women guards. The reason I point out the physique of the guards, is because it contrasts so blatantly with that of the sexed-up inmates who are in full makeup and cutesy outfits, looking extremely sultry and badass behind bars. Their body language is very clear; one woman is even licking the bars of her cell.

So far - this is not much to get ruffled about. I don't like how women are portrayed in most music videos, primarily because they seem to always be fulfilling the same kind of role. I'm all for women exercising their sexuality, but it's always the same image doing the same things... Anyways, this is not a rant about women in music videos, so much as it a rant about Gaga. So let's continue...

This is where things start to get really ugly. So I'm thinking to myself that it's sickening that a prison is being portrayed in this way, since prisons are nothing like this and I'm not really keen on the idea of sexualizing crime, profiting off the images of oversexed female "deviants", etc. But hey it's pop music, so am I really surprised? Blah, blah, blah...

The guards proceed to force Gaga into the cell, where they strip her down and lay her on the bed in nothing but her boots and pantyhose, no undies. So as the guards are leaving, she jumps up against the bars where the camera zooms in on her crotch - and although it is scrambled for censorship purposes, it implies that there is a very nice, freshly waxed, vagina there and nothing "more" as opposed to what has been implied in the media in the last few months. As the guards walk away one says "I told you she didn't have a dick," and the other replies " Too bad".

Really? Like are you fucking serious?

So not only does this prove how terribly insecure Gaga is about her bits and her need to conform to traditional hetero-normative standards (she is after all, a popstar), but I find this hugely offensive. Maybe I'm misreading this, but given the context and the way the guard says it - it just screams that she is trying to prove that she's not a hermaphrodite because that would be a "bad" thing.

Now, I think it's bullshit that people care so much about this issue, and I don't understand what it has to do with her music. I also understand that it's completely fair to want to make sure people have the correct impression of who you are, and who you choose to market yourself as. I thought it was awesome how she put on a strap-on for her shoot with "Q" magazine; what a cool way to address the claims while still pushing the boundaries. But why this?

Next scene cuts to the exercise yard, where all the beautiful bad women are bulking up with weights, in heels no less.

Gaga comes out wearing goggles made of cigarettes. Lit up cigarettes. So glad she is a teen idol.

Shots around the yard reveal more super-hot, glam inmates. I will give credit for the fact that there is diversity in body type at this point. Gaga starts to get hot with one of the inmates - no problems here, except I am not sure about the very obvious emphasis on Gaga's crotch again - a friendly reminder of the last part of the first scene, I'm sure.

This is where a new theme is introduced. The branding. A cellphone with the virgin mobile logo is pulled from her pants and flashed for the camera. I'm with Telus. Thanks though!

It might also be good to note that the music has yet to start. I thought this was a music video?

Gaga is paged on the loudspeaker - she has a call. Does that happen in prison? No, I don't think so. Oh but wait, this video is about making prison look fun and sexy! My bad, I forgot.

Second attempt at branding: Gaga has Diet Coke cans in her hair as curlers. Why? This is not "edgy". There is trash in your hair and you are promoting one of the worst corporations on the planet. Kudos!

I do have to say (though I really hate to admit it) she does look absolutely gorgeous - but mostly because I dig the dark makeup in this scene.

A catfight is going on. Not sure what the point of this is really. Even from a marketing perspective - isn't it mostly women watching this? Inmates get riled up, only to hear another page: Beyonce is on the line.

Ah, here the song starts... Gaga is apparently not impressed about Beyonce calling her, she's "busy" apparently.

Cut back to the line of cells, there's some dancing, with some other hot chicks. Yes, it's hot. But that doesn't make it right. Bras, panties, fishnets, stillettos. Tiny waists. Dark makeup. Shots that focus exclusively on sexual body parts. Blah, blah, blah. Interspersed with Gaga wearing only caution tape. Holes in her pantyhose. Blah, blah, blah. Another shot of the cell with the virgin mobile logo - haha "telephone" I get it. So smart.

At this point I am starting to seriously wonder what the hell Beyonce has to do with this little "project".

No need for me to worry about that for much longer though. Beyonce bails Gaga out of prison, and as she is walking out the door we see the guard with branding numero trois: Plenty of Fish is up on her computer and she logs in as "MissOfficer". It makes sure you can see membership is free. Again, really?

(I have zero problems with POF, it's the branding I'm trying to point out)

Cut to Beyonce and Gaga in the car. Beyonce points out Gaga has been a very bad girl. They share a Honey Bee Doughnut. Do I hear branding #5? I think there is also a 6th one with the leftover drive-thru litter in the car, but I don't recognize it.

They discuss some lame plan with lame analogies. Mirrors, cows; sure, whatever. Where did the music go? Oh! There it is! Beyonce has her solo while driving. She is also wearing dark make-up but is dressed somewhat more tastefully.

Enter the diner. Change of outfit. Beyonce sits down with some guy at a table. There are US themed (red and white stripes, blue and white stars) placemats (I puke a little in my mouth). Close up on Beyonce's breasts, which I think is supposed to imply the guy looking at them, then a shot of her looking kind of irritated. Mixed message much? She calls him Honey; he refers to her as Bitch.

Guy gets up and is a complete douche to two other women in the diner, allowing Beyonce to pour some sort of blue liquid into his coffee.

Cut back to Gaga in the kitchen - note #7 the Wonder bread on the counter. New outfit complete with funky looking telephone hat. Lots of hot men wearing makeup dancing around (that part is cool). Nothing too out of bounds here. It's suggestive, they make a sandwich, close-up on the mayonaisse - #8 Miracle Whip.

The guy in the diner is coughing - most likely due to the poison. Gaga pours more poison into the Honey Bee (#9? #5 again?) honey. Gaga makes up breakfast and serves it in 12" heels.

Guy dives into breakfast. I think the way this is portrayed is somewhat problematic, if you look into how certain minorities are sometimes portrayed, being "uncivilized" and such. However, after this guy is eating and coughing and dying, the whole diner is seen doing the same thing so maybe I'm overreacting to this one. Note Beyonce's perfectly manicured nails as she raises her hand to her mouth in mock surprise.

But here is where it really gets me mad again. Everyone in the diner is dead, and we now have Gaga in some ridiculous American bikini, and Beyonce wearing - what looks like - an American flag as a tubedress. Patriotism anyone? Other dancers wear American colours, interspersed with close-ups of the dead peoples faces. No explanation why all these other people are dead. That is apparently unimportant. But Miracle Whip is...

Music continues. Beyonce gets some more screen time. Scene changes to Gaga in some ridiculous cheetah chaffeur outfit. Blah, blah, blah. News reports announce a mass homicide, and that the suspects had fled in a "pussy wagon"(perhaps an ultra-lame attempt at a Grease reference?).

They drive off into the sunset together...hand in hand...and there is a promise that this ludicrousness will be continued... *shudder*.

Maybe I haven't been seeing too much of music videos lately... but I am blown away by this. There are all the usual problems I'm used to, plus attacks on peoples sexuality, blind patriotism and obscene capitalistic branding every 30 seconds. Yes, all you haters will tell me not to watch it - but I'm not asking anyone to read this. I'm just putting my two cents out there. I know academia makes you an incredibly critical person (see upcoming rant on Alice in Wonderland) but I wouldn't have to be so critical if stupid people stopped making such shitty music videos.

Watch it for yourself

Want to learn more about sexism in music videos?
You can watch the whole thing on YouTube.

Megapixels and Micheal Jackson

2008-05-17T01:23:00.005-04:00

Last year for my birthday, my dad and stepmother got me a camera for my birthday. We discussed megapixels. The new camera was a whopping 7.2, compared to my previous 3.something. I remember my stepmother saying too many megapixels was no good anyway because it would just allot you to zoom up on skin imperfections/flaws/etc. This was true and amusing and also sort of sad. As I get older I feel as though I have more megapixels. The closer I get to people, the more flawed everyone is. Including myself. This is unbearably depressing.

On a sadder note, I have recently reaquainted myself with the album from my childhood Marlo Thomas and Friends' Free to Be You and Me. This has enormous sentimental value for many, many reasons...most prominently because I sang the title song in choir in my public school at the time where I was undoubtedly the most happy (and innocent) in life. The words and lessons and values from this album are immeasurable, and last night I cried as I watched "When we grow up" on YouTube sung by Michael Jackson and Roberta Flack. It is a song about accepting yourself for who you are and not changing to suit the needs of others. But looking at Michael Jackson today, who has done virtually everything to change his appearance, how does one's heart not break?

The New Blog

2008-01-21T01:58:00.001-05:00

My resolution (or one of them) is to start blogging again. There is no reason not to, and plenty reason to...so...voila. I am always bored here. I have little motivation to make new friends, because I am not particularly intrigued by anyone I have met, and I feel significantly older than most of my classmates. Basically, I'm not here to party...and if you're not a university to party, good luck making friends.

So instead of picking fights with people on msn, or creeping on Facebook. I should put all that energy to good use and release all my negativity here.

So today marks a new day, and a new blog. Get ready...

Ignorance is Misery - Totalitarian States - Have we progessed beyond them?

2007-12-19T16:32:00.000-05:00

It's a shame in school we write so many essays, and then after we hand them in they sort of dissapear and all the work goes to waste. I don't post here often anymore because i don't make the time. Goal for 2008: Make more time. Until then you can chew on this essay:

Ignorance is Misery

Since the beginning of literature, animals have been used to illustrate human lore. Many myths, fables, and stories tell of humanized beasts given personalities and characteristics exclusive to man in order to prove a point or teach a value. This is an extremely effective way of combining education and entertainment: It changes the way we view members of the animal kingdom, equating them with kinds of people. It also intrigues the reader on an imaginative level and can simplify social or political situations, making it easier for the author or story-teller to drive his or her point home. Both George Orwell’s Animal Farm and Richard Adams’ Watership Down are examples of literature where domestic animals are personified to illustrate political values; at some point in each novel, tyrannical rule by animal is instilled to demonstrate the evils of totalitarian regimes. Both stories reduce human characteristics and ideologies to animalistic behaviour, making them appear savage and uncivilized, and both sets of animals demonstrate authentic ways in which power is obtained and maintained through manipulation and exploitation.
However, it is imperative to discern that the pigs in Animal Farm rely on and perpetuate the ignorance of the rest of the farm in order to accomplish their dirty deeds and manage to oppress the farm inevitably, while the rabbits condemned to Efrafa completely understand what is happening to them but are merely powerless to stop it, for a time. This is the key difference in the animals’ fate: so long as one remains ignorant there is no chance for change; they will be forced into the most debilitating kind of oppression a state can face and suffer complete subordination. Just as importantly, one must note that while the dictator pigs are motivated by greed and are based on real people and actual historical events, the fascist rabbits are motivated by fear and remain purely fictional. The outcome of the farmyard in Orwell’s novel may seem more devastating because of the motivation and methods in which the pigs use, and because his writing is grounded in actual fact, conversely, it is the culture of fear and control represented in Efrafa that may harshly afflict readers today because of the increase of ignorance and irrational security measures since the events of September 11th 2001.
Animal Farm is a short novel using a myriad of barnyard animals to reenact the Soviet Union in the early 20th century. It is chock-full of allegory, starting off with an old wise pig, Old Major, which represents Karl Marx, who explains to the rest of the farm that they are being used by Mr. Jones, the farmer, and that he profits immensely from all their hard work while they all have very little to show for it. This is meant to demonstrate the relationship between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie, where the upper classes gain wealth by controlling the means of production, forcing labourers to work for less than they are worth, and making them believe this is the best way to earn a living. Old Major passes away, but not before setting the animals into an uproar and inspiring them to devise a plan to take over the farm; they create a system in which all animals are treated fairly and freely. They want to be able to work for themselves, and enjoy all the fruits of their labour.
The farm then achieves this sense of communism and equality, and everything goes smoothly until the rest of the pigs discover the simplicity of the other animals; they begin to slowly take over the farm, eventually replacing Mr. Jones as head of state. At first they exercise authority by supervising the other animals, devising new ways to improve production, and ensuring they themselves receive the best of everything. But the pigs are far more vicious and violent then the former leader and use a gradual process of lies and executions to confuse the other animals, ensuring they believe their new life is an improvement from the past. The horses, sheep, cows, ducks, and chickens do not have the memory or brain power to realize what is going on, and fall swift and easy prey to the cunning pigs and their malicious dog-police. It is their lack of awareness and inability to question authority that allows the pig’s complete domination of the farm.
The rabbits on Watership Down, on the other hand, live out an extensive story of trial and triumph, following a particular band of rabbits that are forced to leave their home warren being torn up by construction. It deals with a variety of human symbolism and political issues, but most relevant here is the warren Efrafa, where these rabbits must go in search of does (females) to bring back to their new warren in order to preserve their survival. They are met with a challenge, however, when they find themselves having to illustrate a “break out” from this rabbit prison. Whereas in most warrens rabbits are free to feed and mate and live as they like, in Efrafa everything is controlled to remain concealed from men, under the belief that men will bring disease and destruction to everything they see. Efrafa’s leader, General Woundwort, keeps every bit of rabbit life concealed, from hiding holes, to burying feces, to keeping all rabbits identified, and only letting a certain amount above ground to feed at one time. Everything is under strict observation, and nothing happens within Efrafa’s parameters which are not immediately reported to Woundwort and his council. There are no secrets in Efrafa. Rabbits are not allowed to mix with other rabbits without permission; they spend most of their lives underground, and are under no circumstances allowed to leave the warren.
The conflict in Efrafa arises when it becomes overcrowded. Unhappy does will not give birth to rabbit kittens, and unhappy, discomfited rabbits are likely to just give up and “stop running” (Adams, 327). Although many of the rabbits accept the tradeoff of complete safety for complete control with apathy, there are some who are considered “rebels” with aims to fight the system. These rabbits recognize the structure of Efrafa, understand its benefits and weaknesses, and realize there is little hope for reform or revolution because of the “Owslafa” or “rabbit police” in place (Adams, 244). A band of does asks to leave and start a new warren far away (to help solve the overcrowding problem) are turned down and split up within the warren, and one rabbit, Blackavar, who tries to escape is hunted down and brutally mutilated. The main problem in Efrafa is the frustration the rabbits feel because they resent their living situation, yet are powerless to influence it in any way. They have limited control over their own lives, and must suffer the consequences of a society wrought with an irrational level of fear.
Tyrannical leaders must use fear in order to control; it is necessary for oppression. It dulls the mind and breaks the spirit. The easiest way to perpetuate fear is through ignorance. The late Professor Gregory S. Kavka writes:

“(T)he rule of a perfect tyrant must ultimately be based on ignorance of some sort. For it informs us that if rational citizens' true beliefs about each other's numbers and disapproval of the ruler are extensive enough (i.e., extend to sufficiently high order), rule purely by fear is impossible.” (610)

If people, or in this case animals, have a sense of what’s going on, or they discover that they are not alone in their skepticism of an authority figure, they will be far more likely to band together and try to do something about it. An effective dictator ensures his subjects fear him, but also each other, so that the prospect of reform is slim. This can be done by limiting or distorting information about what is actually going on, and by corrupting one’s views of their peers or comrades. This technique is used in Animal Farm to unite the animals under a (false) common enemy, to ensure the animals do not trust one another.
When it comes to fighting oppression, Isaac Prilleltensky and Lev Gonick have done extensive research on the political and psychological reasons and repercussions of oppression. Their work reveals that the first step towards action is “conscientization”, defining it as “the process whereby individuals and groups achieve an illuminating awareness of the socioeconomic, political, cultural, and psychological factors that determine their lives and their capacity to transform that reality.” (139)
This process takes place in five stages: Acritical, Adaptive, Pre-critical, Critical, and Liberation (Prilleltensky and Gonick 139). Acritical is denial of oppression, by choice or through incomprehension, the result is blind acceptance of one’s surroundings; Adaptive is an understanding of authority’s influence with disbelief in a potential change, and a make-the-best-of-it kind of attitude; Pre-critical is a recognition of oppression and where it is coming from, and the beginning of a defiant attitude; Critical is the birth of rebellion, a belief that reform is needed, and possible; and Liberation is the active awareness and pursuit of that reform, denial no longer being an option. (Prilleltensky and Gonick 139)
The rabbits of Efrafa, through the help of those who seek them, proceed through all five stages, allowing them to reach an adequate sense of reform. The reader witnesses characters from Adaptive to Liberation, with adequate background suggesting “Acritical” at the forming of Efrafa and its beginning. These animals become fully liberated, thanks to the increased awareness they held onto and failed to relinquish. The animals of the farm are, sadly, not so lucky, and neither were the Soviet’s forced to live through Stalin’s reign. They begin at “Acritical” until Old Major enlightens them, where they progress through the stages rapidly, and secure hold of the farm. But just as quickly they revert back to “Acritical” under the pigs, and remain there until death. There is no hope for them to complete the cycle again without some recognition that the system is bad. The pigs have the animals trapped in a web of confusion and deceit. Although a handful of the animals, like Clover, have an inkling something is wrong, the furthest she gets is to the “Adaptive” stage.
These examples show how the victims of Animal Farm were kept in the dark, and this led to their ultimate undoing. In Watership Down, it is General Woundwort who is plagued by close-minded disregard of reason. The General lives in constant fear, and forces everyone around him to live in a way that suppresses the simple joys of life. Although he is correct in being cautious, the extent to which he takes security becomes compulsive, and makes him unreasonable and unfair. While the General aims to keep men, the ultimate enemy, away, he is unwittingly destroying his warren from the inside, and is overly sensitive to every potential danger.
Similarly, since the falling of the World Trade Center in New York six years ago, there has been an immense increase in security to “protect” US citizens from potential terrorists to the point of blatant racial profiling with disastrous consequences. The fear of attack has progressed far past the point of rationality:

“Valid fears have their place in our lives because they cue us to actual danger; exaggerated or imagined fears, however, cause insecurity, political subjection and political exploitation of fears.” (Grupp 48)

This statement refers to the way in which certain ethnic communities are being targeted by the perpetuation of fear and ignorance in communities, attributing to the oppression of the state and certain individuals. If people do not make themselves aware as to what’s going on around them, they may become trapped in the warren, or worse.
It may seem like we are living in a world that values democracy and individual rights, but perhaps we’re just deluding ourselves. Although we now elect officials to represent our values, wants, and beliefs it does not mean they cannot, or will not, influence our societies in a more subtle way that could be very damaging to all who are a part of it. Totalitarian states rely on fear to maintain control, but fear itself is not the problem. Upon a closer examination it is evident that it is ignorance that causes the lasting, irrevocable damage. It is what ensnared all the animals in animal farm, and what paralyzed the citizens under Joseph Stalin; it is what allowed General Woundwort to immobilize his rabbits, and it may lead us, in the new millennium, to make poor decisions and cause lasting harm.
George Orwell was acute enough to write his novel while he was living it; Richard Adams claims his book is nothing but a fictional tale. If we are not careful we could end up making it our history. We must not let ourselves become blind slaves to security. Ignorance is never bliss; Knowledge is always power.

Sick and Tired

2007-03-14T22:10:00.000-04:00

Ughhhh. Not feeling so hot these days.

Maybe I should go to bed instead of blogging. But I'm feeling all angsty, and sometimes the only thing that helps is the sweet release of writing. Well, there are other things, but we won't get into that right now.

So Facebook. Yeah. Facebook. Hmmmm.

For those of you who remember, a little (or long) while ago I wrote in here about regrets and high school, etc. and how I didn't like being reminded of my failures and how seeing people from different times in life, and connecting random events and stuff together really trip me out. Well Facebook provides those types of trips *and others* to the power 10. Maybe moreso. I don't know but like, 15 minutes on Facebook and my head is spinning.

What does this say? I'm too caught up in other peoples lives? Like what the hell am I tripping out about? Seeing where everyone is in their life? Or isn't? Or finding old faces that spark old memories? Or like, is it just because that 6 degrees of separation thing is really creepy and true and it's weird to think how we are all connected?

Yeah, maybe that's it.

Peoples pics are weird to look at. You see a picture, and envision this whole life around it (or maybe I'm the only freak who does this) but you see someone smiling for the camera, and you ultimately think, wow that person looks so happy, surrounded by friends and good times *and more often than not alcohol* and they proabably go to the coolest parties, and have the closest friends, and the greatest parents, etc. etc. And then you are creepy and read what people write on thier wall and they look like they have it all together with future plans and inside jokes and theyre 687 friends.

Now, I can only think that the reason these things bother me, even though on some level I know it's not really like that, because nobody's life is ever as good as it looks *the grass is always greener on the other side* is because I feel like I'm missing out or something. But like, I shouldn't feel like that. I can't be everywhere at all times, and do all things with all people. But like, do you ever get the feeling that no matter where you are, you are always wishing you were somewhere else?

Lately I've been falling back into the fantasy trap. Like, dreaming about quests, and journeys...hung up on thoughts about Harry Potter and The Neverending Story, wanting to watch Lord of the Rings or Labyrinth or The Dark Crystal. I suppose this is a comfort thing that somewhat comes and goes....but like, as a child I really believed in all this stuff. And I always promised myself I wouldn't stop believing in it. But like, these days I'm stuck questioning things like human nature, knowledge or divine intervention. Nevermind holding onto notions of dragons, unicorns and other dimensions. When does our inner child give up on believing in magic? I feel like somehow I missed when that happened. It just sort of did.

I've always thought that if something appealed to so many people, and had managed to exist for so long, it must have some sort of truth to it. Like maybe if we all existed in another universe before this one, we would have encountered fairies and elves and giants as regular occurences. But that doesn't explain why we romanticize them so much now. It's more likely we tie innocence and idealism into these creatures, and recognize them for all the things we lack within ourselves, and all around us. But still...there's that inner child that thinks somehow, somewhere, it's all very possble.

So lately I feel a bit more normal. *If you can consider these kind of delusional/paranoid thoughts normal* and it's good, I guess. I still feel weirded out. And now I'm paying the price for not only the mistakes I've made this year, digging myself into an academic grave, but I am alos paying the price for my delusional/paranoidisms from high school too.

No not because of Facebook. Because stupid Universities want stupid High School transcripts. Stupid High School transcripts which I cannot provide...

So yeah. That's demotivating. And hurts like a slap in the face. Let me tell you.

On the other hand it has somewhat given me a severe kick in the ass. There is already some pretty serious permanent damage done to this semester, but hopefully I can still manage to get through it.

Okay something less depressing please...lately everything I have to say is depressing, and reflective of how inadequate I'm feeling. We have two options here: we can go with something inspiring, or a rant.

Why not both?

Rant: Steak and Sex day? What the fuck is that? It sounds like something a caveman made up. I think by trying to create a counter "holiday" to Valentines, you are already giving that day far more credit than it is worth. Valentines Day is silly, but can also be *moderately* cute. Steak and Sex is silly, but can also be moderately....nauseating? It seems to be epitomizing two of the seven very deadly sins. But hey, I'm not religious...so what do I know?

Inspiration: Hmmm, this one's tough. I didn't have much of an inspiring day. Well, perhaps that's not fair to say....I didn't feel very inspired today? I didn't pick up on all the inspiration around me? Surely there must always be things to be inspired by....it's whether or not you take the time *effort?* to notice them. Well, this is a bit odd...but on my way home I popped in my old Dawson's Creek Soundtrack *Don't laugh, sometimes I just need a DC fix* and this song came on that like, talks about this girl and how the guy singing it just wants her to stay the way she is. Which I thought was interesting because we are always, always trying to change people to conform to what we think is good, or maybe most beneficial to us. *Or maybe it's just me who does that?* In either case, it's rare to hear someone ask you to "Stay You". Of course, this is probably an equally unfair demand to make since people are prone to change all the time...

Okay well that's it for now I guess. I keep telling myself to stay away from Facebook, because it is just not good to waste so much time on, and freak out about stupid things that probably mean ultimately nothing in the long run. I've got to keep more focused on school, and try not to let that HS Transcript thing get me down. I've got to keep my head out of the clouds enough to get more accomplished, but still remember I'm a dreamer at heart, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. I just wish I had more time to relax and have fun, I'm so tired of being stressed out all the time...

A few weeks and it will all be over anyway, and then there will be new things to look forward to. Life seems to have become so stale lately. *Sigh*

Blind Optimism?

2007-03-12T20:56:00.002-04:00

So a few things have occurred to me in the past couple of days. There is always plenty of time for things to occur to you when you are avoiding writing 20 page research papers. Better yet, when you do no homework at all, you will find you have nothing but time for things to occur.

This past weekend, I had the pleasure (and I use that word very loosely) of re-reading some of the stuff in older blog entries. Which made me realize that a) I should try to keep up with a blog, it promotes free thought, creativity and a solid outlet for my little insanities...b) I should try to keep up with a blog because inadvertently all this free writing helps me do better when it comes to writing essays...c) my older entries are alot more interesting/profound/entertaining (if I may say so) to read than the dribble spat out in the last two entries. But alas, one must assume that this is what happens when they leave their thoughts unattended for so long.

*Envisions small farmyard pen where sheeps, pigs and thoughts roam unattended*

I wonder what a thought would look like.

Harry Potter makes them out to be long silver strands, shiny, like spiders-web...I really can't wait for the last book. Well, then again yes I can. In the sense that once it is released I will absolutely have to read it without setting it down, and then once I have finished reading it, the saga will be over and that's it! And that will totally suck.

Which brings me to something I've been struggling with lately, and that's my problem of letting go of things. Like, accepting that they're over. I consistently have to remind myself to not cry because something has ended, but to smile because it happened. And it's hard.

But it only seems to be hard while in it. Afterwards, it's not so hard. It fades in time. And the new people/places/experiences in your life serve as a constant reminder of why it's so important to continue moving forward. Like now. It's been hard to leave other things behind, but thankfully the things I have in my life now not only remind me of the importance of moving forwards, but also serve as a comfort that I might just be exactly where I'm supposed to be right at this very moment.

Allow me to explain...

One of the things that keeps me sane about leaving Seneca, is that I will still be pursuing my education, in what I hope will not be too different an environment from the one I'm in now. Don't get me wrong, I realize how lucky I am, and how truly amazing everything-and almost everyone I've encountered at this school is. I just mean I'm not leaving the sweetest nest for the cold hard "real world" just yet. There will be a place to perch in between.

At the very same time, however, the fact that I am now only hitting university at age 24 bothers me to no end. And yes I know people advance at their own rate, and I have alot of great experiences under my belt, and blah, blah, blah, but it still worries me that I won't finish school until I'm like 30. How do you start life at 30? I wrote about this at some other time...but I don't remember in which entry..anyways this is not the point...alas, I digress.

The point is, that timing is everything. Had I not been here where I am, at this precise moment I would not have had the same experience. Which, in spite of everything I am very thankful for. I would not have met the same people, some of which have been incredibly influential to who I have become in the past year. So it is because of these people, that I can take comfort in who I am, and where I am and where I am striving to be.

So to these people, I thank you dearly.

Of course, this does not mean I am entirely happy with my life, as I never really am. *Sigh*.

I could have done more this year, but I believe that responsibility rests upon myself. Though it is curious to think how others may have helped make it better...

Which brings me to question what influences an experience? How much of the experience is in how you act in the given situation? How much of it is what you perceive? How much is based on circumstances out of yours-or anyones control? How much of our lives dictated by those around us?

This is a somewhat bothersome question, as we all like to believe we are in control...unless your faith is rooted firmly in fate, and even then (as I tend to believe in a mixture of the two) your own free-will must surely play a role in how your life unfolds....at least somewhat.

Maybe then, this was not the best year to be where I was when I was. But it certainly was not the worst! I suppose this is turning into a game of What if...? And that is neither a productive nor pleasurable game to play. Ever.

So I trust in, if nothing else, the fact that this is the way it was, and therefore it must be for the best? But, that doesn't sound very confident! In fact, it sounds precisely like the backwards logic Candide uses to rationalize the events taking place around him, which we studied in Western Lit. Blind optimism. It's a killer.

Perhaps I'm overthinking this...

I'm thankful. Perhaps I should just count my blessings, and quit while I'm ahead. If things may have been better at a different time, I'll never know.

Isn't it easy to believe in fate when all is going well?

This will be continued later...

You Can't Always Get What You Want

2007-03-09T20:19:00.000-05:00

But if you try sometimes...you might just find...you get what you need?

Ahhhh. It's been awhile.

It's good to be back though. Much has happened in the past few months...yet with the pressures and responsibilities I find it hard to find the time, much less the inspiration, to sit down and write. Alas, I have been re-inspired. Somewhat. Enough to spit out a paragraph or two.

I'm nearly positive I will spend the summer reflecting on this past year; all the things I did and didn't do. All the things I could have done better. Regrets, acheivements, and the like. It has certainly been intense. And it is going to be very difficult to say goodbye to all the special people from this time in my life. Or at least See You Later.

To remain consistent with the title of this entry, I would like to say that there are alot of things I wished I could have done better with this year. Still do. Still trying. (But we'll get to that part later). I'm not saying I have regrets. I just know I could have done better with alot of things...

Well, live and learn right?

*Sigh*

Yes, that was a sigh with a capital "S".

I think the problem is, alot of us don't really know what we want. At least I don't know. At least, I don't think I know. Or I manage to fool myself into not knowing. (Or not thinking I know?) In short: sometimes I'm too caught up trying to make a point or stand up against something, I forget to look inside and see how I really feel. Or I go to the extreme. Or I overcompensate for things I am afraid of.

Ughhhhh. I hate it when I overcompensate. It usually blows up in my face and I end up feeling awful.

I overcompensate alot. Sometimes.

So here's my little bit of inspiration I have been meaning to blog about since Christmas. I think if you can first identify what it is that you want, you can then begin working towards it. Whether that be through painstaking efforts, high payments, or divine intervention. I know it sounds really simple and idiotproof. But is it? IS IT REALLY THAT EASY TO IDENTIFY?

Maybe it is for you. Maybe I'm the idiot. But hey, it's my blog. If you don't like it, there's your toolbar....(look up for toolbar) Go find yourself some nice mindless porn.

Why have I been meaning to write about this through Christmas you say? (Well, no. You don't say...but you have to give me something to go on here folks...) I have been meaning to write about it since Christmas because I had this glorious moment in the Eaton Center. This glorious moment when I was downtown with the fam, going to see Wicked for the second time (there will most DEFINITELY be an entry on that one later) and I was doing a wee bit of shopping before the show (I say "wee" because being a starving student and all, I'm dirt poor...and also because the word "wee" can make anything sound cute. Like he was a "wee" pedaphile. Awwww. Look Ma! It's the wee pedaphile!) Okay well, maybe not anything....

Where was I? Ah yes. Shopping...

So I was in the Eaton Center. And I was thinking about how much I wanted my two favourite things. Chocolate and Coffee. (I'm really not that hard to please!) And I was thinking I wanted Starbucks Coffee, because they put drugs in it to keep you coming back...I mean, because it's good, and Lindor Chocolate because we had just had a meeting with Swiss Chalet Festive Specials involved and we ate lots of Lindor Chocolate and I could not find either of these things and I grew tired and frustrated and cranky (and for those of you who know me, you know I never get cranky, ever. Over anything. HAHAHAHAHAHA, yea okay.) and it was time to go meet up for dinner, etc. so I resigned myself to finding my way out through Sears. Okay, here's the good part. GUESS WHAT THEY HAVE IN SEARS?

*Scroll down!*

*Keep Going!*

*Almost There!*

A STARBUCKS RIGHT BESIDE A LINDOR BOOTH!!!!

Okay. Right now you are probably like, what the fuck? This is a stupid blog. I am not going to read it anymore. Well, that's fine. Or maybe you are like me and see how odd it is to be in the middle of a department store desert, only to stumble upon the chocolate/coffee oasis in the middle of the store, propagated by the very two companies I so desperately wanted to find. It was BIZARRE. And so then I realized. If you want to get what you want, you have to figure it out first. Determine it. Envision it. Only then can you truly go out and find it.

Well, either that, or take a visit to your local Sears.

My point is, for myself, is that it has taken me a long time to figure out what I want in life. I'm still not entirely sure. It's a constant process. But along the road some things have become clearer than others. And I've picked up some good tools, great advice and even better friends along the way. *Oh can you smell the cheese here?*

There are alot of things I wish I had done better with this year. And maybe it's not too late. I'm still trying...but then, maybe I let myself get too distracted. In any case I'm still learning...and I guess that will always be something to be thankful for....that is definitely something I will always want.

And definitely something I will always need!

My Best Me

2006-12-10T04:47:00.000-05:00

I am finding it hard these days to look in the mirror. And I slowly feel myself slipping back into my old ways, old days, old fears, old dreads, old me.

My old me is someone I have not yet entirely made peace with, but I think I need to address that and somehow forgive myself. Or die trying. Or die anyway.

The summer's limbo, is really my old depression, disguising itself. A sheep in wolfs clothing. A lesser wolf than he used to be, he thought he could fool me. But now I can see that this depression *and I call it that because that's how it feels, not necessarily what it is* has not dissapeared, more like, it went on a little hiadas.

The problem is, I'm not entirely sure about what I believe when it comes to depression, as a mental illness etc. Or how it works. Or why it affects so many people. Or why it affects so many people in my life.

I think it may be something I struggle with for a long time. And I am almost certain it springs from lack of confidence, which seems to be, my generations number one ailment. And how couldn't it be? Look at the world we're living in...

Why am I feeling so bad? There are many little reasons and no big reason, I don't think. Well, there might be a big reason I sort of recognize but I'm so afraid to admit these weaknesses, even to myself. It is a sad existence when one cannot be honest with themselves. The sad thing is, it is always ourselves who is the hardest to be honest with.

Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you back to my runabout rantings. No, life hasn't gotten any less confusing. Yes, I'm still scared. You should be too. It's a sad, scary world we live in.

I am tired, and overwhelmed. I took on alot of new things this semester. I thought I could handle them, and maybe I could have. But I sadly did not.

I didn't do as badly as I have been telling myself I have though. I beat myself up so much it's no wonder I feel like a failure in everything. Yes, I said everything. No, don't feel sorry for me. I don't want your pity. I want your empathy. I do not spend all my time feeling like a failure. But this week is a self-pity-I-am-a-failure-nobody-loves-me-because-I'm-fat-and-stupid sort of week, and so you must bear with me. We all have these weeks...remember that time you cried so hard you thought the whole world must have ended? The good news is the world is still here.

I am still here. You are still here. If you are reading this blog you have access to a computer. I am writing this blog because I have access to a computer. If we have access to computers we can't be that bad off. We are lucky because we have computers and food to eat, and beds to sleep in, and friends to talk to, and hot chocolate to drink, and stuffed animals to hug, and great books to read, and opportunities, and clothing, and shelter, and family, and clean socks, and full pencil cases, and greeting cards, and knowledge, and ability, and ten fingers and toes. And we can never be thankful enough for having all ten fingers and toes.

And we can never be thankful enough.

And we can sometimes never be thankful.

And sometimes we are thankful but we are still sad and need to talk about how sad we are, and that's okay. We should not feel guilty for our problems because others have it worse. We should remember others have it worse, but it's okay for us to have problems too. Maybe you know that already...I, on the other hand, always feel guilty. Sometimes.

Today I am sad because one little slip and I'm seventeen again. Cutting my arms and legs. Dreaming about death. Feeling empty and devoid. Feeling unworthy, feeling unloved. Feeling dirty and unwashable. Feeling like nothing, like nowhere, like nobody. Feeling like my old me.

Of course, it wasn't all that bad, all the time. I had some good times. I learned alot. I have some of the tightest bonds with people for these years. But that is not what I am focusing on at this moment. I am focusing on the fact that my lowest lows in life were around this time,a nd I am getting back glimpses of those lows and it IS SCARING THE FUCK OUT OF ME.

So I am trying not to have a breakdown. And I'm trying to sit still for a few minutes and be quiet. And listen to my inner workings work. Listen to my inner voices whisper. Listen to my inner child cry out. Listen to my inner girl sob.

So I am dissapointed in myself. Because I had very high hopes and expectations. I always do nowadays. My new me at least aims high.

See the thing is, I care alot about what other people think. People always tell me not to. But it's fucking hard not to. And I take things reeally personally, and internalize everything. Internalizing everything makes me good with people, and it is also what makes me so compassionate. I am always trying to put myself in other people's shoes. But it also means that everything people say to me hurts, and somewhere along the way I have lost my ability to laugh things off. I take everything way too seriously. *Note: I may have never had this ability to completely laugh things off, but it wasn't always this bad-Or maybe it was this bad, but I never cared enough to make a point of it, or I didn't have the balls, or didn't think it mattered, or whatever.*

So I thought when I took on a new avenue of my life this year, I would try not to be that person. I thought I would be different. Tough. Indestructible. Not a pushover. Well instead I have become some psycho bitch, who has lost sight of who she is so much she can actually hear it eating away at herself when there's no one around. It's a crunchy noise. Like big bites of rice cakes.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

It's worse than death.

It's sort of what happened at Milestone's. I got to the point where I hated who I had become in those lines of definition. So I had to leave.

I am now debating on whether or not to leave council. Because of these hangups plus about 50 more. I am sad because I feel stupid and pathetic. I feel used. I feel misunderstood. I feel crazy. I feel disorganized. I feel lost.

I can't explain all the reasons why here. They are all in my head. There they shall stay (for now). I will spend the next month away from school, with friends, and family. And I will heal. And I will think. And I will make a decision. I stupidly left myself no time for me or my friends. And for most people that's probably okay, but since I feed off people, I need them to keep me grounded. And happy. And confident. And me. I need my friends to keep me me and sane.

I never walk away fromt hings until I've tried my best. I do not feel I have tried my best. If I walk away now, I will regret it. I know in my heart I will.

But it is so hard to break out of the person people expect you to be. So now how do I change? How do I become me better self? Or my best self? Because I am always myself, and I have still been me all this time...but I haven't been a good me, and so I'm sad. Maybe that's why my old me was so sad. She was never my best me.

This Past Summer...

2006-10-05T01:11:00.000-04:00

I know I haven't had the chance to write in here since I've gotten it up and running. I have been meaning to, but cannot afford the luxury of time. I did, however, take the opportunity to sort through old blog entries (Aka: The Summer of Limbo), I was pleasantly surprised to find that:

1) After forgetting what I wrote (and not to toot my own horn here, but) some of it sounded pretty good (and, naturally, made perfect sense to me!).

And:

2) The things I was going through six months ago-are the same things that are getting me down now, and once again I find myself understanding myself (at a later date) perfectly.

I will begin to post old posts, but they will come up with current dates. I will post them in order, and if you should like to take a moment to reminisce with me, I invite you to do so, (They have not been edited, even though some have many spelling/grammatical errors, due to me trying to get everything out of my head before it vapourizes and is lost forever and ever). Some of my personal favourites are "Onion Days", "People-y People" and "Love, Childhood...". (The last of the old entries is entitled "Mona Lisa Frown" for those of you who'd like to skip to something a little more current.)

Rest assured there will be more to follow shortly. Unfortunately right now I'm still grappling with "Time Management".

Why the f**k not?

2006-10-05T01:00:00.001-04:00

Ok, so for anyone who knows me, they know I think blogs are fucking stupid. They are like, sheerly here for people to bitch and moan about things, or post stupid comments about how wonderful their significant others are (when they are cheating on them behind their backs), or for them to keep a hum-drum journal about their daily activities. Well, I don't really read other peoples blogs, because frankly my dear, I just don't give a damn. But If I feel like venting, I suppose this would be a healthy way to do it. No one needs to read this blog. No one should even want to read it. But since I suck at keeping a wriitten journal (who takes the time to handwrite anymore? Noooobody!) then I suppose I can try keeping an online journal. What's the point? I don't know. I'll probably forget I've even started one. I suppose writing a blog will help enhance my writing skills, and help me to exercise proper grammer and spelling (things which most people on my msn list seem to severely lack) and if anyone would like to stalk me, then this will make their lives alot easier. Hell, it might even be fun.

5 Hot Air Balloons

2006-10-05T00:59:00.000-04:00

Okay, so yesterday was a bit of a ranting day. I would like to send a personal thank you to all who read my blog and agreed. And to those of you who think I'm crazy...well thank you to you too! All feedback is welcome.

So, to counteract some of the negative energy I realeased yesterday I would like to mention some positive things...they're a bit sad...sort of bittersweet (I think) but they are honest, and God knows we could all use a bit more honesty.

After school today, I decided to go to Scarborough Town Center to run some errands. This is because I am not overly fond of Markville Mall, and I have a Baby shower to go to on Sunday and I wanted to visit the Disney store. So off to STC I went, got a gift, did some window shopping, got some freshly squeezed orange juice (I LOVE FRESHLY SQUEEZED OJ), and I see the big balloons.

Now, for those of you who don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, there are 5 big hot-air balloons that have been at STC for as long as I can remember, and longer still. These balloons remind me so much of my childhood. I guess because when I was younger, that was the mall in our area and we'd always go there and they were the highlight of the whole shopping trip. They are located just outside the Bay, and although they have changed colours a million times over the years, they are still there, going up and down, up and down. Slowly and steadily. They are something I can rely on. And in a world where everyone is moving so fast, and things change before you know it, it feels pretty good to find a sense of reliability, even if it's in a few hot air balloons.

I always smile when I pass them, and take a moment to remember life as a child, and how they looked so damn big back then. I usually park outside the Bay, so I was walking abck that way to leave, and I saw a father with a child in his arms, and she was just staring right up at those balloons, watching them go up, up, up and *WHOOSH* come back down. It was such a lovely site to see, that I decided to take a minute a revel in this moment. When I was younger it seems I had infinite moments to sit and reflect or ponder or just be quiet and observe. These days those moments are few and far between, and I am beginning to realize that if YOU don't take those moments for yourself, they will not be handed to you, and soon enough life will pass you by, and you won't even know what the fuck just happened.

So I sat down on the bench, and memories started to flood back, I started to (vaguely) remember the stores that surrounded the balloons when I was younger, as opposed to the ones there now. I remembered the games store, and how they had these little metal Star Wars figurines that I wanted SO BADLY and my parents said "no", but when we were walking to the car my mom pretended to forget something and went back, and when we got home she gave me the box of figurines. Oh I was so happy! To this day I still have maybe 4 or 5 out of the 10 that were in the box, except Luke Skywalkes missing his feet and base and Darth Vader has lost an arm. I remember the jewelry store beside the Bay, where my Dad had this custom made jewelry box made, that played his and my mother's song (the mother still has it upstairs somewhere) and how he had it engraved with a special message for her. Looking back at these memories, I realize that my childhood was so full of love and warmth that it's no wonder my teenage years were such a let-down. That may sound bitter, but it's not meant to, it just means I had a wonderful and happy childhood, and although the level of problems and responsibilities have increased since then, it doesn't mean I can't look back and remember the purest and simplest stages of life.

So I sit there on the bench, and I watch people, and lately I have taken to people watching more and more. Sometimes it's like they are moving to some kind of music, altogether, it's beautiful really. Especially children and elderly. I look up around me and there is a big poster ad that says "HOW IS THE WORLD GOING TO CHANGE TOMORROW?" and this is where the magic of sitting and taking in life comes into play, you see things like that, and you realize that though all the stores in this mall have changed, and the balloons have gone from crazy 80's prints, to a more subtle and modern looking print, and people grow up, they are still there, and people are still enjoying them. Children are still amazed. I am still amazed. And I'm thankful for it.

Before I was going to leave, I wondered if people still made wishes, by throwing pennies into the little fountain at the bottom. There is a worn old sign that still states proceeds go to the nearest hospital. I used to make so many wishes as a child. Who takes the time to wish on pennies these days? I know I don't. So even though I felt (and probably looked) like a ridiculous 23-year old girl throwing pennies into the fountain. I did. And I made wish or two, and that was that.

It is strange, and wonderful and sad to think that for the last 23 years I have experienced so much in my life, and been to so many places, met so many people, had all kinds of ups and downs of my own...but those balloons are still there, a constant and a certainty. Forever bobbing up and down, simple, beautiful, and still every bit as magical.

In Limbo

2006-10-05T00:57:00.000-04:00

Well today was quite the day, damn daylight savings. I've had so much coffee I can no longer see straight. It's making me even more paranoid than usual, and this is not a good thing, trust. Today I was wondering about the people in one's life, and comfort zones. And what it means to break your comfort zone, and if there are some ways that are healthier than others. Breaking a comfort zone can be slightly traumatic, especially if it's done in the "wrong" way.

I like to look back onto different groups of friends and reflect. Changing groups of friends fascinate me, not too sure why. I wonder if moving to a group of different friends can do more harm than good, and if so, what do you do to change that around? It's all how you look at it. In one sense, introducing new people into your life can inspire you to challenge yourself, it can promote growth and awareness and it can open your mind to new experiences and ideas. On the other hand it can make you doubt yourself, it can weigh on your self-esteem. It can cause you to feel out of place and uncertain about stupd things, and it can make you feel uncool or unattractive, immature or attention-seeking.

Or you could just be a paranoid freak. (Note:This can also weigh on one's self-esteem).

I am currently trying to plan not one, but two fantastic birthday parties. Why? Sometimes I'm not too sure.

I feel caught between two worlds, between two wonderful groups of people, both very different and very special. I feel like this leads to two different lives, identities of sorts. Not that I am not myself around either, but that I am a diferent self around both. Does that make sense? It does to me. And I am probably the only one reading this, so that's okay too. Both sides fill different needs and satisfy different things. Sometimes I love both, sometimes I hate all. Sometimes I feel caught in the inbetween, falling through cracks in the sidewalk, alone and unheard of. Sometimes I feel I could scream out loud and everyone in the world would hear me. Such is life I suppose. I must remind myself that it is a journey, not a destination and every day we all get closer to something, and further away from something else.

I understand that everything is multi-faceted and perception truly is everything. This is somewhat comforting, and somewhat not, if perception is everything does certain truth exist? I am tempted to say no, but then why do people put such an emphasis on it?

If perception is everything, and I want to be a paranoid crazy psycho and think that people hate me because I'm not very stylish, or my hair is always a mess, or because I'm a bit weird, then I suppose that's my problem. That is what I will get out of life and the people around me, as opposed to taking the good things, and enjoying each moment while I can, and realizing that although each moment can be a defining moment, it is not THE defining moment. Opinions change, people change, things change-everything changes...And a perception is only as temporary or permanent as YOU make it out to be.

I need to really make an effort to stop taking things seriously and getting upset in life, I also need to remind myself that to chill out a little will not result in "not living life to the fullest" it just means learning to let somethings go. This is something that comes up in my life all the time. This "hypersensitivity". I take things too personally, and I overanalyze and dwell on EVERY little thing said and done. It's ridiculous, no wonder I'm so insecure. No wonder people loooove to bug me. But I just find it so difficult, it's like I'm always looking for excuses for people not to like me. I must give off one helluva shady vibe sometimes.

New resolution: (Seriously) Keep it cool. Because If I don't learn how to do it soon, I'm going to give myself a heart attack. Either that or to the people who have to deal with me all the time. If people don't make me feel good about myself, then I will take a step back, and I will focus on things that are positive and that create energy as opposed to sucking it up. But I have to try to not let them not make me feel good about myself, and this comes from building a stronger person on the inside from the ground up. This is something I'm not sure anyone ever (truly) accomplishes, but of course some do a better job than others, or at least they learn to fake it better.

Either way, I have got to give it a better shot!

Regrets?

2006-10-05T00:55:00.000-04:00

Working in and around Markham, these past few years, I have had the opportunity to, every now and again run into people from highschool. People who you forget you know but then are elated to remember. People who you never said goodbye to. People you want to wish good riddance. People you wish never existed and people you wish you kept in touch with. This fine evening, at Alice Fazooli's, I served someone I went to highschool with but I couldn't remember his name. I was tired and cranky and hormonal, and some days (although I love to play the social butterfly and remember everything about everyone) it can be draining. Because it requires energy and small talk and in some cases pretending you give a shit. Sometimes the people have no idea who you are, and that can be awkward. An excellent memory is a mixed blessing, let me tell you.

Anyways, just before I gave this table the bill I was asked that question...the "did you go to UHS?" question. Well, yes. I went to UHS. And no, I did not graduate. And that's why we never said goodbye and I don't know what the fuck happened to you and you don't know what the fuck happened to me. End of story. Or is it?

I have, over the years, told myself many times, that I don't care that I didn't go to prom, and I don't care that I didn't graduate highschool, or see out the end of what are supposed to be the "best years of your life". I tell myself that the places I went and the people I've met instead have brought value, experience and perspective into my life and made me into the person I am today. And I tell myself that I am okay with this.

Well, I don't know about that anymore. I pulled out my yearbook to see if I could remember this guy, because his name has COMPLETELY evaded me, and that rarely happens. And I get that same sickly sad feeling I always do when I look through the yearbook. I feel forgotten and I feel like a failure. I feel like I can't cut it when it comes to anything. I used to think I was a strong person, but more and more I am doubting myself these days.

I don't want to have regrets, and when I think of regrets, the two worst experiences of my life come back to me, and I don't really know how to deal with those. Now I am feeling like I regret leaving highschool. I didn't give a shit. I didn't know how. If high school were to happen now, boy would I be ready for it. I'd rock that shit, no problems. (Or at least I'd like to think so.) I'm trying to remember what made it SO difficult. Why couldn't I just go to class? Stay focused? Try a little? But how can you stay focused on high school when your whole life is falling to pieces. When you have no self-esteem and no idea who you are, or what you want out of life. When you look around and all you see is fear and anger and hate in the world, and you can't get yourself out of bed in the morning because every day you wish you were dead. How do you go to class then and pretend everything is okay?

Maybe I am making excuses for myself. But I think alot of my memories of those days have been moved to another part of my brain, at least for a time being, because they are fuzzy and distorted. I am so sad all of a sudden and I don't know why. Because I could have been a better person than I was. Or should have been.

That is time I will never get back. I am now enrolled in Seneca college, I have an aprtment, a car, I'm on student council, I have a great job and my life is full of wonderful people who amaze me every day. I tell myself these things over and over again to try and make myself feel like a good person. But I am still overlysensitive and overlyanalytical. I can't take peoples jokes. I am always feeling self-concious and worry constantly about what other people think. Do these insecurities stem from that time in my life? From before? After? Now that I am trying to care about things and I no longer want to work against the world I feel like I have done things all backwards. I have to go back to move forward, but that means addressing issues like my mother, who I want to forgive and forget so badly but I just can't seem to do it. How much responsibility do I take in my mistakes? How much is fair to truly say was out of my control?

I need to cut my losses. I need to learn how to cut my losses and not look back. Not just push these feelings away but actually deal with them. And move forward. But everytime I see the face of an old friend or aquaintence it all comes back again.

Thise years are gone, they are not coming back, you were who you were. Please, accept that. I can't change the past I can only try to move forward and ensure that it doesn't happen again. High school was so long ago now. What difference does it make if I was a mess back then?

It still impacts me though. Everyone's past does, I think. Everyone had moments their not proud of, or times in their life they wish they could "re-do". This is not an uncommon feeling. I want to believe I have come so far from taht time in my life, and that I really have changed, but I'm not so sure some days. What would it be like? I wish I could see it...what my life would have been like if I had actually finsihed high school and gone to university. If I had had a chance to let go.

I don't want to have any regrets god-dammit.

So little to do and so much time...

2006-10-05T00:52:00.000-04:00

Wait, strike that. Reverse it.

For those of you who are trapped in the 21st century and don't know it, that's a quote from the original (and only true) version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Starring Gene Wilder. Not some crazy-Johnny-Depp-child-molesting-horse-shit.

But I digress.

I have a SHITLOAD of things to do. So much so that I really shouldn't be sitting here procrastinating by writing in some stupid blog no one (but possibly Cristyne) will read.

I do not have much to rant about today, I have very little energy for that. I would however, like to make note of the lovely fashion show I attended yesterday. Courtesy of my wonderful post-secondary institute: Seneca College. Jenni Dunne is a promising young designer who has shown much talent and creativity, I look forward to seeing her works on the runway again. I also look forward to feeling like a big fancy-shmancy person who knows a fabulous designer at a fabulous fashion show again. That was fun. It was almost like a moment from SATC. Funky music, tons of people, bright lighting, mellow atmosphere, sexy, SEXY models, a shiny disco ball and of course, the *flash* *flash* *flash* of hundreds of digital cameras taking it all in. Close your eyes for a moment and you can almost fool yourself into believing that you're suddenly in New York, or maybe Paris...

Haha, who knew a fashion show could be so much fun!

The Proverbial Happy Ever After

2006-10-05T00:51:00.000-04:00

Television. It moves us. Shakes us. It helps shape who are. It defines us by the shows we choose to watch. We can identify with the characters and escape to their world and their problems. Television gives us the distraction we need away from ourselves. It inspires us and leaves us wanting more.

A few weeks ago I watched the last SATC episode. I had been avoiding it because I don't like watching the series finale of anything. I loved Dawson's Creek, and I still have a certain fondness for it that will not be forgotten, but to this day I have watched the series finale but once. It's hard to say goodbye to the people we've loved and laughed and cried with, even if these are people we've never met.

I have to say the series finale for SATC was one of the best I've ever seen. It had everything a good ending to a show should have had. The Dawson's Creek finale was strange, and I didn't like how Joey ended up with Pacey. The Friends finale was lacking something. It never did justice to the decade of memories we had with Rachel, Ross, Joey, Chandler, Monica and Pheobe. I have yet to see the finale of Gilmore Girls, which is apparently not too far away. And I'm curious to see how they will (if ever) wrap up The Simpsons. Seinfeld I wasn't too big into at the time, but I think the ending seemed to fit the show.

Back to SATC. Yes, maybe it was slightly unrealistic. Maybe it was all a little too good to be true, but that's what we, the veiwer, want to see. We want that proverbial happy ever after. We need reassurance and a chance to believe that life might actually turn out that way. Of course in reality there is no "Ever After". (Sidenote: Ever After is a song from the musical Into the Woods by Steven Sondheim, I would like to take this moment to revel in the fact that one of the Desperate Housewives episodes in Season One was entitled "Children Will Listen" another track from that play. Excellent song, excellent choice for an episode, Go DH!!!!) Now where was I? Oh yes, there is no real concept of "ever after" because the journey doesn't just "end". But that doesn't seem to take away fromt he fact that we all love the happy ending.

I think one of the reasons for 1998's incredibly popular flick (and one of my personal favourites) Titanic was the fact that it had an incredibly sad ending. Same with the infamous tale of Romeo and Juliet. People never get tired of these stories and they want to go back and watch them again and again because I think deep down somewhere in their subconciousness they want to see Jack survive the icy waters of the Atlantic or Juliet wake up in time to stop Romeo (who seems to be quite impatient) from taking his life.

The Sex and the City Finale wrappedup everything on a perfect note, it brought an end to the four friends that fit the tone of the show perfectly. Everyone got their "happy ever after". The journey we travelled with Carrie, Miranda Samantha and Charlotte came full circle, and they all ended up happy, and hopefully better off people than when we first met them. It left with that warm and fuzzy feeling, kinda chokes you up a bit, and it's so bittersweet because you know this is it. But it's okay, because their okay. And hopefully it will ALL be okay. One day.

I really liked how the final words of the show were about love and how it changes people and what it brings, but that the most important love is self-love. And maybe I'm reading waaaay too much into a t.v. show here, but I think all 4 of those women leart that over the 6 years of the show, in some sense or another, and that's what opened them up to their "happy ever after".

Well, at least that's what I'd like to think.

Monogamy

2006-10-05T00:49:00.001-04:00

Is it just me or is it becoming an outdated concept?

I would like to record the events of this weekend, but I'm not sure if this is the place to do it. All these mixed up feelings, not really sure what to do with them.

I guess right now I'm not really feeling very sure about things at all. Not about myself anyways. Another one of Sameena's monumental lacks in judgement, letting her emotions and alcohol get the best of her.

The thing is, I don't even feel that guilty. Not like I did before. But what I do feel is guilt for not feeling guilty enough.

(Cristyne please don't jump to any conclusions here, I have a slight tendency to overreact.)

Life, again, you have thrown a very unexpected curveball my way. Do we let those sleeping dogs lie? Or do we dredge them up for one last game of catch?

It's funny the way people come in and out of your life when you least expect it. It's amazing how timing is so crucial. It astounds me (and this is meant in a very general way) how once you think you have someone, or something figured out, thats exactly when it changes and becomes almost the opposite. Life has a funny way of wrapping up "unfinished business", or a funny way of keeping it going.

There are somedays I wake up and I don't feel like "myself", and there are times of my life I look back on and they seem completely unfathomable to the person I think I am, or claim to be now.

It's strange and slightly uncomforting how values and morals can change. How the ideals you once held onto so strongly at some point in your life become rationalized away by experience.

This is just drama, it's still the day after. By the end of the week I won't think twice about it. And I'm willing to bet he won't either. Even if he says he does. You can never believe an actor.

Monogamy II

2006-10-05T00:49:00.000-04:00

In the last entry I didn't really get to touch on what I wanted to talk about. I still don't really know how to get into all of it, but I am desperately needing to vent. And come now, what other purpose to blogs serve, I mean really...

Monogamy is perhaps not such an outdated concept. But people are fucking stupid and don't know what they want. People are fucking scared, and so they commit to bullshit relationships in order to validate themselves and feel secure and all that other crap. People settle. If people didn't settle or commit until they knew exactly what they wanted and were sure they had found it, no one would be cheating. (Maybe it's not all that simple, but really, how hard can it be?)

I don't understand anything about love or marriage or sex or dating or anything else. Like, I have gone through all kinds of phases in my life and now I'm at the point where I don't trus anyone or anyones motives.

Like I really believe everytime a guy initatiates something physical it's just to get some. And it's not necessarily their fault, that's kind of what society programmes them to do.

Like with this person, who will remain nameless, I feel like in a sense I'm some kinda bizarre conquest for him. He needs to prove to himself that I want him, because I did at one point very much want him and then I made the mistake of breaking things off for someone else. I don't think him (or I) have ever gotten over that. (Why....I do not know, it happened AGES ago) but yea, well. He wins. Cause I still do and always have in some sense wanted him. Probably always will. He brings out a side of me that I don't really understand and he appeals to side of me that's not really developed.

Oh man does this guy have flaws, he overexaggerrates like CRAZY, and it's funny cause he gets this certain overly authoritative tone of voice when he does it. And I think there's alot he's insecure about. And he can be somewhat stubborn and pigheaded and argumentative. But there is something about him I just can't grasp. He's smart and funny and absolutely adorable. And he has this way of saying things that can make them stick in your head for years. He's talented, and kind and I've watched him really come into his own. (I think, in little bits in pieces over the years...) The words insistently present come to mind. I read that in a Margeret Atwood short story once "he was insistently present..." and that's kind of the way this guy is. (I can honestly think of a handful of people who could easily be described by that term, of course the greggie is one of them. The greggie is beyond simple words and explanations.)

(Sidenote: just as people weave their way in and out of your life, I think other things do that too, influential things such as music. Like maybe this is a shitty example but all week I've had that silly song "goodbye" by the spice girls stuck in my head. It's like your subconcious "jukebox" [if you will] can pull up songs with melodies and lyrics that can match your mood/state of mind from any point in time...weird stuff)

Ok so back to this guy. Well. Not all people you are attracted to can be someone substantial in your life, and not all substantial people in your life can be THE substantial person in your life (if that's even what you're looking for) point being that sometimes I suppose you can just be with someone just because. Not cause it makes any sense, or because you're going to have some monumental future together, but just because for a little bit of time, you need that person and they need you back, for whatever crazy reason.

Is this making sense? Fuck it, like I ever know what the hell I'm talking about.

But I feel like I'm sort of an item on a to-do list, or at least that's what I fear. Because it's very simple to make promises and plans in the moment of things, but afterwards life takes over again and we forget them, or bury them, or something. Like this person needs to get some kind of itch out of his system. Some kind of bizarre rivalry. I hate it when people use people out of convenience, but everyone does it, and I do it all the time. Not always intentionally, but if we go back to the whole philosophy of people not doing anything unless they benefit from it in some way, it would be very easy to argue what I just said.

I don't want to be used. Not by anyone. Especially not by him.

I suppose on some level I would deserve it though. But I never had any malicious intent towards him and my decisions were made at a time when I was a very confused and sad little individual.

There's another thing, and perhaps what I love about him most. The fact that he has seen me at MY WORST, I mean absolute miserably self-deprocating WORST, and is still there for me when I need him. And he knows me. Or at least he did. Very, very well. It's so important to have someone like that in your life.

But after all this I'm not saying I want to date him, or anything like that, and after reading this long and lovely gushfest about him you may find that hard to believe. It's just that his INSISTENT PRESENTNESS IS STILL PERMEATING MY POOR OVERANALYTICAL BRAIN. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Do we unlock these doors labeled unfinished business? Talk about your pandora's box. Maybe it sits there and every once in awhile life throws a mishapen key your way, and if you are stupid enough to unlock the trunk (because you think you are ready, or you're curious, or otherwise) then you must face the consequences and deal. Or maybe some days the trunk lid just kinda pops open by accident, either way you're S.O.L.

I need to go to bed. As I so often tell the people who ask me about advice on these things, time tells all, heals all, reveals all. So it's just a matter of patience I think. I spoke to him earlier today anyways, briefly, on msn. He is always hard to read, and hard to read people on msn become impossible to read.

In my foolish drunkeness this past Saturday I do believe I let a little secret slip. Not so much of a secret but as a really silly game/analogy I like to sometimes dream up in my head. I can't say it here, because this is open to the public, and if we start making too many analogies identities can become all too clear, although there are a handful of people who will already be certain of who I'm talking about almost none of them will read this, And for the ones that do: please just chalk this up to another day's disorderly rantings.

Happy Birthday To Me...

2006-10-05T00:47:00.001-04:00

Well, it's been awhile since I've written in here. I've had quite the week, trying to finish up school and the like. I'd just like to say thank you to all the people who read this blog, apparently there are a few more people than I thought. You're kind words and encouragement mean alot. So thank you.

Today I am 23 years old, and that brings with it all kinds of new thoughts, ideas, responsibilities and experiences. This time is for reflection, and I have alot to reflect on.

I feel older, somehow. And yet still so young. It's strange, life never ceases to amaze me, and yet lately I feel bored. Restless. Unsatisfied. Like...there is something missing, or something I've forgotten to do.

The joy in turning 23 and being is that there is still so much I don't understand, and though I have another year of experiences under my belt, and more of a foundation to continue building my life upon, there is still so much out there, and the infinite possibilities excite (and even terrify) me.

It's strange. Life, I mean. Always throwing you a curveball. So many deliciously new and comfortably old things. So much to learn...

So much to become...

Small Comforts

2006-10-05T00:47:00.000-04:00

So my phone broke into 17 million pieces and I lost all 250+ phone numbers that were stored in it.

The thing is, I didn't talk to over HALF those people. Some of those numbers were old and outdated. Some were Small Comforts.

People who you just know you're never going to call, people who are never going to call you. But it doesn't matter, because you are comforted by the fact that if you ever need to, for any reason, you can call them.

It's like my MSN list. There are about 250+ people on there too. Do I talk to them all? Of course not. Even the most social butterflies have to fly away some time or another. Who the fuck has time to talk to 250 people on MSN?

But it doesn't matter that I don't talk to them, at least not on a regular basis. If I need to touch base, or ask how someones doing, or just know that they are out there in the world doing their thing, chatting on msn, or otherwise, I can. And that's all I need to know. (You can learn so much from watching peoples MSN names!)

Insurance companies run off small comforts. Small comforts let you sleep through the night. They are a drawer full of freshly washed socks, or a pencil case filled with new pens, or a cell phone with 250+ numbers stored in it.

You don't need all the socks, all the pens or all the numbers but they are there. And that's all that really matters.

PS. If you haven't already...send me your goddamn phone number....

Dear Blog

2006-10-05T00:46:00.000-04:00

It has been far too long, I think, since the last time I ranted/vented/wrote into here. Or at least it seems like it.

On the "Agenda" today, we have 6 different and wonderful subjects...that vary in style and importance and thought.

1. My crazy Mother
2. Freedom to be yourself
3. Women
4. Technology and Us

and for extra fun we will rant about some more typical topics, such as "Friends" and "Boys" and how they do, and do not intertwine.

Okay class, pay attention:

My mother is fucking nuts. I love her dearly, but I don't always know how to do this. I find that I am quite independent of her these days, and for this reason, I suppose I no longer owe her the courtesy of walking all over me and making me feel like utter shite, which she has the occasional tendency to do, God bless her. I suppose this is because is some bizarre way I look up to her so very much, and truly value who she is, what she stands for what she thinks and what she does, even though I spend the better part of my time trying to convince her (and myself) otherwise. There is alot of buried hurt, anger and pain between me and my mother. It's taken years to accumulate and although I think both of us would like to leave it buried, in every argument we have it finds a way to become unburied, and it rears it's ugly head it the most unattractive of ways, and reminds us (and the rest of the family) of how many problems still lie beneath the surface.

Maybe I'm being a bit vague, I don't feel like disclosing details at this moment. The reason this has come up now (and I'm certain it shall be delved into on a deeper level at a later date) is because I, in a terrible funk, decided to let lose via email exactly what I thought of my mother and how she ruined my self esteem as a child and how I feel that she continues to ruin me to this day.

This was a very selfish and unfair thing for me to do. I cannot blame my problems on my mother. I need to let go of this anger towards my mother. I have alot to be thankful for. No doubt she has fucked up, but I have and will continue to recover and I can't blame her for all the problems I have in my life, anymore than I can blame anyone else. She has done her job to the best of her availabilty, do I truly believe this? The answer is do I have a choice.

I thought by finally getting this huge load of my chest and putting it ono her would make me feel better. Of course, because of my stupid, stupid guilty concious, it made me feel A MILLION times worse. It made me feel like an angry child. I refuse to be an angry child anymore.

So once again, directly or indirectly my mother has made me feel like utter shite. God bless her.

(Sidenote: Expression "God bless" is to be taken with a grain of salt...as I hate the word God and never use it in proper context.)

Okay next....freedom of spirit.....freedom to be.

It's funny because this whole "to be" thing is something I've been struggling with for awhile. And my lovely college coach (Greggie - laugh all you want here) Maxine has suggested a movie that may just help me figure that out.

Also I have been thinking alot about being free...to be...and how like dancing has become this terribly twisted thing that like (most things in modern day society) revolve around sex. When dancing should be about freedom of spirit, and music. Not about getting people all worked up into going home with each other for the night.

It's SO STUPID, it makes me SO MAD, how people will laugh at people who are not dancing "right", Why does everything have to be banished into the corners of "right" or "wrong", "correct" or "incorrect", "cool" or "uncool"? People should be free to go out and dance dammit, wiithout feeling embarrassed or ashamed or like they are not doing it properly. Like that Fatboy Slim video, for "Praise You". I still don't quite get wether Fatboy Slim was trying to mock those people or if they were trying to show something pure and genuine. I was just thinking of adding starting a "Freedom of Movement" class to things I need to do when I get older, when I went to the Pheonix on Saturday for part of my one-week birthday extravaganza, and there was this man there, and he was just totally doing HIS OWN thing. Like, it was amazing to see him there, moveing to the music in such unconventional ways. It was beautiful and inspirational and heart-warming. And wonderfully liberating. People need to liberate themselves, I encourage anyone reading these words to go to club and just dance, however you want, and not give a shit about what other people are going to say or do about it.
(Sidenote: The Greggie once told me a marvelous story about how one day he danced all the way home from work with his headphones on...is there any reason not to love him? I think not.)

Also, on a bigger sidenote, today while driving a little bit north of here (where there are fields) I saw this (fully grown) man standing in the midst of a field playing with some kind of remote control airplane. I think it is great to see that people still take the time for remote control airplanes. Boys and their toys, gotta love 'em. (I'm sure women fly them too, but for literary purposes we will sacrifice political correctness, for the moment. It amuses me how people say I am so politically correct. I do value it highly.)

Anyways, back to reclaiming the freedom of oneself. This is the most important thing our society is lacking, I think. And this is where the subtopic of technology ties into things. I'm not going to say much except for the fact that our focus as a society seems to be on making things "harder, better, faster, stronger" (Thanks Daft Punk) and although we spend so much time developing technology, we seem to forget about developing ourselves.

I am getting tired now, because it is 5:30 am, and my cold Kraft dinner is calling me (ahhh, the life of the single twenty-something) so I will go shortly. But to hit my last listed subtopic (we shall touch on boys and friends next time) the topic of women....well it got me thinking how my dear friend Liz was bitching at Starbucks the other day about how television is always depicting subpar guys getting with extraordinary women. That was interesting, and I had to chew on that one for a bit, but eventually after so much chewing I started thinking about something kind of different. About how, today, women do so much to themselves, to beautify. Like, how does a guy even want to wake up in the morning next to someone, who is so full of cosmetic surgery, fake nails, fake tan, fake hair, oodles of makeup etc., you don't even know what they really look like. I mean, I'm not perfect either, I have bought into society too. I straighten my hair and wear lots of makeup because I think without it I look like a guy, or something, so I buy in like every other insecure female. But there is a line, I think, like how much are we willing to alter our looks to feel attractive? Why is society focused on making products to cover ourselves up instead of teaching the importance of self, and teaching us to accept our different physical attributes? And don't even get me started on weight, body image and gym memberships.

Men have alot of pressures too, I think, but they are not so in-your-face. At least their not in my face because thankfully, I am not one. But come on people, penis enlargement pumps? What the FUCK are those? AND WHO FUCKING CARES?

AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, Sameena needs some sleep (and she needs to not order Caramel Machiattos after 5pm) I laugh to myself as "Put a little love in your heart" starts playing on my random Itunes playlist. Ahhh Jackie Deshannon...God bless her too. That sums up the lovely, and incredibly long and exhausting evening I had arguing/debating/talking with Kira (and General) that will be addressed in the next entry, no doubt.

Goodnight all, Class dismissed.

Love, Childhood, and the Stringing of Moments.

2006-10-05T00:40:00.000-04:00

Ughhh...I'm sick, and feeling very much "under the weather". As it has been raining this week, I feel that's the best way to put it.

Alot on my mind these days *surprise*, there's alot of pressure this summer to meet my goals, and stay on top of my finances. I am still feeling like I am in limbo. In the inbetween. Confused. Lost. I am still (and always) a little bit lost.

The other day I was watching Muchmusic, these days that doesn't happen too often. I am not too interested in current music, much less current music videos, although I have to say Pink's "Stupid Girls" is definitly worth a laugh. Back to Muchmusic-the show Video on Trial. Good idea in theory, but the show is kind of shitty, and perpetuates the modern day stereotypes of popstars, being skinny and perfect looking, and being "cool". What do I mean by this? Well Video on Trial is a bunch of whiny (sometimes funny) comedians, making fun of celebrities, they way they dance, what they wear and what they look like. Although the show-good in theory, for possibly making people think critically about what they are watching, instead of blindly accepting music videos as the be all and end all of modern pop culture, the show is destructive, and creates more negativity. It never says anything good about the videos, and it encourages narrow minded views and intolerance. (Or so I think, the beautiful thing about having a blog, is the ability to rant about whatever the hell you want, and since it is your very own space, you have unlimited freedom of opinion. Of course I encourage others to respond int he comments section anytime.)

I think they should start a show called Commercial on Trial. People can evalute commercials and discuss how effective they are. Because some commercials are fucking ridiculous, and the money that funds them can (in my opinion) be put to much better use. I think it would be a great show, forget Video on Trial, talk about something that affects everyone.

Bare with me today if my writing is lacking, as previously mentioned I feel like crap.

Lately I have been turning thought of love through my head. What it is, and what it isn't what it should be, or what we wish will come of it. I think about love often because, well, because it is the big mystery isn't it? That one thing we're all striving for, wether or not we like to admit it. I do not like to admit it. But alas, I am like everyone else. No matter how much I try to be different. No matter how much any of us try to be different, one thing unites us. The quest for love: to give and recieve it. Even in it's most simplest form.

(Sidenote: Home Movies just started on Teletoon-this show is FUCKING FUNNY. Watch it. Weeknights at 1:30am)

Is love as instantaneous as it is on television, or in movies? Or do we just want it to be that way? Is it like faith? Something we all have an idea of, but nothing we ever fully grasp, nothing tangible about it? No. It must be more than that. Love is personal, that's for sure. And although (when it comes to "romantic love") it seems that's what it is at the time, afterwards it never was, and you're back to square one. Love must exist, because I am told so much about it. But it is not like a typical emotion. It is not the opposite of hate any more than life is the opposite of death. Are there different kinds of love? Family love? Friend love? Romantic love? Or am I just attempting to break down something so beyond my capacity so that I have a chance at merely touching on an explanation? There is no explaining love. Who am I to even try?

I think back to the people (and here I am mostly discussing the concept of "romantic love" for lack of better terms) who I have said these wonderful and weird words to, and who has said them to me. I should think that saying them should be liberating. Not overly-dramatic or givien as an ultimatum as it so often happens on t.v. I should also think that one should not be so afraid to say them, as they should be as natural as anything else. When did these three little words become such a big deal? The first person (boy) I said these words to was Johnathan Speers, in second grade. We were working in the hall on an art project. He was my best, best, best friend, and he said it, and I got all embarrassed (as I have the tendency to do) and I was like "Shhh, the grade 8's will hear you." and he said he didn't care, because it was true. So I said it back, even though I wasn't sure if I should. I wasn't sure if I meant them, because I was positive they were supposed to be something monumental. But I said it anyway and we kind of giggled nervously and went back to painting. This was a classic moment. The kind that should be worked into a movie (perhaps the type where boy and girl practice kissing on their arms?) my life is full of these litte moments. I treasure that memory, it is still clear as day. Because even at 7 years old, though you don't really understand those words, you understand their significance on some level. They have a heaviness to them that is not easily lifted.

I laugh to myself as I am writing this, because this is a pathetic example of love. It is two children not having the slightest idea of what they are talking about, or perhaps, it is two children being alot closer to the truth that adults spend whole lifetimes persuing. Either way, in order to fully understand, sometimes you have to go right back to the beginning. I'm trying to understand where I lost all respect for the word love, and everything that it supposedly entails. I'm trying to understand why I think everyone is so fucked up.

Love, marriage, having children, sex, dating, gender-roles and preferences and happy ever after baffles the fuck out of me.

I try to sort out my views on each of these subjects, but I never know where to begin. They are each like 8 foot long ropes, all different colours, so knotted up and intertwined with one another that it is impossible to look at one of them without all the others getting involved. Is this making sense? None of these things exost purely without the rest. And if they do, then I'm even more confused.

I suppose it's not something I really need to sit down and figure out. It is not an arubix cube, that one can solve and put up on a shelf for all others to look at and admire. It is an ongoing question. But it is hard to remember that when everyday I feel I am bombarded with notions of love and sex and the inbetween and I'm not sure what is what and how to go about things. No matter how I try to go about coming up with answers I end up feeling more lost and frustrated and devastatingly misunderstood.

Enough of this, I am giving myself a headache.

I think society above all else, lacks honesty. Honesty and sincerity. It is these things that allow us to become corrupt and focus on the lesser things in life. I think back to Linus waiting in the pumpkin patch, waiting for the Great Pumpkin. He said the Great Pumpkin always chose the most sincere pumpkin patch, and I never really understood why that was important, until now. I also never understood the importance of Charlotte weaving the word "Humble" into her web to describe Wilbur, (Sidenote: Charlotte's Web is being remade, and is due out this year at Christmas. It has an all-star cast of voices and I'm ridiculously excited for it's release. Check out the trailer at http://www.charlotteswebmovie.com/site/index.php. Also in production is Fantastic Mr. Fox, but we'll touch more on that one later.) but as I get older I understand (or at least try to) the importance of being humble.

Charlotte's Web was such a beautiful story. And it brings me back momentarily (like Johnathan Speers) to my childhood. My way-back childhood from before I moved to this area. When life was simple, and everything was covered in innocence. I'm getting nostalgic here. I should go. But it's important to take a few minutes now and then to recall that feeling of childhood, I think. It keeps us grounded in a sense. It's almost like uncovering a lost treasure. Those old memories. There are so many of them. They are like an old comforting blanket, that every now and again we can pull out of the closet and wrap ourselves in, remembering the warmth and softness and the reassurance once provided. Remembering who we were.

The beautiful thing about time is it's permanence, and it's ability to withstand itself. No matter what happens these memories remain untainted, and untouchable. Sometimes I am thankful for that, sometimes I am not. Naturally, there are always things we wish we could change. Things we wish went differently or things we could do over. But there are magical moments in life, opportunities that strike but once, and to go back and erase time, or rewrite it would put these moments at stake. It's a tradeoff I suppose, like anything else. But have you ever just been so thankful for an experience knowing that it is now yours to covet, and that no one (save memory loss) could take it away from you? I had one of these recently, it was lovely and shall be treasured regardless of what does and doesn't come of it. If we look at life as a series of defining moments, each one as special and beautiful and unique as the last, then perhaps we will truly discover the greatness in all of it, as opposed to stringing them altogether and adding expectations. This is, naturally, easier said than done. And there is something to be said for the stringing of moments, because together they create the big picture. Just as there is something to be said for individuality and unity. Both should be recognized and admired seperately.

Well that's enough for now I think, I'm getting tired and I'm sure you are too. More to be written later. I'm sure it will be a summer of limbo. In the inbetween. Confused. Lost. I am still (and all ways) a little bit lost.

I am learning that perhaps this is not such a bad thing.

Infiltration of the Mind

2006-10-05T00:39:00.000-04:00

IS IT ALL IN MY HEAD????

YES.

I feel like I'm fucking losing my mind. I don't even know why. MY LIFE IS EMPTY. IT REEKS OF DESOLATION.

I feel like I cease to exist, to live and to be. The worst part is I don't even understand it.

I say I am in limbo because I do not know any other way to put it. I AM IN LIMBO BECAUSE NOTHING IS REAL. EVERYTHING HAS BECOME MECHANICAL. I FEEL LIKE I'M ALREADY DEAD.

WHAT IS STOPPING THE FEELING OF FULFILLMENT? THE FEELING OF SATISFACTION? THE FEELING OF HAPPINESS?

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX IT. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX IT. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX IT.

My life is on hold. It has been suspended. Nothing makes sense anymore, nothing is good. I feel weak and supressed and depressed and miserable. It's oppressive. There's a feeling of something waiting to break overhead.

I seek solace in media. Books, television, music. They pacify, but only for a short time.

I have never, ever, EVER felt like this before and it scares me. On my way home I felt like my life was flashing before my eyes. I can't pinpoint when or where it started. It just happened. Nothing in my life is....real.

None of the old things do it for me, nothing new I try does it either. WHAT AM I MISSING?

Student council seemed to be helping. Maybe I am suffering from withdrawel of school?

I was waiting and waiting for summer to come. Now it is here, and it's a beautiful letdown.

LIFE IS ONE BIG FUCKING BEAUTIFUL LETDOWN.

IS IT ALL IN MY HEAD? YES.

WHAT THE FUCK AM I WAITING FOR? I DON'T KNOW.

I feel like I don't fit in anywhere. I feel like I am wasting time and energy and money on stupid, frivolous things. I feel so detached. From everyone and everything. DETACHMENT IS THE ANSWER. I HAVE BECOME DETACHED FROM EVERYTHING, INCLUDING PERHAPS, MY VERY OWN SELF.

These questions continue to plague me, all the time. Who am I? Where am I going? What do I want out of life? What does life want from me? What is life? Where does it all lead? What in the world is going on?

I am neither on drugs nor vacation, yet I feel like I took the biggest "trip" of my life today.

It's almost like sinking back into depression. Or my teenage years, whatever those were. I don't want to be depressed again. But everything seems to be losing meaning and is getting all jumbled up.

WHAT THE FUCK IS DEPRESSION ANYWAY? I refuse to believe it's a chemical imbalance of the brain. An infiltration of the mind. It is your soul telling you you are lacking something, I think. Or maybe it's not so fucking simple. Maybe it is a higher level of conciousness when one can briefly tap into all the bulshit that's going on around them. Maybe it's humanity calling out to one another saying WAKE THE FUCK UP AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

Maybe I have gotten to the point where I oveanalyze every little thing so much, I have removed all the fun and mystery from life. I don't even think that's possible. Maybe I have simply outgrown "myself" and need some new and more complex forms of stimuli.

MAYBE I AM JUST IN LIMBO AND HEY SHIT HAPPENS.

I just don't know what I'm doing wrong...

Still Got It...

2006-10-05T00:38:00.000-04:00

The only thing greater than "discovering yourself" and the gifts life offers, is learning to do it over and over again as you age.

I never cease to amaze myself. (And life doesn't either!)

...More or Less

2006-10-05T00:37:00.001-04:00

Although there have been many new interesting/strange/wonderful/tragic new developments in the past little while, I fear I am so drained from them I lack the energy to write/rant about them. (Still digesting the past week or so.)

Lately I'm turning ideas of expectations and judgement. And I have made some new friends (from old aquaintences) who are like a breath of fresh air, that can sometimes overload my senses and make me dizzy.

Thinking about the usual topics too. Thinking about validation and substance abuse, and people, and truths and lies, and old and new, and of course thinking where I fit into it and what it all means.

Interesting day today, long day today. And still I am not so tired (back to visiting starbucks frequently.) But I think it wise to go to bed. And retire my poor overused, overlyanalytical frantic brain before it fries itself out.

My expectations of others scare me, my expectations of myself scar me and my lack of expectations for human kind is devastating.

But before I get into another rant I will just call it a night. At least things are feeling a little bit more normal again, well, sort of.

One thing I would like to record is that I was nominated for a scholarship by one of my teachers at school. She sent me an email about what she was writing, and it was unbelievably moving. The teachers at Seneca (and Council Staff) have made an intense and long-lasting impact on me that not all my high school teachers combined (plus the latter of my elementary school teachers) could even be tried in comparison.

I suppose that's because I've changed alot too. And I'm alot more receptive to what they have to give.

The Hawksley concert is coming up, that's something to look forward to. An evening with Hawksley can probably cure any ailment and encourage the deepest of healing. For me at least, he is a miracle worker.

I still have alot of things to get done and alot of thoughts to ponder in the next little while. But I'll start again on those tomorrow. For now it's time to rest.

False Advertising

2006-10-05T00:37:00.000-04:00

If there is no universal truth and everything and anything we do, see, hear, touch, smell, feel or taste is based purely upon perception, then our representation of self is a picture we paint for others to perceive in any given way.

This being said, if we want our own, possibly skewed, self-perception transmitted into the world as accurately as possible, we must be as concise in our words and clear in our actions as possible. Clarity is key. Otherwise we become a product of our own false advertising.

People-y People, and Pigeon-Holes

2006-10-05T00:36:00.000-04:00

Well, I suppose it's been some time since I've written in here, although it doesn't really feel like it. The summer is hectic, and I find it hard to believe that it's a quarter over already. WHat difference does it make really? Shall we press on?

I have been pondering this state of limbo continuously. (As welll as many other things that should not perhaps, be so overpondered) but I digress.

This limbo. Is confusing. Frustrating. Liberating. Nauseating. Is it a lack of stimulation? If so, is it mental or intellectual? Physical? Sexual? Spiritual? I wonder if I have changed so much in the past little while, that I have become disconnected from myself for the first time in a long time. If this is the case I must assume that this is something perfectly natural, and I'm just "re-adjusting". I wonder if it's because I'm not using my time constructively enough (whatever the hell that means) and I wonder if it's because I am feeling lonely in a way.

I have always considered myself to be a very "people-y" person. Whatever people may say about me, it would be hard to find those who would not say I am outgoing or friendly, and even charismatic. I am also very independant, and I do not like to admit that I depend on things. Things like people. People like people.

I am trying to learn that it is possible to be a people-y person, without being dependent on people. This leaves me feeling disconnected. I am truly trying to find satisfaction in solitude. I preach about it all the time, but sometimes I'm not sure if I'm right. Maybe I'm just scared like everyone else. (Or most others, to not generalize.) I also need to remember that what is right for me (solitude and self-sufficiency in all ways) is not necessarily right for everyone else.

Is that statement true? Is what is right for one person not applicable to the general masses? If so, does the freedom to be and the freedom of choice really exist? Depends on one's definition of "right" I guess.

I am giving myself a headache. (Again.)

Let's take the example of cocaine, since it is such a POPULAR subject these days (makes me want to hit my head against a fucking wall until I can't see through the blood running down my face) COCAINE. If it is not "right" for me to do cocaine. Is it possibly "right" for someone else to? How would that be justified? Nothing is black and white. There are exceptions to every rule. This must always be remembered, and tends to be the general problem (I find) with philosophy/logic. We can say things like school is not "right" for everyone, because wether you go to school or not does not result in detrimental affects to your health/mind/body/soul/being. So wether or not you would like to go to school is more open to freedom of choice. Cocaine is not so open ( I don't think) and I find myself grappling with the reasons as to why more and more these days.

This is not something I'm happy doing. It is unfair for me to try and change others, and expect them to listen to me about their lives/lifestyles. Who am I to say anything? What do I know? Nothing. I know shit all about it, really. But it is unfair for me to stand by, and watch people who I care about, people who are better than this and who don't even realize it, blow everything they have out their noses. It makes me sick. I won't have anything to do with it. I won't. I won't. I won't.

Again I digress. What is right for you is not necessarily right for me. But it can be, depending on what it is.

Back to being a people-y person:

I stand by my thoughts on self-sufficiency. If people took half the time they invested into getting laid and invested it into the development of self, I'd like to think we'd be living in a completely different (better) world.

So then, back to being a non-dependent (or less-dependent) people-y person. Okay, so now to dissect that. Well here is a story that sums up what I'm trying to say. It is in regards to perceptions.

Perceptions are truths. But not difinitive truths. Difinitive truths are things that cannot be disputed, correct? for the most part they involve events that have happened, or things that are undisputable. ie. it is true you will die without water, that is a fact. It is not true however, that I am intelligent. It may be true to me, or my close friends and family (or at least I hope so!), but I'm sure there are people in ther world who think I'm a fucking moron, and that's their truth. And that's okay, right?

Okay, so to sum it up in this story here. My dear mother, my (best?) friend Kira (who is rather more like a soulmate than anything else, but a soulmate who is sort of on vacation at the moment) and I went to the Firkin (naturally) one night for drinks. This was a fairly long time ago, at least 3 years. Kira is like family, and so this was a perfectly natural way to spend an evening. There was this guy, at the bar. Young. Maybe a year or two older than me at the time. I try to keep an open mind when talking to strangers. FIrst impressions account for alot, but they are not everything. People are so multi-faceted that if you are lucky enough to get a glimpse into one (good or bad) you must trust that this encounter does not embody the wholeness of the person in question. Is this making any sense? (I must digress for a minute here and say that pigeon-holes are evil things. And I pigeon-hole people all the time. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. Regardless it is something I have become aware of and desperately need to change.) Keeping an open mind means not judging people based on one encounter is basically what I'm trying to say. Even though it's very difficult not to. Okay, back to this story: So this guy and I are talking, and he says: (and I quote:) "You are only as good as someone else says you are." Okay well my darling mother (being the strong-willed, independant, fiercely ideal woman she is) and Kira (being something of the same sort) immediately jump down this guys throat and go all fucking bonkers on him telling him that the only thing that matters is what you think, and not to give a shit about anyone else's opinion.

I think they missed what he was trying to say. Granted he was being a bit of an arrogant fuck, but neither of them would listen to each other and I got really mad because they were both wrong and right. (Or so I choose to believe, but in what proprtion I could not say.) and I couldn't get a word in edgewise, which is just as well because I probably would have called them all idiots. (The guy being cynical and the mother+kira being far too naive.)

How is the guy right? If your self-perception is skewed, which is so often can be, you need other people (hopefully trusted/loved ones) to gently bring you back down to planet earth. And point out things about yourself you don't necessarily realize. Things that are to be admired and also, of course, areas of opportunity.

But also, you cannot base your life/decisions/existence on what others say or think of you, because you'll go fucking crazy. (It's like the fable of the man and the boy and the donkey, and in the end they all fall in the river..it's by Aesop, check it out.) But also, you can't rule out everyones opinion either (because chances are you'll become some kind of ego-maniac). I suppose this brings us back to the beautiful (and somewhat unattainable) idea of balance. And how it really is the only universal rule.

This leads me to think about self-confidence. Something I am trying to (clumsily) build from the ground up. Still after years of what I refer to as nothing short of torture in the latter years of elementary school, I find it hard to look in the mirror and smile. I reclaim the power those people had over me bit by bit (especially when I have the occasional run-in with one and they hit on me) but it's a timely process. I still feel ugly alot.

I do not feel unattractive. But I do not feel good-looking. Is this important? It shouldn't be. I shouldn't need to feel "good-looking". Beauty is subjective. I try to remind myself of that. It's just hard when you think that the reason people don't really pursue interest in you is because you're not "hot" enough. I don't even want to be pursued. Especially not for that reason. Anyone who plays a substantial part of my life must be substantial themselves. And superficiality is the complete opposite of substantiality. So who fucking cares right?

Well apparently I do.

So back to confidence. It often makes me sad how people are so quick to cut each other down. Confidence is a strange thing. I don't think I know single person who has an adequate amount. It makes me wonder if that's one of the things were supposed to be working towards in this lifetime. People are either live in a state of self-loathing, or they overcompensate to no end. (Well, there are the inbetween, but I sometimes must generalize for literary effect. Bare with me.) But again I'm quick to judge, because I have not thought about the other side. If nobody made anybody feel insecure sometimes, everyone would just think the'yre the greatest thing ever, and nobody would ever feel the need to change or grow. People need to be humbled by others. I don't think they can do it themselves.

Not to say that we should all go around cutting up each other, but we can't all live in a sugar-coated word either. Once again, that brings me back to the way in which we express ourselves. Clarity, conciseness and also compassion. These things are so important.

Well I think that's enough for tonight. Still in limbo. Still frustrated. Still exhilarated. I shall return shortly, as there is much more to rant about. Until then I will continue to ponder, as I hope I always will.

To Huevos Rancheros And Maya Angelou

2006-10-05T00:30:00.000-04:00

The following is from an email I received from aa very special person. I'd like to share it:
(Sidenote: the title of this blog is a line from a song in a certain musical I'm slightly obsessed with, it seemed to fit the bill, well at least the latter.)

In April, Maya Angelou was interviewed by Oprah on her 70+ birthday. Oprah asked her what she thought of growing older. And, there on television, she said it was "exciting." Regarding body changes, she said there were many, occurring every day...like her breasts. They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist, first. The audience laughed so hard they cried. She is such a simple and honest woman, with so much wisdom in her words!

Maya Angelou said this:

"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow."

"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights."

"I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're
gone from your life."

"I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as "making a life."

"I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance."

"I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back."

"I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision."

"I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one."

"I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone.

"People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back."

"I've learned that I still have a lot to learn."

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

I enjoy Maya Angelou and found some of these quotes especially inspiring.

I will leave them for you to ponder. But before I go, I would like to specifically point out the third one to L.S., it seems to go along with the email your mother sent you (and I hope to touch further onto that next time.) I really appreciate what you said tonight, as I value your opinion highly. And C.H.: I told you I like philosophy! (I guess it depends on who you're discussing with.) I truly enjoy reading your comments/thoughts and look forward to coffee/girlchat soon (as I am thinking it's long overdue).

My personal favourites are the last two. Oh, and the fourth from the bottom. Oh, and the sixth one. Ah, fuck it. They're all good!!!

I need some room to breathe.

2006-10-05T00:29:00.000-04:00

I am feeling overwhelmed and slightly smothered.

This is my own fault.

I am frustrated at my lack of self-discipline.

I want to make better choices for my life in all aspects, and yet I lack the will-power to fully commit to these choices and execute them. Why? Good question.

This limbo has boiled down to a lack of stimulation.

Slowly I am finding myself appreciating good conversation more and more these days, and the people who partake in it. Good conversation is not as easy to come by as some people may think.

I need to take some steps back, not backwards, maybe back is not the best choice of word. I have been going back. Lately. To understand and reflect. But right now I need to take some steps away.

This is why it is so ideal to have two wonderfully different groups of friends. I am free to shift back and forth between them as is suits me. Also, I'd like to take some more time to myself, for it seems like that is when I'm the most content. I also would like to devote a little more time to family, as I have been neglecting that area for a little while now.

I need some time to relax. And not let the drama and bullshit and corruption leak into my brain, body and soul. I need to find the courage to really listen to the inner voices that are growing ever-tired of e pushing them away.

I will throw myself even further into my hectic schedule, and make time for the people I have not seen in a long time.

Is this another distraction? Could be.

Isn't it all just one big distraction after another?

ARE YOU NOT READING THIS TO GET AWAY FROM YOUR OWN LIFE?

It's funny because sometimes I think that's exactly why I'm writing it.

Onion Days

2006-10-05T00:27:00.000-04:00

Onion Days

Wow, I've been lacking in the blogging lately. The best blogging is done after midnight...at least I think it's that way for me. Lately after midnight I am at a bar, somewhere in the vicinity of Unionville Mainstreet. Usually the Rose and Firkin. Trying to somewhat enjoy the summer. Sometimes are more fun than others. I think I've realized (yet again) that this limbo, that I so often write about, is really a gap between the ages. To sum it up in a Britney Spears song (and I hope I never have to do that again) is that:

I'm not a girl, not yet a woman.

Holy Jesus, is that corny or what?

It's true though. In many ways that I can't explain. And some that I will try to. Well. On second thought. The sentence is pretty self-explanatory I guess. I am both and neither and in the inbetween. Hence, the limbo.

Life continues to constantly amaze me. And I am very thankful (or try to be) for all it's offerings. However, I am also feeling as though I'm on the edge of life somehow. In the sense that I am not really content, and not living it to it's fullest potential. But how the hell do you do that? I go through all these actions that I've planned out so carefully, so as not to waste my summer. But sometimes I feel I'm not really in them. I am watching from the sidelines. I am watching myself live my life with the utmost detachment.

It's FUCKED UP.

Note: I don't always feel this way. Only sometimes. This is one of those times.

It's like I don't even know what I want to do. When I have time off I mean. Like, I ask myself, "What do you feel like doing?" And I can't come up with anything interesting enough.

This is where the second part of the limbo comes in. Life continues to amaze me in little ways. Magical ways. Like peaceful scenes in a movie. Sometimes I feel like I'm part of a t.v. show somewhere, quite similar to The Truman Show. Not my own show, just like a side storyline. Because some of these moments feel so practiced. So played out. So perfect. They are scenes that as a Director I couldn't conduct better if I conciously tried. In my philosophy class last semester there was a line by philosopher Daniel Dennett, something about fitting the "pictures" (in your life) to the "soundtrack". This happens to me all the time. I will giive you an example of these occasions. Of these magic moments.

Driving home one day (on Elgin Mills road), through fields and countryside, I saw a grown man flying a kite. I saw a grown man standing in a field, in the sunshine, flying a kite. It was beautiful.

Another time I was driving to work (late, of course) cursing the train that was crossing the road and simultaneously blocking my path. But, as the train crossed, there were children looking out the window and smiling and waving to the people in the cars. It was absolutely lovely.

And of course the music in my car at the time just seemed to go right along with it. Like a scene from a movie.

These are moments that I feel priveledged to witness. Maybe this all sounds bogus, to you, the person reading this blog, Maybe you think I'm reading into things a little too much here. But I really think these are the moments that renew our faith in humanity a little bit at a time. That's what they do for me anyways. These moments are like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Warm and sweet and inspiring.

But these moments are viewed, not partaken in. Sometimes these kinds of moments are partaken in. It couldn't happen all the time, otherwise it wouldn't be as special as it can sometimes be, and here I'm reminded of a line from the Musical "Into the Woods" (which is afore mentioned in previous blog entries) which goes something like:

Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one-But if life were only moments, then you'd never know you had one.

It's actually one of my favourite lines in the play. It's really an amazing musical. You probably need to see it in context to get the full weight of the line. But there you have it.

So, I can understand the preciousness of these moments, and feel grateful for them. But when it comes to my life, I don't know....sometimes I feel so uninspired.

I have my Limewire on shuffle right now, and I have to say I'm throughly enjoying the playlist. I sometimes like to think of people as in the context of a song. Like, if I asked you to answer the question "If you were a song, what song would you be?" Well of course that is a stupid question. It's like asking you what crayon you would be, or what vegetable or animal or whatever. It's ridiculous. People are far too multi-faceted to be summed up in one of those things. Even as something as powerful and moving as a song. You are not just a carrot or a radish or an onion or a big piece of broccoli. You are all of these things at different times. Everyone has their onion days. And sometimes you luck out and find yourself being a cherry tomato.

But you can be different songs at different moments (think pictures and soundtracks and things). It's wonderful, how impactful music can be. Someone once told me it was the closest thing to human emotion. I would like to say that guy knew what the fuck he was talking about. For sure he did.

So one of the questions our teacher asked us in my philosophy class last semester (I swear I learned more in that class this semester than in any class in my whole entire academic career) was that if you were in the middle of NOWHERE, and there was NOBODY around, and you were stuck at a red light at like 3 a.m., with NO CHANCE of getting caught, would you run it? I still say no, but he thought that was a bit bogus. Because he says of course you would. I say no. Here's why:

I want to live my life for me, not for anyone else. Some days I do better at this than others (days I mean, not people). So when I drive it should be the same thing. If I believe in following the rules of the road, for the sheer importance of their implementation, I should be consistent in doing so, regardless of who's around. Maybe it's selfish to stop because it makes me feel better about myself (that I am a good driver, that I uphold the law etc.) But I stop for me. Not for anyone else. Take that statement for as many ways as I mean it.

What's the extra 10 seconds anyways?

When we go rushing through life we miss the little things. We miss the man in the field flying his kite, and the children waving to you from the train. We need to stop and smell the flowers. Before they all wither away.

Buying In...

2006-10-05T00:23:00.000-04:00

My boobs are shrinking.

I find it funny how the ONE part of my body I DON'T want to get rid of, is the first to go...how the hell is that fair?

I'm annoyed with how much I seem to have let myself go. I will try to remember just how hard it is to get into shape the next time I decide to stop caring what I eat and revert to my old bad habits (not exercising etc.)

Today's topic is singledom: I have much to say about me and my singledom. It is hard for me to talk about this sort of thing out loud. Firstly, because anyone who knows me well enough knows that I'm not very good at talking about it (the whole love, relationships, sex, dating conglomeration tht just gets bigger and more ominous every day) and secondly because it is hard to be honest with the people around you when you are never completely honest with yourself.

My blog is, if nothing else, a place for honesty.

Now, please. Don't get me wrong here. Because I absolutly LOVE hearing about when people read my blog, and what they have to say about it. I mean obviously it is published out in cyberspace for a reason. But I have to admit knowing who the individual people are who take the time to read it sometimes makes me hesitate to say certain things, in certain ways. And I feel like I have to be careful to preserve a sense of self-image with these people whilst filling up the page.

Whatever I write here, is not to be attention seeking. Or to invoke pity or sympathy or ridicule.

It's for me to be honest and creative.

I'm not saying that's what people think when they read this, I'm just saying it because sometimes I complain about self-esteem and problems I've had and it's not so you, the reader, will immediately come to me and console me with comforting words. (You can if you like, but that's not why I write, is what I'm trying to say.)

Okay, so back to what I was saying. Singledom. Oh, and Body Image.

It sometimes makes me mad how mad I am at myself and my weight/appearance.

I have been thinking lately alot about not only the person I want to be, but the person I want to convey (wether they are the same or not, I'm not entirely sure, I don't think they are...but don't ask me to explain how they differ just yet...) The person I want to be AND convey is someone confident, smart and sexy.

Translation: Confidence+Brains=Sex Appeal.

The brains thing is a work in progress. I'm not so concerned about that (at least at the moment), it's more the confidence thing. And how that ties into being sexy. And also, just being sexy, i.e. being fit and all that.

I mean, I can bullshit you all you want, and say "I want to lose weight to be more healthy, and up my energy level and feel better about myself, etc. etc." But let's face it: I just want to look hot in a bikini dammit. (Or in general!) I mean, I want to be healthier too, but that's like the whipped cream on a chocolate mousse cake...It's merely an added bonus.

Mmmmmmchocolatemousse.

Okay getting off topic here. What I'd like to say about Body Image and all that is the kind of person I want to be is also someone who accepts people for who they are and appreciates the beauty and diversity in everyone. And I can honestly say I think I do this, but I always make myself the exception to that rule. I can easily accept the beauty and diversity of the people around me, but I want to be one of the people I can't stand who conform to society's standards about what a woman in her 20's should look like, at least on some level. I don't want to be a stick figure with boobs, but I want to be slim and toned. Because that's sexy apparently. Or maybe the stick figure with boobs is more sexy. Or MAYBE sexy is many different things to many different people, Or MAYBE people are programmed with what's sexy, or MAYBE sexy is being who you are and loving it. Who fucking knows?

Bottom line is: I'm shallow sometimes, and I want to be sexy.

This means getting into shape. I would liketo point out here something I learned in grade 6 where we had this bizarro program that lasted a few days where we learned about our rights and drug use and the pressure or our peers and what we should strive for, and at the end of it we had some bullshit graduation ceremony where we all sang "Lean On Me" as if we gave a shit about each other, which we didnt and I can tell you right now about half of that grade 6 class is probably living in a ditch somewhere, but that's another rant for another day. Anyways, one of the activities we did was the coach (or whoever it was) handed out a sheet that had women 1 through 10 (from stick-thin to portly, for lack of a better term) and men from 1 to 10 (as just the same) and we were told to pick our ideal body type and the ideal body type of th member of the opposite sex.

The results for the girls in the class came back mostly in the 3's. Apparently this was the average rating for any female taking this "test".

You'll have to forgive me here, because I don't remember much about the guy part of this, but what I DO remember, is the coach telling us that although most women pick #3 as their ideal body type, almost all males pick female #4 as their ideal size for member of opposite sex.

Well maybe you are missing my message here but I'm saying that women are all fucked in the head.

We all think we need to be 3's. (To be sexy that is,) and apparently men actually want 4's.

Not that I'm saying we need to conform to what men want either. Not saying that at all. What I am saying is that we should have a clear idea of what is, as opposed to what we think is. Because most likely we are wrong. And we are ridiculous, and impose ridiculous standards upon ourselves and the people around us for no good reason.

But I'm also full of shit because I'm still feeling gross and overweight and I want to diet and exercise so that I can look half-decent for the pool party I'm supposed to attend in 3 weeks from today.

Okay, it's 3am, and I've had a long day, and I have an even longer one ahead of me tomorrow, so I have to call it a night. But rest assured I will continue this rant in the next 48 hours. Because I have alot to say about singledom all of a sudden. And it's not going to be pretty.

...or Selling Out?

2006-10-05T00:22:00.000-04:00

Unfortunately due to the fact that the last blogging was actually much over 48 hours ago, I have lost the train of thought on which I'd like to continue. Oh well, shit happens.

I'm sure if I start somewhere, the rest will come back to me, or at least some of it will, and if not then I guess it wasn't that important anyways.

I could go back and re-read the last entry, for a hint or two. But I never really re-read what I write in here. Because then I feel the need to edit. And if I edit the writing loses a sense of purity, or so I feel.

So where was I going?

Okay, well let's talk about selling out:

Is it bad? Is it really a bad thing? I guess it depends who you're talking to.

I feel like sometimes I am too "mainstream". This is beause I like the radio and I don't watch enough "B-side" movies. Does this make me lame? I think so. Why is Indie oh-so-cool? Why are the people who talk about underground media deemed to have that much more depth to them? Mainstream can have depth. Can't it?

When it comes to selling out...again, here I feel I've lost what I was trying to say. This is the problem about putting your mind on hold (or trying to). It doesn't work, because you get so wrapped up in the thought process of the moment, if you try to come back to it later, it's evolved into something beyond your own recognition. Damn subconcious.

What I wanted to talk about in the sense of selling out had to do with women and sex and "overbeautifying" I think. I wanted to make some points that struck me as interesting. I cannot speak for men, or even all women. But I think it is fair to say that women spend so much time fighting who they are (and here I'm talking on a more physical level, but it applies to emotional and mental etc, too) and we as people continuously profit off the tools n which women use to do so. Such as: make-up, hair products, shaving cream and razors, moisturizers, weight-loss products, jewely, designer clothing etc. It's ridiculous. Now I sell myself out too. Don't think I don't know that. But like my clouded idea of where to draw the line on vegetarianism, I am unsure of where to draw the line in cosmetics (and I use the word broadly) because even though I think make-up is fucking stupid, I don't want to walk around with hairy arm-pits or not use deoderant. Because I htink that's gross. Or maybe I've allowed myself to be conditioned by society's standards of grossness. It's mind-boggling.

Think about how many people around the world are starving. People who would do anything for a mouthful of food. PEOPLE WHO ARE CONSISTENTLY DYING FROM STARVATION. And here we have people with eating disorders. People who will not eat because they want to be considered popular or beautiful. People who will INDUCE VOMITING so as not to let the weight of food stay in their stomachs. Now I understand that it's a mental condition and I'm not so much pointing fingers at the people suffering from these disorders as I am the society that perpetuates them.

Think about racism. About "White Supremacy". Think about the way we have people pushed down because they are a "Minority". Think about how many people of darker skin have been terrorized or held back or punished. Now you see thousands of people paying out the nose for fake tans. They want their skin to look exotic and beautiful. They do not want to burn in the sun. They want to permanently look like they just got back from a tropical island vacation. Yet there are many people out there who I'm willing to bet would give their eye-teeth to "blend in better". It's just a thought, don't go all crazy on me. I'm just pointing out what I'm sure is someones truth somewhere.

I wanted to rant about singledom and sex and primary and secondary needs, but I have another thing plaguing me at the moment. So I'm going to skip around to what happened to me yesterday and how it scared the fucking shit out of me.

Yesterday, I think, quite possibly, for the first time ever, I lay awake for hours worrying about the future.

It was all kinds of excruciating.

I never worry about the future, or time. Well, not like I was yesterday. Not about MY FUTURE.

I'm talking about the rest of my fucking life kind of future. I'm talking about my career future and goal future and how I'm probably going to be thirty-fucking-years-old-by-the-time-I-finish-school-future.

I'm talking about the fact that if I'm thirty years old by the time I finish school, what hope is there for me to CHANGE THE ENTIRE WORLD? HOW WILL I BE BUILDING SHELTERS AND SCHOOLS AND CHANGING THE ENTIRE POLITICAL SYSTEM AND OPENING NEW DOORS FOR SOCIETY AND DEVELOPING THIRD WORLD COUNTRIES AND INSPIRING YOUTH AND MAKING A DIFFERENCE AT FIFTY FUCKING YEARS OLD? I assume it will take a good 20 years to develop the contacts, tools, skills and experience, not to mention the fucking reputation I would need, or money to do any of these things. Who is going to listen to some fifty year old lunatic with saggy tits? I wouldn't. Let me tell you. If I were to listen to someone who wanted to change the world they'd better be young and hip and on the same page I am. They cannot be squinting through spectacles and have wrinkly knee-caps. They have to be exuberant and energetic and charismatic. They have to have an image. I feel like I'm doomed already.

If I'm done school at thirty, that gives me such little time. Why oh why did I not think about life a little clearer when I was younger? Oh yes, because I consistently wished I were dead. That's right.

Religion and Spirituality are two totally different things (at least to me), and my sense of faith is incredibly strong. It is that strength that has provided much comfort in the past few years and has kept nights of worrying at bay. I have to remember that my life is where it needs to be for the time being, and all I can do is try my best.

When I was younger I much expected life at 23 to be like an episode of Sex and the City (except not so much Sex, more City) drinking martinis with the closest of girlfriends. Living an exciting and glamourous life, so much promise and opportunity. Now I see that as my life at 30 (now perhaps, not so much City...j/k) but I have the feeling when I get to thirty, it will not be so glamourous or exciting. It will be me, same as always, struggling to keep my shit together. Watching everyone else around me sink or swim. Feeling nervous and unsure and not entirely content. And I'm terrified. What once used to hold endless possibility now seems to be narrowing and tapering off into a very predictable and unsatisfying life. Greggie calls it buying into the system. I call it slow death.

I can't wait 7 years to begin my life. And with the pressures of school, I don't know what else to do. I'm so scared of not accomplishing everything that I want to do. 23 years have passed and I have little to show for that untile recently. And although I agree that you generally take the first quarter of your life to establish who you are, so you can live the next three with more conviction and control, I am still worried about how little time there is left...

Mona Lisa Frown?

2006-10-05T00:21:00.000-04:00

Sometimes we hear a particular song, or see a particular movie, or read a particular book, that falls in line so neatly with what were facing in our own lives at the time, we cannot help but feel enlightened.

I find not always, but sometimes--alot of the time, the reason we become angry with someone for something is usually because this something is something we're envious of, or want for ourselves in some way or another. I believe it may be called projection, and maybe there's another term to describe what it means when we put down others for things they have or things they do because secretly we are jealous. Why must we demean one another? Even if it is somebody close to us? It seems in those cases we can be even more terrible, for we know which buttons to push. Even if we regret it later. Does that mean we're truly evil? Or truly flawed? Or neither?

Do we instinctively put down the things we want that others have? Or is this a learned defense? A defense mechanism, as I believe they are called. Its similar when you like someone and you treat them like garbage. I do this consistently. I don't know why. Well maybe I do. I suppose it's some deep-rooted fear of rejection. The simple rationalization of: Well of course he's not going to like me, I'm a complete bitch to him. Or, I will continue to be a bitch to him until he breaks down all these walls and proves to be a knight in shining armour. Either way it's sick and twisted.

I feel like the invariable suffragette. It's ridiculous at times. And really, when I ask myself what has changed since the 50's as far as women's roles go, I'm not so sure there's much of a difference, (but that could be me being jaded and cynical). We are still dressing up for men, still striving to look younger, sexier, thinner, and yet more voluptuous. We are still trying to bag a husband. Or are we? Am I generalizing? Maybe I'm just having a moment...

Maybe I'm being unfair to housewives. As they are women too.

And there is no One Right Way to be a woman. (Or a man!)

Who am I to judge? I mean, sometimes I'm so far on the otherside that I fault myself for being as fluffy headed as the girls who dream of bridal dresses before they learn to walk. I am no better than them. I judge people for being weak so quickly. And I don't know why... I just want to see people have more, do more and be more for themselves. I feel like they sell themselves for too little too quickly. I feel like they buy in for the wrong reasons and never get their moneys worth. I feel like some of the major areas of opportunity in the western world stem from our values of relationships and sex. And I feel that in order to challenge society we have to challenge ourselves. And become stronger, smarter, and most of all more self-reliant. And the first step to that is not settling.

Why do I look down on people in relationships? Am I demeaning the things I don't have? Or am I right about people being motivated by the wrong things? Maybe I'm just against unhealthy relationships, and realtionships that take over entire lives. Maybe I have to blow everything up until it's bigger than life so I feel like I can see it better. I should instead consider investing in a magnifying glass, so that I am the one who remains in control.

This is something I need to reflect on, although I have been trying to figure it out for years. Once again I feel that in order to play psychologist to myself I have to go back, and re-examine the past.

But tonight, I'm just going to sleep on it.

It all started when...

2006-09-18T02:03:00.000-04:00

I have moved my Blog.

Voila! This is it's new home.

I wrote a "Starter Entry" previous to this one, but I didn't like it, for a number of reasons. Namely, because it was very negative. I need to stop being so negative.

There are rules for my blog, unspoken and otherwise. I don't like to rehash the events of my day. I don't like to get too detailed or particular. I don't like to bitch about things I believe to be superficial (Boys, Gossip, Money, etc.) But rules are made to be broken, and I (the Blogowner) am free to break these rules at will, given close discretion and sufficient reasoning (This is ironic, because one of the unspoken rules is to never justify, therefore you will never know wether I have sufficient reasoning or not, Muahahahaha).

Well, a new school year has recently started and there is much on the go. There are, as with any high point of change, a need for self-reflection and improvement. I am already working (incredibly hard) towards one goal, now I need to work on my nerves.

However, I shall delve a little deeper into that another day. I would like to now take a minute to explain why I moved this blog, and how it has come to be what it is, and what my future hopes and expectations are for it.

I moved my Blog because Nicole told me I should, basically that's what it comes down to. Msn has gotten on my nerves with it's Windows Live Beta Crap (sort of the same way Facebook has gotten on my nerves with it's "mini-feed") and I wanted my Blog to be more accessible to not only myself, but the people out there who actually enjoy reading it (whoever those loonies are). Nicole's Blog is actually linked from here on the right, and that's another reason I moved my Blog. Because "serious bloggers" need a serious space to blog in, and "Blogger" is hardcore. Let me assure you.

As time progresses, I will be moving my past entries (from my Msn Space) over to this space. And if you want to know why the hell I of all people started a blog, you can go back to my first blog entry ever, or you can see how theraputic it must be for a person to empty their head into cyberspace by continuing to read these pages. But be warned, I do not assume any responsibility for you if you are left in a dizzying state of confusion in which you no longer know your own name. My rantings seem to have that effect on some people.

Proceed with caution.