There is a legend of a wall that existed long ago in a city. It was one of those castle-y type cities surrounded by walls made out of stone. More of a town really.
The wall on the south side of the town was the tallest, thickest part of the enclosure. For years it protected the city from invasion from the southern adversaries. The townspeople, over the years, had turned this trusty wall into a monument of sorts.
The walls were covered in reasons. Little tid-bits of paper, stuck onto the stones or between the cracks, with reasons scrawled all over them. Reasons to get married, reasons to become a black smith or a baker, reasons to have children, or go to war, or sing a song.
The most common one was unspecified; "Because I'm ready".
Soon the reason wall attracted outsiders. People from all parts of the world would visit and read the reasons people had for living their anonymous lives. Visitors were also allowed to add their reasons to the wall.
The most common one for them, was why they came to the wall; "I needed to know why".
Centuries past and the wall became filled with reasons. Reasons to buy a cat, reasons to fill a prescription, reasons to order Chinese food for dinner.
But the wall was old and tired of carrying the burden of people's choices. It began to fall apart-- brick by brick. A wall of crumbling confirmations.
People began to live listless lives. Not knowing why they did things, they stopped doing them. The wall was giving up and why shouldn't they.
That wall had protected them. That wall had bravely carried the weight of all their confirmations for hundreds of years.
And all the stones eventually rolled away. And all the little pieces of paper blew away. And a gas station was built in it's place. Because the people needed fuel, now more than ever, to keep going on with their lives.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Rain: Come Again Another Day
Rain is everywhere in Seattle. Or, put more simply, rain IS Seattle. I am constrantly wet. I'm usually cold. And I am often lazy because of it. It's been weeks since I have woken up, thrown open the curtains and upon seeing the day outside, say, I am ready for this day! Usually it's more like I shrug and say, I can do that.
I have this idea that people are often thrown into a hunter-gather-esque, primal, survival mode when they are outside of their comfort zone. When someone doesn't feel totally at ease, they will enter this mental state: just get through the day. Just survive from sun up to sun down and you win.
This leads to people to eat, breath, and sleep... But not much else.
I have this in Seattle in the dead of winter. I wake up (barely), I go to class, I eat, and I go home to my dorm and do homework until I sleep. I do the minimum of everything I have to do. I hit snooze until the last second to get up. I eat whatever is closest or cheapest. I do the homework that is immediately due the next day.
It's like mental hibernation. Last year, I wasn't aware of how much this affected my life. This year I came back to Seattle prepared. Not that stopped it from happening, but at least I can recognize it. This January has been awesome, actually. I have tried to see a friend everyday, and I've done it relatively well. But now I've started falling off the bandwagon and I recognized it! Probably just in time! Last week I got sick and spent a lot of time in survival mode and by Sunday I was essentially better. I knew that this week was important. This week is going to make or break my mental hibernation.
There is something called S.A.D.-- seasonal affected disorder. Many people who move north can get it-- Like from San Francisco to Seattle. So I've decided to come up with a list of personal goals (like second New Years Resolutions) for the next two months of Seattle.
1. Stay out of your dorm room as much as possible. Be with people in public places. Study in the library or in a quiet building.
2. Be outside as much as possible. The fresh air will do you good. It might be cold wet but it will clear your head. And any vitamin D will help.
3. Take vitamin supplements. Seriously. You bought them for a reason. They aren't there for decoration.
4. Eat better. I know you said you wouldn't care about your diet but you had a salad at the salad bar tonight and those tomatoes and cucumber were literally (and I do mean literally) the best thing you've tasted this week. I don't think it's chocolate you've been craving lately...
5. Make friends. Nothing feels better than fostering new friendships. You've got some great prospects, do what needs to be done. When you are laughing and smiling, it's hard to feel tired.
6. Go the fuck to sleep. Seriously, you are the worst at not watching a million episodes of How I Met Your Mother. I know they are only 20 minutes long but when you hit the snooze for 20 minutes in the morning... I know you've never liked going to sleep but your brain won't turn off if you don't let it. Drink some tea, read some boring ass homework and knock out, dude.
7. Use caffeine to your advantage. I know they say you shouldn't drink a lot of caffeine but you are in fucking college. Drink as much God damn coffee as you need to get through the day. Three lattes is a lot better than falling asleep in class everyday.
8. NEVER EVER TAKE 8:30 CLASSES AGAIN YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT. I DON'T CARE HOW COOL THE ELECTIVE CREDIT IS, I DON'T EVEN WANNA HEAR IT.
There, that needed to be said.
But also, I'll note that the dead of winter is the dead of winter. No matter what, at least in Seattle, it's gunna suck. Remember the fall months and the spring months on either side. And remember that you are leaving the country in two months so it doesn't even really matter. (Oh, yeah, um, I'm going to Italy in March... I guess I'll talk about that later... Since you probably didn't know that.)
I have this idea that people are often thrown into a hunter-gather-esque, primal, survival mode when they are outside of their comfort zone. When someone doesn't feel totally at ease, they will enter this mental state: just get through the day. Just survive from sun up to sun down and you win.
This leads to people to eat, breath, and sleep... But not much else.
I have this in Seattle in the dead of winter. I wake up (barely), I go to class, I eat, and I go home to my dorm and do homework until I sleep. I do the minimum of everything I have to do. I hit snooze until the last second to get up. I eat whatever is closest or cheapest. I do the homework that is immediately due the next day.
It's like mental hibernation. Last year, I wasn't aware of how much this affected my life. This year I came back to Seattle prepared. Not that stopped it from happening, but at least I can recognize it. This January has been awesome, actually. I have tried to see a friend everyday, and I've done it relatively well. But now I've started falling off the bandwagon and I recognized it! Probably just in time! Last week I got sick and spent a lot of time in survival mode and by Sunday I was essentially better. I knew that this week was important. This week is going to make or break my mental hibernation.
There is something called S.A.D.-- seasonal affected disorder. Many people who move north can get it-- Like from San Francisco to Seattle. So I've decided to come up with a list of personal goals (like second New Years Resolutions) for the next two months of Seattle.
1. Stay out of your dorm room as much as possible. Be with people in public places. Study in the library or in a quiet building.
2. Be outside as much as possible. The fresh air will do you good. It might be cold wet but it will clear your head. And any vitamin D will help.
3. Take vitamin supplements. Seriously. You bought them for a reason. They aren't there for decoration.
4. Eat better. I know you said you wouldn't care about your diet but you had a salad at the salad bar tonight and those tomatoes and cucumber were literally (and I do mean literally) the best thing you've tasted this week. I don't think it's chocolate you've been craving lately...
5. Make friends. Nothing feels better than fostering new friendships. You've got some great prospects, do what needs to be done. When you are laughing and smiling, it's hard to feel tired.
6. Go the fuck to sleep. Seriously, you are the worst at not watching a million episodes of How I Met Your Mother. I know they are only 20 minutes long but when you hit the snooze for 20 minutes in the morning... I know you've never liked going to sleep but your brain won't turn off if you don't let it. Drink some tea, read some boring ass homework and knock out, dude.
7. Use caffeine to your advantage. I know they say you shouldn't drink a lot of caffeine but you are in fucking college. Drink as much God damn coffee as you need to get through the day. Three lattes is a lot better than falling asleep in class everyday.
8. NEVER EVER TAKE 8:30 CLASSES AGAIN YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT. I DON'T CARE HOW COOL THE ELECTIVE CREDIT IS, I DON'T EVEN WANNA HEAR IT.
There, that needed to be said.
But also, I'll note that the dead of winter is the dead of winter. No matter what, at least in Seattle, it's gunna suck. Remember the fall months and the spring months on either side. And remember that you are leaving the country in two months so it doesn't even really matter. (Oh, yeah, um, I'm going to Italy in March... I guess I'll talk about that later... Since you probably didn't know that.)
The Christian G.O.D: Gottabe Old Dude
I was at an open mic and two poets referred to God as a her. I think it was some sort of modern interpretation of God as mother(Earth) or perhaps it was a feminist gesture saying, why the hell couldn't it be a fucking woman God anyway?! In any case it seemed a little overdone. If not overdone, definitely not original. Making God a female didn't make the poem more powerful or anything, which is why it was brought to my attention, and not in a good way. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for women as deities. That's not my issue.
My issue is, in a Christian context, I can feel the masculinity in the representation of God. God was written as a male by our beloved Bible authors and that's the plain historical truth. Jesus is the son of a male God. Christians worship a male God and if they don't buy into that historically significant fact, they might want to consider a different faith.
Gender neutral faith is great, and if it's about spirituality or, heaven help us, the truth then I think it's safe to say that it's just as likely for God to be a woman as for God to be a man. And in my opinion, it's probably even more likely that God would be ungendered, given that God is an individual representing the holiness of both men and women. How could God represent men if God is a woman and visa versa. And that's assuming there is only one God. If there are more then its probably split 50-50 or maybe it's the same ratio as women to men on Earth (in which case more women dieties).
If you are a Christian though, if you read the Bible or go to church, it becomes hard to argue that God is a woman. What woman in power is going to ostracize her sassy gay friends, for example?! (Okay, maybe not the most serious example but you get it...) The best argument I can give is that a She-God isn't going to belittle women. The Christian doctrine, like it or not, is misogynistic.
So don't tell me your God is a woman. He's an old white male, an angry man with biases and presumptions that don't a female dispostion.
My issue is, in a Christian context, I can feel the masculinity in the representation of God. God was written as a male by our beloved Bible authors and that's the plain historical truth. Jesus is the son of a male God. Christians worship a male God and if they don't buy into that historically significant fact, they might want to consider a different faith.
Gender neutral faith is great, and if it's about spirituality or, heaven help us, the truth then I think it's safe to say that it's just as likely for God to be a woman as for God to be a man. And in my opinion, it's probably even more likely that God would be ungendered, given that God is an individual representing the holiness of both men and women. How could God represent men if God is a woman and visa versa. And that's assuming there is only one God. If there are more then its probably split 50-50 or maybe it's the same ratio as women to men on Earth (in which case more women dieties).
If you are a Christian though, if you read the Bible or go to church, it becomes hard to argue that God is a woman. What woman in power is going to ostracize her sassy gay friends, for example?! (Okay, maybe not the most serious example but you get it...) The best argument I can give is that a She-God isn't going to belittle women. The Christian doctrine, like it or not, is misogynistic.
So don't tell me your God is a woman. He's an old white male, an angry man with biases and presumptions that don't a female dispostion.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Bus Man
I know. I just wrote about how women are high maintenance and how men (and women) should give them a break, and I hate to sound like a harpy but I had a moment at a bus stop that I had to share with y'all.
It all started innocently enough; I walked up to the bus stop a couple nights ago after hanging out with some friends. There were only two people at the stop, a man and a woman. The woman was short and kind of stubby, with curly hair cut straight at mid-neck; puffy. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with a hood. The man was tall but had posture, hunched against the wind, or more likely, against God's desire for him to tower over everyone. He had black hair and black jeans and a oddly pointy black beard that wiggled up and down when he talked and that he stroked occasionally. They clearly new each other because they were in the middle of the kind of conversation you have just met someone.
When I strolled up they were in the midst of talking about his sick dad. Well HE was talking about his sick father. Every once in a while she tossed in a "yeah" or a "right". This man had a talent for transitions because by the time that I had settled on the bus stop bench he was talking about having kids. He used the transition, "I just want my kids to know their grandfather". "Right" says the woman. "But I'm not ready for kids. I feel like I should do it soon so he can see them".
Stop, I thought. He glanced over at me conveniently and I took the time to think at him, if you're not ready don't do it. It's not like they are going to remember that their grandpa lived until they were two anyway. I hoped maybe he was psychic and had heard me plead for him to not rush into a 50-odd year commitment.
But I'm getting off topic. What I really came here to talk about is what he said next. He was yammering on and I was letting his words float in an out of my consciousness until he said, "Women always want to know what my plan is for the future." He continued, talking about living in the moment, being spontaneous, etc.
That is so cliche. And the worst part is that he actually thought he was being original. He was spouting things like a newly discovered geyser. But these weren't new thoughts. And the more I thought about it the more I disagreed with them altogether.
Women don't want a plan. They want action. We don't need to know what's going to happen a year from now. Or ten or twenty years from now. As long as we know that today something is happening, we are happy.
Women are impatient creatures. If we see a stalled man, or potentially stalled, we want to know what they are doing. It might seem like we are asking for a plan but that's not true. If you sit on your ass we will wonder, obviously. But if you are busying yourself with work, or school, or travel, or extreme sports, we will leave you the fuck alone. As long as you are doing something now, we don't care what you're doing in five years.
I guess that was a big lead up to a simple thought but there you have it.
It all started innocently enough; I walked up to the bus stop a couple nights ago after hanging out with some friends. There were only two people at the stop, a man and a woman. The woman was short and kind of stubby, with curly hair cut straight at mid-neck; puffy. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with a hood. The man was tall but had posture, hunched against the wind, or more likely, against God's desire for him to tower over everyone. He had black hair and black jeans and a oddly pointy black beard that wiggled up and down when he talked and that he stroked occasionally. They clearly new each other because they were in the middle of the kind of conversation you have just met someone.
When I strolled up they were in the midst of talking about his sick dad. Well HE was talking about his sick father. Every once in a while she tossed in a "yeah" or a "right". This man had a talent for transitions because by the time that I had settled on the bus stop bench he was talking about having kids. He used the transition, "I just want my kids to know their grandfather". "Right" says the woman. "But I'm not ready for kids. I feel like I should do it soon so he can see them".
Stop, I thought. He glanced over at me conveniently and I took the time to think at him, if you're not ready don't do it. It's not like they are going to remember that their grandpa lived until they were two anyway. I hoped maybe he was psychic and had heard me plead for him to not rush into a 50-odd year commitment.
But I'm getting off topic. What I really came here to talk about is what he said next. He was yammering on and I was letting his words float in an out of my consciousness until he said, "Women always want to know what my plan is for the future." He continued, talking about living in the moment, being spontaneous, etc.
That is so cliche. And the worst part is that he actually thought he was being original. He was spouting things like a newly discovered geyser. But these weren't new thoughts. And the more I thought about it the more I disagreed with them altogether.
Women don't want a plan. They want action. We don't need to know what's going to happen a year from now. Or ten or twenty years from now. As long as we know that today something is happening, we are happy.
Women are impatient creatures. If we see a stalled man, or potentially stalled, we want to know what they are doing. It might seem like we are asking for a plan but that's not true. If you sit on your ass we will wonder, obviously. But if you are busying yourself with work, or school, or travel, or extreme sports, we will leave you the fuck alone. As long as you are doing something now, we don't care what you're doing in five years.
I guess that was a big lead up to a simple thought but there you have it.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
2x Decades
I'm twenty now. It's nice. Not much else to report. Got some more stuff in the mix coming at you soon though. Watch out.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
High Maintenance
Men always complain that women are high maintenance. They act like they are the only people in the world who recognize this. But what they don't understand is that women ALSO always complain that women are high maintenance. Seriously. We hate how high maintenance we are. And you know why we are high maintenance? Because it's fucking hard to be a woman, both physically and psychologically.
I spend a huge portion of my day being high maintenance. Self-improvement and/or up-keep is the most common. Do you realize how many hours I spend plucking, shaving, brushing, moisturizing, adjusting, covering, filing, painting, exfoliating, primping, and just generally FIXing in a given week? In a given month? I checked my bank statement last month and had spent more money at the drug store than I had at the grocery store.
Women are needy in this department. Last time I checked a man was considered sexy with a five o'clock shadow. But if I forget to shave before going out in a dress the excess spikey-ness is... well it's not considered sexy...
Women are expected to be smooth and clean and sweet-smelling and it's assumed that it's just a natural part of being a woman. But my eyebrows don't naturally look elegant and arching. When left to their own devices they look a bit like they are trying to take over the world ("Zeus eyebrows", I've been told). And the good-smelling rumor is THE worst. The worst BO I have ever been exposed to were from women. Women don't do that sweaty-sexy stud thing. We do the limp hair, racoon-eye-runny-make-up, and oddly onion gross thing. If I wake up at 7AM (which I now due Mon-Thurs for school), by four I need a shower, new make-up, and a comb.
Another part of what makes us high maintenance is our obsession with having an "identity". Whether it is "modern", "traditional", "feminine", "girly", "butch", "sporty", "straight", "queer", "straight-edge", "sweet", "sexy", "strong", etc. We love categorizing ourselves and we love categorizing each other.
And, yea, men have to grapple with similar identity issues and I don't want to belittle them but I am arguing that women have become obsessed with maintaining a desired "identity". The perfect example of this is The Spice Girls. As far as I know there is no Spice Boys (although I would not be opposed). Each Spice Girl had a well manicured, identifiable, separate "identity". They acted within the range of there "identity" and they couldn't act outside of that for fear of muddling what they wanted to be--Posh, Sporty, or SCARY (don't get me started).
Women spend a lot of time thinking about what identity they are projecting. That why whenever you try on clothes with friends they comment by saying "that makes you look slutty/trashy/classy/pretty/sexy/butch/feminine/etc". Rarely do I get a simple good or bad, and if I do my immediate reaction is the person isn't really trying. "But do I look slutty/trashy/classy/pretty/sexy/butch/feminine/etc enough?"
This can get very tricky and high maintenance, especially when the variables are increased. The more people involved the more obsessed we become. If I want to have the "identity" of... Classy with a few friends at my dorm room I'll slap on a skirt and mascara, I'll cover my mouth when I yawn, I'll sit up straight, I'll try to tone down the swearing. But if I'm going out to dinner with my boyfriend and I KNOW lots people will see me in the fancy restaurant he is taking me to, I'm going full dress, heels, lipstick, bronzer, I'm sipping wine and sticking my pinkies out everywhere, I'm speaking about golf or country clubs and I'm laughing daintily.
It also gets complicated when there are higher stakes for identities to be developed and produced. If I need to be... Funny with my little cousin I probably can resort to peekaboo and sponge bob impressions. If I need to be funny as the MC at open mics I need to pump up the volume a little.
It's hard to wake up as say, well what should I be today? In class: in history I'm argumentative, in Italian I'm shy, in sociology I'm inquisitive. With friends I vary from funny, to intellectual, to relaxed, to feminine... I'm always moving from one variation to the next but nothing is accidental. I calculate every interaction and it is High Maintenance!
So if you're a man complaining about a woman or a woman complaining about a woman (or yourself), know that it is a physical and psychological predisposition. And give us a break.
I spend a huge portion of my day being high maintenance. Self-improvement and/or up-keep is the most common. Do you realize how many hours I spend plucking, shaving, brushing, moisturizing, adjusting, covering, filing, painting, exfoliating, primping, and just generally FIXing in a given week? In a given month? I checked my bank statement last month and had spent more money at the drug store than I had at the grocery store.
Women are needy in this department. Last time I checked a man was considered sexy with a five o'clock shadow. But if I forget to shave before going out in a dress the excess spikey-ness is... well it's not considered sexy...
Women are expected to be smooth and clean and sweet-smelling and it's assumed that it's just a natural part of being a woman. But my eyebrows don't naturally look elegant and arching. When left to their own devices they look a bit like they are trying to take over the world ("Zeus eyebrows", I've been told). And the good-smelling rumor is THE worst. The worst BO I have ever been exposed to were from women. Women don't do that sweaty-sexy stud thing. We do the limp hair, racoon-eye-runny-make-up, and oddly onion gross thing. If I wake up at 7AM (which I now due Mon-Thurs for school), by four I need a shower, new make-up, and a comb.
Another part of what makes us high maintenance is our obsession with having an "identity". Whether it is "modern", "traditional", "feminine", "girly", "butch", "sporty", "straight", "queer", "straight-edge", "sweet", "sexy", "strong", etc. We love categorizing ourselves and we love categorizing each other.
And, yea, men have to grapple with similar identity issues and I don't want to belittle them but I am arguing that women have become obsessed with maintaining a desired "identity". The perfect example of this is The Spice Girls. As far as I know there is no Spice Boys (although I would not be opposed). Each Spice Girl had a well manicured, identifiable, separate "identity". They acted within the range of there "identity" and they couldn't act outside of that for fear of muddling what they wanted to be--Posh, Sporty, or SCARY (don't get me started).
Women spend a lot of time thinking about what identity they are projecting. That why whenever you try on clothes with friends they comment by saying "that makes you look slutty/trashy/classy/pretty/sexy/butch/feminine/etc". Rarely do I get a simple good or bad, and if I do my immediate reaction is the person isn't really trying. "But do I look slutty/trashy/classy/pretty/sexy/butch/feminine/etc enough?"
This can get very tricky and high maintenance, especially when the variables are increased. The more people involved the more obsessed we become. If I want to have the "identity" of... Classy with a few friends at my dorm room I'll slap on a skirt and mascara, I'll cover my mouth when I yawn, I'll sit up straight, I'll try to tone down the swearing. But if I'm going out to dinner with my boyfriend and I KNOW lots people will see me in the fancy restaurant he is taking me to, I'm going full dress, heels, lipstick, bronzer, I'm sipping wine and sticking my pinkies out everywhere, I'm speaking about golf or country clubs and I'm laughing daintily.
It also gets complicated when there are higher stakes for identities to be developed and produced. If I need to be... Funny with my little cousin I probably can resort to peekaboo and sponge bob impressions. If I need to be funny as the MC at open mics I need to pump up the volume a little.
It's hard to wake up as say, well what should I be today? In class: in history I'm argumentative, in Italian I'm shy, in sociology I'm inquisitive. With friends I vary from funny, to intellectual, to relaxed, to feminine... I'm always moving from one variation to the next but nothing is accidental. I calculate every interaction and it is High Maintenance!
So if you're a man complaining about a woman or a woman complaining about a woman (or yourself), know that it is a physical and psychological predisposition. And give us a break.
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