I think I started playing Age of Mythology when my mother bought for me during my homeschool years, in order to help me learn about the ancient cultures (or more accurately, to help me be more enthusiastic about learning). The help in learning about mythology was really unnecessary for me, but I loved the game. I used to spend hours playing it. My dad even bought me the expansion - The Titans. My favorite civilization is the Atlanteans, but before the expansion pack, it was the Greeks. The Greeks have the easiest time gaining favor. The Norseman have such a hard time of pleasing their gods, I almost never play as them. Of course, as the Atlanteans, I love that I never have to build drop sites.
Lately I've also spent a lot of time researching mythology - dragon mythology. I'm planning my second tattoo (so soon, and I haven't even got the first one yet, I know), and I can't decide what type of dragon I want. I was thinking a wyvern, wings hunches around it's long, stretched-out body, head reared, in a tribal-reminiscent pattern, and then later I could add a tribal armband around near the wings. I want my mother (she's an artist) to design it for me, but I don't think she will. She told me she would when I asked her. I was surprised that she agreed so readily, but then when she didn't do anything, I grew suspicious and asked her when she would do it. She said "I don't know." When I probed further, she did admit that she would not do it before I move away to college. Basically, that's her way of stalling me. She doesn't want me to get any tattoos, and she certainly doesn't want to design any of them for me.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Another Snare
Sometimes, late at night, I like to visit here and read my old posts. Some of the things I wrote about myself have changed, and I smile at the things I used to like. Other posts make me remember pieces of myself that I had forgotten. I have wise moments, sometimes, and some of them are recorded here.
Some important ones I wish I could remember:
-I need to worry less, decensor myself more, and live more freely
-I don't have a "soul"
-I don't believe in love, and I don't mind not believing in love
-All thing deteriorate over time.
-Destruction is not always a bad thing. Sometimes it means the start of something new.
I should remember these, but I'm caught in a spiral. It's a spiral of traps. See, I had hopes of living more freely once I moved away from my parents, but now I'm going to college 15 minutes away from my grandparents. Everyday I don't have school I spend at my grandparents. They're even worse than my parents. My grandmother is more conservative, more opinionated, more anti-gay, and just MORE. I'm regressing and I don't know how I ended up like this. Or how I get out.
I'm thinking of transferring to another college, either where Leanne goes or Hayley. My friends. My wonderful, liberal, open-minded, and ACCEPTING friends. I miss their wisdom and their humor.
Some important ones I wish I could remember:
-I need to worry less, decensor myself more, and live more freely
-I don't have a "soul"
-I don't believe in love, and I don't mind not believing in love
-All thing deteriorate over time.
-Destruction is not always a bad thing. Sometimes it means the start of something new.
I should remember these, but I'm caught in a spiral. It's a spiral of traps. See, I had hopes of living more freely once I moved away from my parents, but now I'm going to college 15 minutes away from my grandparents. Everyday I don't have school I spend at my grandparents. They're even worse than my parents. My grandmother is more conservative, more opinionated, more anti-gay, and just MORE. I'm regressing and I don't know how I ended up like this. Or how I get out.
I'm thinking of transferring to another college, either where Leanne goes or Hayley. My friends. My wonderful, liberal, open-minded, and ACCEPTING friends. I miss their wisdom and their humor.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Tattoo Update
I was looking back over old posts, and I realized I haven't blogged about my tattoo plans for a while. Since then, my plans have become a little more concrete, so I thought I'd go over them again.
First of all, I wrote that I wanted to end up with a tribal piece on one upper arm and kanji on the other. I've decided against the kanji - I've read too much about people who were tattooed with words that didn't mean what they thought they meant, and I certainly don't read Japanese myself. I told myself I would get kanji if I could learn to read Japanese, but I don't think that's going to happen. Instead, I came up with another beautiful design: a thin tribal spiral, reminiscent of DNA, surrounded by a wider spiral and swirling dots, meant to be cosmically reminiscent, and butterflies fluttering around the whole thing, to represent metamorphosis, fragility, and the cycle of life. Altogether, the whole thing symbolizes the unity of the universe for me. I've been working on the design for months, perfecting it, and I've picked the left arm for it.
On the other arm, I have indeed decided on a tribal piece, as I wrote before; but more specifically, on a tribal wyvern that I want my mother to design. I don't know if I can get her to do it. A wyvern is a cousin of the dragon; dragons have four legs and two wings, wyverns have two legs, and their wings are clawed and derived from their forelimbs (like the wings of bats are). I chose a wyvern partly because I like their shape more for a tattoo, and partly because my dad always liked to say his sign was the dragon, and I sort of think of him like that. I guess I think that would make me a wyvern somehow. Both creatures represent strength, ferocity, independence, and cunning. This tattoo will be on my upper right arm.
The symbolism of these two arm tattoos must seem to be somewhat at odds, but the way I see it, the former is endowed with feminine energy and the latter with masculine energy, so I think they balance each other out perfectly in a yin-yang way. I've even chosen which arms they go on with this system; I associate the left side with a more creative path and the right with a more analytical one. They do say that left-handed people are supposed to be more creative, and right-handed ones more analytical.
On my back, I am still planning wings with the phrase "contra mundum". Before, I wrote that I wanted "abstract" wings; I'm not sure what I meant by abstract, but probably not what I want anymore. I'm not entirely sure what kind of wings I want, but I'm thinking I want fey-esque wings, tri-sectioned, laying at rest, black, somewhat ragged, with skulls subtly blended in as pale spots. I thought I was unsure, but after typing all that detail, it just became apparent to me that I'm pretty sure what I want. Anywhoodle. I want fey wings because they are neutral - they do not represent either good or evil, as almost any other type of wing does. I want them tri-sectioned because traditionally three pairs of wings represent glory, honor, and dignity (and I also don't want to look too much like a butterfly). The raggedness and subtle skulls are to counteract the "sweetness" of the fey wings, because things that seem sweet and innocent are not always so. Sometimes they are jaded and worn down, but strong. And I want them black just because I love black.
Onward, to the phrase "contra mundum". I'm going to have this phrase tattooed vertically down the back of my neck, downward until it meets the wings. It is Latin, meaning "against society" "against the world" or "against everybody". I've also seen "against all organized beliefs". I know it's not my native language, but I've decided I want it anyway. It's a simple phrase, and I've never heard of any confusion about its meaning, and all the sources I've found agree on its interpretation. I know it could be interpreted negatively - people might think I hate everybody - but to me it's always stood for a certain independence of thought. That's why I'm pairing it with the wings to represent my independent spirit and mental androgyny. I bring mental androgyny into this to tie it to the two previous tattoos and their meanings. I said that one was feminine and the other masculine, so it makes sense that the one in the middle would be neutral. The one in the middle is where the yin-yang occurs, the plan where the anima and the animus are perfectly balanced. All in all, the first tattoo is my body/heart, the second one is my mind, and the third one is my spirit.
As you can see, I've put a lot of thought into this, and there's a complete system of personal symbolism involved in these tattoos, and if I ever make any changes in my plans, I will definitely incorporate more symbolism.
First of all, I wrote that I wanted to end up with a tribal piece on one upper arm and kanji on the other. I've decided against the kanji - I've read too much about people who were tattooed with words that didn't mean what they thought they meant, and I certainly don't read Japanese myself. I told myself I would get kanji if I could learn to read Japanese, but I don't think that's going to happen. Instead, I came up with another beautiful design: a thin tribal spiral, reminiscent of DNA, surrounded by a wider spiral and swirling dots, meant to be cosmically reminiscent, and butterflies fluttering around the whole thing, to represent metamorphosis, fragility, and the cycle of life. Altogether, the whole thing symbolizes the unity of the universe for me. I've been working on the design for months, perfecting it, and I've picked the left arm for it.
On the other arm, I have indeed decided on a tribal piece, as I wrote before; but more specifically, on a tribal wyvern that I want my mother to design. I don't know if I can get her to do it. A wyvern is a cousin of the dragon; dragons have four legs and two wings, wyverns have two legs, and their wings are clawed and derived from their forelimbs (like the wings of bats are). I chose a wyvern partly because I like their shape more for a tattoo, and partly because my dad always liked to say his sign was the dragon, and I sort of think of him like that. I guess I think that would make me a wyvern somehow. Both creatures represent strength, ferocity, independence, and cunning. This tattoo will be on my upper right arm.
The symbolism of these two arm tattoos must seem to be somewhat at odds, but the way I see it, the former is endowed with feminine energy and the latter with masculine energy, so I think they balance each other out perfectly in a yin-yang way. I've even chosen which arms they go on with this system; I associate the left side with a more creative path and the right with a more analytical one. They do say that left-handed people are supposed to be more creative, and right-handed ones more analytical.
On my back, I am still planning wings with the phrase "contra mundum". Before, I wrote that I wanted "abstract" wings; I'm not sure what I meant by abstract, but probably not what I want anymore. I'm not entirely sure what kind of wings I want, but I'm thinking I want fey-esque wings, tri-sectioned, laying at rest, black, somewhat ragged, with skulls subtly blended in as pale spots. I thought I was unsure, but after typing all that detail, it just became apparent to me that I'm pretty sure what I want. Anywhoodle. I want fey wings because they are neutral - they do not represent either good or evil, as almost any other type of wing does. I want them tri-sectioned because traditionally three pairs of wings represent glory, honor, and dignity (and I also don't want to look too much like a butterfly). The raggedness and subtle skulls are to counteract the "sweetness" of the fey wings, because things that seem sweet and innocent are not always so. Sometimes they are jaded and worn down, but strong. And I want them black just because I love black.
Onward, to the phrase "contra mundum". I'm going to have this phrase tattooed vertically down the back of my neck, downward until it meets the wings. It is Latin, meaning "against society" "against the world" or "against everybody". I've also seen "against all organized beliefs". I know it's not my native language, but I've decided I want it anyway. It's a simple phrase, and I've never heard of any confusion about its meaning, and all the sources I've found agree on its interpretation. I know it could be interpreted negatively - people might think I hate everybody - but to me it's always stood for a certain independence of thought. That's why I'm pairing it with the wings to represent my independent spirit and mental androgyny. I bring mental androgyny into this to tie it to the two previous tattoos and their meanings. I said that one was feminine and the other masculine, so it makes sense that the one in the middle would be neutral. The one in the middle is where the yin-yang occurs, the plan where the anima and the animus are perfectly balanced. All in all, the first tattoo is my body/heart, the second one is my mind, and the third one is my spirit.
As you can see, I've put a lot of thought into this, and there's a complete system of personal symbolism involved in these tattoos, and if I ever make any changes in my plans, I will definitely incorporate more symbolism.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Soren's Speech
I love Star Trek. I've probably said this before; I don't really remember, but right now it's not important. I love it because the characters are good people and funny characters who get along like a family, it's a dependable show (I don't mind predictability), and weird stuff happens. It's also got a message - not an obvious message. Most episodes are simply stories, but quite a few of them have morals or are metaphors.
I just watched one that addressed an issue that is very important to me, and I wish to everyone else as well. It's in season five, and the title of the episode is "The Outcast". Here's the story: Riker is working with a member of an androgynous race (I'll call it a "she") called Soren. She is very curious about genders, and eventually reveals that she prefers to identify as female and is attracted to Riker, but there's a problem: Among her people, the idea of gender is considered wrong. This is because her race used to have genders, but they evolved out of it. Still, sometimes there are people in her race who are born preferring one of the genders. They have to hide this preferrence all their lives, because if they are discovered, they are taken away and given treatments. During the episode, Soren is discovered and put on trial. Riker tries to save her by claiming he was the one attracted to her, but Soren tells the counsel the truth. Then she delivers a moving dialogue. I love it. It's obviously a metaphor for being gay/bi/transgender/different in any way. Here it is:
"I am tired of lies.
"I am female.
"I was born that way. I have had those feelings, those longings, all of my life. It is not unnatural. I am not sick because I feel this way. I do not need to be helped. I do not need to be cured. What I need, and what all of those who are like me need, is your understanding and your compassion.
"We have not injured you in any way, and yet we are scorned and attacked, and all because we are different. What we do is no different from what you do. We talk and laugh, we complain about work, and we wonder about growing old. We talk about our families and we worry about the future. And we cry with each other when things seem hopeless. All of the loving things that you do with each other - that is what we do. And for that we are called misfits and deviants and criminals! What right do you have to punish us? What right do you have to change us? What makes you think you can dictate how people love each other?"
I strongly suggest you watch the episode, if not just for the message, then to find out what happened afterwards.
I just watched one that addressed an issue that is very important to me, and I wish to everyone else as well. It's in season five, and the title of the episode is "The Outcast". Here's the story: Riker is working with a member of an androgynous race (I'll call it a "she") called Soren. She is very curious about genders, and eventually reveals that she prefers to identify as female and is attracted to Riker, but there's a problem: Among her people, the idea of gender is considered wrong. This is because her race used to have genders, but they evolved out of it. Still, sometimes there are people in her race who are born preferring one of the genders. They have to hide this preferrence all their lives, because if they are discovered, they are taken away and given treatments. During the episode, Soren is discovered and put on trial. Riker tries to save her by claiming he was the one attracted to her, but Soren tells the counsel the truth. Then she delivers a moving dialogue. I love it. It's obviously a metaphor for being gay/bi/transgender/different in any way. Here it is:
"I am tired of lies.
"I am female.
"I was born that way. I have had those feelings, those longings, all of my life. It is not unnatural. I am not sick because I feel this way. I do not need to be helped. I do not need to be cured. What I need, and what all of those who are like me need, is your understanding and your compassion.
"We have not injured you in any way, and yet we are scorned and attacked, and all because we are different. What we do is no different from what you do. We talk and laugh, we complain about work, and we wonder about growing old. We talk about our families and we worry about the future. And we cry with each other when things seem hopeless. All of the loving things that you do with each other - that is what we do. And for that we are called misfits and deviants and criminals! What right do you have to punish us? What right do you have to change us? What makes you think you can dictate how people love each other?"
I strongly suggest you watch the episode, if not just for the message, then to find out what happened afterwards.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
What is the Question?
Every person's path in life is defined by a question that they have. They spend their lives seeking the answer to this question, and through the search, define their lives. Great artists live seeking the answer to "what is art?" Great musicians ask "what is music?" Novelists want to know what a novel is. Poets ask the identity of a poem.
I ask for identity. I want to know who I am. I want to know who we are as humans. I aim to see the core in each and every individual, and it frustrates me that so many people hide their core selves. I don't know what this makes me besides perplexed.
I ask for identity. I want to know who I am. I want to know who we are as humans. I aim to see the core in each and every individual, and it frustrates me that so many people hide their core selves. I don't know what this makes me besides perplexed.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Fish on a Hook
14 September 2011. This is a day to remember. This is the day I GOT MY LIP PIERCED!!!!
I have of course been wanting a lip piercing for a few years, ever since I was fifteen. Maybe sixteen. Since I turned eighteen I've beel legally able to get one without my parents, and since I still wanted one, I figured I'd wanted one long enough that I wasn't going to regret it. It wasn't a rash decision.
So I started looking for places to get it done in Peoria. My problem was transportation. I don't have a car, and I don't know anyone nearby with one that I would want to go with me. There weren't many tattoo parlors within walking distance, and the city bus didn't got near any of them either. I also wanted to find one with good ratings. In the end, I probably wasn't as careful choosing one as I should have been.
I called a small tattoo parlor two streets over, purely because it was within easy walking distance. I'd researched it, and it didn't have any ratings and appeared to be a new shop. So anyway, I called, They guy on the phone was friendly and very willing to answer my questions (unlike that guy from that other place...) so I went over and looked at the shop.
It was small, largely undecorated, and had crappy carpet. There were only two people in there, and they both worked there. Lip piercing was only $30, which was a bit of a red flag, since, as a general rule, you get what you pay for in this industry. Still, I'd been wanting a lip piercing for a long time, and this was the only shop nearby. I told them I wanted my lip pierced and he said the piercer wasn't there at the moment, as he had a family emergency. I made an appointment (although they take walk-ins) for the following day.
The following day I went over. There were more people there this time: a guy at the counter, two in the back room (one was my piercer, one was a tattoo artist), a guy discussing a tattoo he wanted, and another guy who was getting a tattoo. I did the paperwork, proved I was old enough, and then went into the back room.
It was a pretty quick procedure. I think I was expecting it to take more time. He put a dot on my lower lip with a sharpie, we made sure it was centered and where I wanted it, and then I sat down on a chair. He pulled out the needle and the clamp and asked me if I was ready.
I'd been doing fine up until this point. Really. I was like "oh yes, I'm such a bamf, I'm getting my lip pierced all on my own and I'm not even nervous, sunshine and daisies, lalala..." But when he pulled out the needle I suddenly inhaled like a vaccuum and said, "um...can you give me a moment? I'm freaking out." He reassured me that I could take all the time I needed and told me it hurts a shitload. Oddly, that was more reassuring than if he had told me it doesn't hurt that much. When people say it doesn't hurt that much, I always think they're downplaying it. Anyway, while I was working on not freaking out, I asked him a few questions, and then I was ready.
I needn't have freaked out. It just felt like my lip was being pinched. I can't even remember if it hurt or not - I think it did for a second, but it was so trivial that now I can't really remember. I mean, I remember thinking that there was pain, but I don't remember feeling pain. He put the clamp on my lip, pushed the needle through (I confess...I had my eyes closed during this part), and then he worked the hoop through the hole.
So then I had a hoop in my lip, but he still needed to put the bead on it. This was the hard part. He spent several minutes tugging at my lip trying to get the bead on the hoop. He couldn't. He had the other guy try, the tattoo artist, and he couldn't get it either, so then he asked the guy at the front counter and he put it on in like, two seconds. Even while they were tugging at my lip, it didn't really hurt. The piercer wiped the marker of my lip, made me use mouthwash, and then I went up front and paid. And then I walked out feeling like a bamf. I went to CVS feeling like a bamf. And then I came back to my dorm feeling like a bamf.
Altogether, it was a good experience. I'm really happy with my piercing. It bled a little bit at first, but now you can't even tell it's fresh. There's no swelling, bleeding, crusting, or bruising. I give the shop 4 stars out of five.
My piercing is still healing. I'll come back later and add updates to this post as it heals up.
Update: Day Four - the skin around the piercing is a little swollen and pinkish. It still doesn't hurt, it's only a little sore when I try to eat something like a bagel, where I have to bite down on it.
I have of course been wanting a lip piercing for a few years, ever since I was fifteen. Maybe sixteen. Since I turned eighteen I've beel legally able to get one without my parents, and since I still wanted one, I figured I'd wanted one long enough that I wasn't going to regret it. It wasn't a rash decision.
So I started looking for places to get it done in Peoria. My problem was transportation. I don't have a car, and I don't know anyone nearby with one that I would want to go with me. There weren't many tattoo parlors within walking distance, and the city bus didn't got near any of them either. I also wanted to find one with good ratings. In the end, I probably wasn't as careful choosing one as I should have been.
I called a small tattoo parlor two streets over, purely because it was within easy walking distance. I'd researched it, and it didn't have any ratings and appeared to be a new shop. So anyway, I called, They guy on the phone was friendly and very willing to answer my questions (unlike that guy from that other place...) so I went over and looked at the shop.
It was small, largely undecorated, and had crappy carpet. There were only two people in there, and they both worked there. Lip piercing was only $30, which was a bit of a red flag, since, as a general rule, you get what you pay for in this industry. Still, I'd been wanting a lip piercing for a long time, and this was the only shop nearby. I told them I wanted my lip pierced and he said the piercer wasn't there at the moment, as he had a family emergency. I made an appointment (although they take walk-ins) for the following day.
The following day I went over. There were more people there this time: a guy at the counter, two in the back room (one was my piercer, one was a tattoo artist), a guy discussing a tattoo he wanted, and another guy who was getting a tattoo. I did the paperwork, proved I was old enough, and then went into the back room.
It was a pretty quick procedure. I think I was expecting it to take more time. He put a dot on my lower lip with a sharpie, we made sure it was centered and where I wanted it, and then I sat down on a chair. He pulled out the needle and the clamp and asked me if I was ready.
I'd been doing fine up until this point. Really. I was like "oh yes, I'm such a bamf, I'm getting my lip pierced all on my own and I'm not even nervous, sunshine and daisies, lalala..." But when he pulled out the needle I suddenly inhaled like a vaccuum and said, "um...can you give me a moment? I'm freaking out." He reassured me that I could take all the time I needed and told me it hurts a shitload. Oddly, that was more reassuring than if he had told me it doesn't hurt that much. When people say it doesn't hurt that much, I always think they're downplaying it. Anyway, while I was working on not freaking out, I asked him a few questions, and then I was ready.
I needn't have freaked out. It just felt like my lip was being pinched. I can't even remember if it hurt or not - I think it did for a second, but it was so trivial that now I can't really remember. I mean, I remember thinking that there was pain, but I don't remember feeling pain. He put the clamp on my lip, pushed the needle through (I confess...I had my eyes closed during this part), and then he worked the hoop through the hole.
So then I had a hoop in my lip, but he still needed to put the bead on it. This was the hard part. He spent several minutes tugging at my lip trying to get the bead on the hoop. He couldn't. He had the other guy try, the tattoo artist, and he couldn't get it either, so then he asked the guy at the front counter and he put it on in like, two seconds. Even while they were tugging at my lip, it didn't really hurt. The piercer wiped the marker of my lip, made me use mouthwash, and then I went up front and paid. And then I walked out feeling like a bamf. I went to CVS feeling like a bamf. And then I came back to my dorm feeling like a bamf.
Altogether, it was a good experience. I'm really happy with my piercing. It bled a little bit at first, but now you can't even tell it's fresh. There's no swelling, bleeding, crusting, or bruising. I give the shop 4 stars out of five.
My piercing is still healing. I'll come back later and add updates to this post as it heals up.
Update: Day Four - the skin around the piercing is a little swollen and pinkish. It still doesn't hurt, it's only a little sore when I try to eat something like a bagel, where I have to bite down on it.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
I've Got a Few Wires Loose
Dry, somber brown leaf
Trapped on the branch alone
Why do you not change your colors?
How do you bear watching your peers
as they shed their old selves to take on the new;
as they go on with the flow of life
ever changing?
It's been a while since I did anything social with somebody who was not "like me". In other words, I haven't hung out with normal people for a while, and as usually happens, I have forgotten what it is like, this ebb and flow of energy that they are constantly experiencing. How do they handle it? I just can't. I can't fit in with them. Their so-loud music grates on my ears; their unwillingness to think about the future even a moment sets me on edge; their repetative humor and inside jokes confuse me; the way they nudge each other and give each other facial expressions leaves me completely lost and muddled in the middle of conversations.
Trapped on the branch alone
Why do you not change your colors?
How do you bear watching your peers
as they shed their old selves to take on the new;
as they go on with the flow of life
ever changing?
It's been a while since I did anything social with somebody who was not "like me". In other words, I haven't hung out with normal people for a while, and as usually happens, I have forgotten what it is like, this ebb and flow of energy that they are constantly experiencing. How do they handle it? I just can't. I can't fit in with them. Their so-loud music grates on my ears; their unwillingness to think about the future even a moment sets me on edge; their repetative humor and inside jokes confuse me; the way they nudge each other and give each other facial expressions leaves me completely lost and muddled in the middle of conversations.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Through the Doors
I'm over the high school nostalgia. Way over it - didn't take me long, either. I have thrown myself into the aforementioned summer activities: cleaning out my old life, getting reading for college, and preparing to reinvent myself. This includes morning runs, not drinking soda, and making leather jewelry (I'm making a leather wrist cuff. It's gonna have gun metal studs and it's gonna be awesome). I have a new vision of myself - a lean, muscly, tattooed, and rebellious vision.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Doors
Last night, I graduated high school. I didn't attribute it much significance at the time (being more given to making snarky commentary and focusing on not messing up my salutatorian speech), but now I feel... something. I don't usually feel things, so I can't tell what it is. I can taste it though; it's bittersweet and surprising, like dark chocolate when you were expecting sugar-coated peeps. It's less colorful than I wanted. Now I have all summer to clean out my old life, get ready for college, and prepare to reinvent myself. I should be gearing up for fresh independence and power. And yet, I keep remembering all my old classmates and teachers, how much fun they all were, how accepting they all were of me as a person and a student. Also, they were quite a lot of fun.
For our senior trip, we ended having a picnic at our principle's house and playing Do You Love Your Neighbor. We sat in a big circle, and the person in the middle had to pick someone. If they loved their neighbors, the people sitting on either side of them had to switch places while the person in the middle had to try to grab one of their places. If they didn't love their neighbors, they had to love everyone with a certain trait (like wearing white socks), and everyone with that trait had to find a new spot. Of course, someone always ended up in the middle. Kathy "loved" everyone who had ever cut a class. All the students except three moved.
Last summer, three other girls and I went skinny dipping in a park at night and were caught my the sherriff. When he pulled up, we all dove underwater and hoped he wouldn't be able to see us with his headlights reflecting off the surface of the lake. The problem with being underwater is that there's no way to breathe unless you have special equipment, and we did not have special equipment. Also, it's hard to figure out what's going on when you're struggling to breathe and be underwater at the same time. Only one of us realized that the sherriff had already seen our clothes and us when we came up for air, and she was calmly pretending that we hadn't realized we weren't supposed to be here while the rest of us kept floundering around and gasping. Once the sherriff told us we needed to leave and drove away, we got out, got dressed, and walked back home. On the way home, we were pulled over and picked up by another guy in a sherriff's car. While he talked on his little radio about us (apparently the mother of the girl whose house we were staying at had called the police because we were so long gone on our "walk"), one of us suddenly whispered,"Oh crap! It's the guy from the lake." And then we all got a very awkward ride home after the sherriff casually asked us if we were the girls from the lake.
There were only thirty people in my senior class, and I've had many more adventures like this one with them (maybe not as intimate as this one, though). I may never see most of these people again. Where do I go from here? I have to make a new life for myself, starting this summer. A door has closed on my high school experience, and I can only hope a few more doors have opened that I just can't see now.
For our senior trip, we ended having a picnic at our principle's house and playing Do You Love Your Neighbor. We sat in a big circle, and the person in the middle had to pick someone. If they loved their neighbors, the people sitting on either side of them had to switch places while the person in the middle had to try to grab one of their places. If they didn't love their neighbors, they had to love everyone with a certain trait (like wearing white socks), and everyone with that trait had to find a new spot. Of course, someone always ended up in the middle. Kathy "loved" everyone who had ever cut a class. All the students except three moved.
Last summer, three other girls and I went skinny dipping in a park at night and were caught my the sherriff. When he pulled up, we all dove underwater and hoped he wouldn't be able to see us with his headlights reflecting off the surface of the lake. The problem with being underwater is that there's no way to breathe unless you have special equipment, and we did not have special equipment. Also, it's hard to figure out what's going on when you're struggling to breathe and be underwater at the same time. Only one of us realized that the sherriff had already seen our clothes and us when we came up for air, and she was calmly pretending that we hadn't realized we weren't supposed to be here while the rest of us kept floundering around and gasping. Once the sherriff told us we needed to leave and drove away, we got out, got dressed, and walked back home. On the way home, we were pulled over and picked up by another guy in a sherriff's car. While he talked on his little radio about us (apparently the mother of the girl whose house we were staying at had called the police because we were so long gone on our "walk"), one of us suddenly whispered,"Oh crap! It's the guy from the lake." And then we all got a very awkward ride home after the sherriff casually asked us if we were the girls from the lake.
There were only thirty people in my senior class, and I've had many more adventures like this one with them (maybe not as intimate as this one, though). I may never see most of these people again. Where do I go from here? I have to make a new life for myself, starting this summer. A door has closed on my high school experience, and I can only hope a few more doors have opened that I just can't see now.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Before I Go
I found this poem as I was searching my files for a school assignment. I wrote a couple years ago. I don't remember the inspiration, but I like what I wrote. I'd completely forgotten about it.
So this I know, before I go
A secret must I tell
As deadly as the drifting snow
Even if I’m damned to hell
My throbbing heart was torn from me
My hands stained bloody red
I killed he that stole it from me
And left him there for dead
And left him there for dead
My life drains in gushing rivers
My eyes are weighted low
I took the life from the giver
My soul thrums, sad and slow
His ghost came back and sang to me
And I gave him a dirge
And so we parted happily
Entwined, our souls will merge
So he with me, and I with him
A double travesty
Pliant to each and every whim
Till blood should be set free
Till blood should be set free
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Five (Not Serious) Skills Everyone Should Learn to Impress People
1. How to mix drinks - coffee drinks and alcoholic drinks. This is a skill to impress people with. And besides that, it's practical. It's much cheaper to make yourself a mocha or a daiquiri at home than it is to buy one, and you can always make sure it's made just the way you like it.
2. How to cut and dye hair. Who wants to pay $300 to get a cut and highlights at a salon? I know someone who actually paid that much once, and I don't see that it was worth it. Hair is often a much simpler entity that most people make it out to be. Cutting and dyeing it are skills that take a little bit of practice but are easy to learn and definitely worth it in the end. You don't even need that many tools. A comb, a pair of basic scissors, an old paintbrush for putting on the dye, and a few others things that you probably already have in your kitchen. You do have to buy your own hair dye, though. I got my own thinning shears, too, because I started cutting others people's hair and sometimes I need them. Now I'm starting to comtemplate buying a hair razor.
3. Card tricks. Everything from how to cut a deck with one hand, games, magic tricks, and how to do a reading for someone. This is just plain fun and good entertainment. Plus, a deck of cards is a cheap asset and easy to carry around with you. Hey, you there - care to know your future? The cards know it all. And what more fun activity could you find to do with your friends than a game of cards? Card games are great because they give you something to do while you're all chatting; in fact, they can be a source of conversation topics, and if you're betting, they provide for a little playful competition. Even in The Next Generation, many of the officers play cards (Data's learning to bluff).
4. Ambidexterity. Hey, why not? Then if you injure one hand, you've got the other one to use. Learning to do things with your non-dominant side exercises parts of your brain and strengthens neural pathways.
5. How to juggle. It's so impressive when you pick up a couple things lying around and just oh-so-casually start juggling them like you're bored. You look super talented. Learning also improves hand-eye coordination. It's a lot of fun, too, and if you're really good, you could use it to entertain as festivals and the like.
2. How to cut and dye hair. Who wants to pay $300 to get a cut and highlights at a salon? I know someone who actually paid that much once, and I don't see that it was worth it. Hair is often a much simpler entity that most people make it out to be. Cutting and dyeing it are skills that take a little bit of practice but are easy to learn and definitely worth it in the end. You don't even need that many tools. A comb, a pair of basic scissors, an old paintbrush for putting on the dye, and a few others things that you probably already have in your kitchen. You do have to buy your own hair dye, though. I got my own thinning shears, too, because I started cutting others people's hair and sometimes I need them. Now I'm starting to comtemplate buying a hair razor.
3. Card tricks. Everything from how to cut a deck with one hand, games, magic tricks, and how to do a reading for someone. This is just plain fun and good entertainment. Plus, a deck of cards is a cheap asset and easy to carry around with you. Hey, you there - care to know your future? The cards know it all. And what more fun activity could you find to do with your friends than a game of cards? Card games are great because they give you something to do while you're all chatting; in fact, they can be a source of conversation topics, and if you're betting, they provide for a little playful competition. Even in The Next Generation, many of the officers play cards (Data's learning to bluff).
4. Ambidexterity. Hey, why not? Then if you injure one hand, you've got the other one to use. Learning to do things with your non-dominant side exercises parts of your brain and strengthens neural pathways.
5. How to juggle. It's so impressive when you pick up a couple things lying around and just oh-so-casually start juggling them like you're bored. You look super talented. Learning also improves hand-eye coordination. It's a lot of fun, too, and if you're really good, you could use it to entertain as festivals and the like.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
I Kept Looking for Someone to Solve my Problem...then I Realized, I am the Problem
"I kept looking for someone to solve my problem, then I realized I am someone."
-Anonymous
I just don't understand people. I'm discovering I have asperger's syndrome, which means I can't read social cues or nonverbal signals (among other things). All three of my friends just gathered up their stuff and left the computer lab as one unit, like they'd recieve some secret message. Class isn't over, and nobody said anything, so how did they all know to go at once? And why do they need to go to the bathroom together?
I remember in a Star Trek episode, Picard proved to some aliens how advanced humans are by telling his officers to lock said aliens up without ever giving a verbal order. He just gave Riker a "look". I couldn't figure it out until Picard explained it to the aliens. The ability to communicate and understand communications nonverbally is an ability I lack.
My brain just works differently. I feel differently, think differently, act differently. A lot of what other people say doesn't make sense to me, and a lot of what I say doesn't make sense to them. I like blogging, though - it's easier to communicate through text because there's none of this nonverbal nonsense to screw up what I'm saying. People just read it and take it to mean exactly what it says (for the most part, anyway). I can verbalize effectively, but it feels very weird and kind of awkward.
-Anonymous
I just don't understand people. I'm discovering I have asperger's syndrome, which means I can't read social cues or nonverbal signals (among other things). All three of my friends just gathered up their stuff and left the computer lab as one unit, like they'd recieve some secret message. Class isn't over, and nobody said anything, so how did they all know to go at once? And why do they need to go to the bathroom together?
I remember in a Star Trek episode, Picard proved to some aliens how advanced humans are by telling his officers to lock said aliens up without ever giving a verbal order. He just gave Riker a "look". I couldn't figure it out until Picard explained it to the aliens. The ability to communicate and understand communications nonverbally is an ability I lack.
My brain just works differently. I feel differently, think differently, act differently. A lot of what other people say doesn't make sense to me, and a lot of what I say doesn't make sense to them. I like blogging, though - it's easier to communicate through text because there's none of this nonverbal nonsense to screw up what I'm saying. People just read it and take it to mean exactly what it says (for the most part, anyway). I can verbalize effectively, but it feels very weird and kind of awkward.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Cornerstones of Confidence
Realize that you are different. You come from a different place. I've never realized this before, but a lot of insecurities happen when you don't match up to others. For example, when someone is talking to you about a band that you've never heard of, and they assume you know what they're talking about and you're afraid to say you don't understand so you just sort of go along with it. Part of the social conformity theory is that people want to believe they're all from the same culture, even though they aren't. People feel cooler when they can talk about how they watched the same shows growing up. I need to know that I am from a different culture - call it a subsubsubculture. There are as many cultures as there are people, so when I don't know something, I shouldn't be ashamed to say it. There are things that are a part of my world that other people haven't even heard about before, even though to me it's very natural to know them and what they're all about. I just need to keep patience with myself and everyone else.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Honesty
Today life is about honesty. Think how much easier (well, maybe not "easier" perse) life would be if everyone was 100% honest 100% of the time with 100% of the people they knew.
My parents showed me the pilot episode for a show about a psychologist. This psychologist had an employee who was involved in this radical honesty movement - he said exactly what he was thinking when he was thinking it. He was kind of weird, but in an unexpected way, and I can only imagine how liberating it must be to not have to lie. Lucy Ricardo once took a bet to tell the absolute truth for 24 hours in an I Love Lucy episode. She also claimed to feel very liberated. In Star Trek, Spock often says that he cannot tell a lie, and Kirk convinces him that he can stretch the truth, acting as if lying was a wonderful quality of humans.
Psychology Today posted an article about people who tell the truth all the time.
So my question is, is telling the absolute truth all the time a good thing? I, admittedly a rather insensative individual, tend to think that it is. I don't particularly care about offending people. I mean, many people are offended just by the type of person I am. There are people out there who get offended by gays or by people who get offended by gays. No matter who you are, someone will be offended by who you are. So it makes sense that you shouldn't have to lie to try to protect other people. Here's my problem though: what about tactful truth-telling? Should it be okay? To a certain extent, I think it is, but I don't like it.
My parents showed me the pilot episode for a show about a psychologist. This psychologist had an employee who was involved in this radical honesty movement - he said exactly what he was thinking when he was thinking it. He was kind of weird, but in an unexpected way, and I can only imagine how liberating it must be to not have to lie. Lucy Ricardo once took a bet to tell the absolute truth for 24 hours in an I Love Lucy episode. She also claimed to feel very liberated. In Star Trek, Spock often says that he cannot tell a lie, and Kirk convinces him that he can stretch the truth, acting as if lying was a wonderful quality of humans.
Psychology Today posted an article about people who tell the truth all the time.
So my question is, is telling the absolute truth all the time a good thing? I, admittedly a rather insensative individual, tend to think that it is. I don't particularly care about offending people. I mean, many people are offended just by the type of person I am. There are people out there who get offended by gays or by people who get offended by gays. No matter who you are, someone will be offended by who you are. So it makes sense that you shouldn't have to lie to try to protect other people. Here's my problem though: what about tactful truth-telling? Should it be okay? To a certain extent, I think it is, but I don't like it.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
And the Stars shall Guide us
I never really paid attention to horoscopes. It was all fiddle-faddle and poppycock as far as I was concerned. Astrology in general was. But I recently adopted cartomancy as the next thing to teach myself, and what I read about it explained how the 52-card deck forms a natural lunar calendar. Astrology was mentioned, so I looked it up and gave it a quick read over.
It's quite interesting. I am an Aquarius. I'd never read the full-on description of an Aquarius, but I was pleasantly surprised by what I found. If you combine the profile of an Aquarian with the profile of a typical INTJ, you get me. The Aquarius part of me perfectly explains all the little quirks that didn't fit in with being just an INTJ.
Apparently, Aquarians are eccentric, quirky, independent people who march to the beat of their own drum. Most of that does fit in with being an INTJ (because INTJs are the independent), but the Aquarius profile allows me room to be more humanitarian, spontaneous, and weirdly spiritual, all things that aren't typical traits of INTJs.
It's quite interesting. I am an Aquarius. I'd never read the full-on description of an Aquarius, but I was pleasantly surprised by what I found. If you combine the profile of an Aquarian with the profile of a typical INTJ, you get me. The Aquarius part of me perfectly explains all the little quirks that didn't fit in with being just an INTJ.
Apparently, Aquarians are eccentric, quirky, independent people who march to the beat of their own drum. Most of that does fit in with being an INTJ (because INTJs are the independent), but the Aquarius profile allows me room to be more humanitarian, spontaneous, and weirdly spiritual, all things that aren't typical traits of INTJs.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Self Creating Personas
I read a lot. I keep track of the books I've read on shelfari.
I've noticed something: I am influenced by the people I read and write about. In Tithe (Holly Black), the MC Kaye doesn't like anything that's too sweet/sugary. For a few days after I read that, I didn't put any sugar in my coffee. When I created a character who loved trance music and chaos, and I felt an insatiable urge to crank up the volume and spend an entire night dancing. The next character I dreamed up had a lip ring and long blue hair. Now I have plans to get my lip pierced and dye my fringe blue (in my defense, a lip ring is something I've been wanting for a while, and I can't actually dye my fringe because I have a job).
Of course, the big one is my soul character, the Seeker. We share so much that she's pretty much a reincarnation of me. She has my hair and eyes, I'm planning tattoos similar to hers, she dresses like me, and she's quiet and thoughtful - like me. Her past and current situation, of course, were dramatized for plot, but she shares many of my fears. She also has my affinity for black chokers, although in her case, she only wears one, and it's covered in the symbols of her dead friends.
These characters are partially born of me, so it makes sense that they would influence me, too. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy: I make a character with certain tendencies of mine, and other tendencies come out of that which reflect back to me.
I've noticed something: I am influenced by the people I read and write about. In Tithe (Holly Black), the MC Kaye doesn't like anything that's too sweet/sugary. For a few days after I read that, I didn't put any sugar in my coffee. When I created a character who loved trance music and chaos, and I felt an insatiable urge to crank up the volume and spend an entire night dancing. The next character I dreamed up had a lip ring and long blue hair. Now I have plans to get my lip pierced and dye my fringe blue (in my defense, a lip ring is something I've been wanting for a while, and I can't actually dye my fringe because I have a job).
Of course, the big one is my soul character, the Seeker. We share so much that she's pretty much a reincarnation of me. She has my hair and eyes, I'm planning tattoos similar to hers, she dresses like me, and she's quiet and thoughtful - like me. Her past and current situation, of course, were dramatized for plot, but she shares many of my fears. She also has my affinity for black chokers, although in her case, she only wears one, and it's covered in the symbols of her dead friends.
These characters are partially born of me, so it makes sense that they would influence me, too. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy: I make a character with certain tendencies of mine, and other tendencies come out of that which reflect back to me.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Question Everything
Today life is about questions.
Questions are how we find out about everything and the world around us. Remember in grade school, they told you there was no such thing as a stupid question? They were (mostly) right, but I think there are good and also better questions. I have the bad habit of asking simple yes-or-no questions, and I would really like to get into the habit of asking deeper questions. For example...um...I asked if we had more oatmeal at work yesterday, and all I got was "yes". I didn't know where the oatmeal was, or how much was left. I should have asked "where is the oatmeal?" Of course, I figured it out in the end, but still. That's just an example.
Questions that can't be answered with a simple yes or no are good because they make you, the asker, look more confident and intelligent and they invite more information. Open questions invite the other person to open themselves up more with a longer explanation and share more about what they know. If you don't know what to say or do in a situation, ask a question. You should never be afraid to ask a question. Questions are the basis of communication, which in turn is the basis of all relationships.
Ask questions of yourself as well. Ask questions about your life, what you want, who you are, why you do what you do, what your goals are, etc. I have a simple motto - question everything. Sometimes you can be surprised by what you find out.
Questions are how we find out about everything and the world around us. Remember in grade school, they told you there was no such thing as a stupid question? They were (mostly) right, but I think there are good and also better questions. I have the bad habit of asking simple yes-or-no questions, and I would really like to get into the habit of asking deeper questions. For example...um...I asked if we had more oatmeal at work yesterday, and all I got was "yes". I didn't know where the oatmeal was, or how much was left. I should have asked "where is the oatmeal?" Of course, I figured it out in the end, but still. That's just an example.
Questions that can't be answered with a simple yes or no are good because they make you, the asker, look more confident and intelligent and they invite more information. Open questions invite the other person to open themselves up more with a longer explanation and share more about what they know. If you don't know what to say or do in a situation, ask a question. You should never be afraid to ask a question. Questions are the basis of communication, which in turn is the basis of all relationships.
Ask questions of yourself as well. Ask questions about your life, what you want, who you are, why you do what you do, what your goals are, etc. I have a simple motto - question everything. Sometimes you can be surprised by what you find out.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
ISTPs (from an INTJ point of view)
I believe I covered the basics of the MBTI in an earlier post - a very early post. ISTP is a type in the MBTI system.
One ISTP I think (I hope) everyone knows of is Han Solo. That should tell you a lot about the type right there. Like all SPs, they're action-oriented. They don't deal with abstract concepts or overly excessive academic ideas (I gave a friend the ISTP description to read, and after a couple sentences she declared it too academic for her), but they're very in touch with the physical world. ISTPs don't automatically give an impression of action, but if you ever hand around one, you will be able to see how much energy they have, especially mental energy.
I think ISTPs are awesome. They're cool with everything and they never seem to be taken off guard. They ask a lot of questions. Awesome people ask questions. ISTPs don't care about convention or social norms; in fact, I'm pretty sure they're not even aware of their existence. That's what makes them awesome: they can't help but be original. They're very free spirits. They're flippant about tradition and don't seem to care too much for authority (not that they buck it or anything). They live life on the edge, often pursuing hobbies that are considered dangerous, and can be attracted to activities that are, shall we say, on the verge of illegality. They're thrill seekers, the original rogues of society.
ISTPs in fiction: Han Solo, Vala Mal Doran, Indiana Jones (probably), Logan-Wolverine.
One ISTP I think (I hope) everyone knows of is Han Solo. That should tell you a lot about the type right there. Like all SPs, they're action-oriented. They don't deal with abstract concepts or overly excessive academic ideas (I gave a friend the ISTP description to read, and after a couple sentences she declared it too academic for her), but they're very in touch with the physical world. ISTPs don't automatically give an impression of action, but if you ever hand around one, you will be able to see how much energy they have, especially mental energy.
I think ISTPs are awesome. They're cool with everything and they never seem to be taken off guard. They ask a lot of questions. Awesome people ask questions. ISTPs don't care about convention or social norms; in fact, I'm pretty sure they're not even aware of their existence. That's what makes them awesome: they can't help but be original. They're very free spirits. They're flippant about tradition and don't seem to care too much for authority (not that they buck it or anything). They live life on the edge, often pursuing hobbies that are considered dangerous, and can be attracted to activities that are, shall we say, on the verge of illegality. They're thrill seekers, the original rogues of society.
ISTPs in fiction: Han Solo, Vala Mal Doran, Indiana Jones (probably), Logan-Wolverine.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Feathers
Have you seen them? Everyone's wearing them (and by everyone, I mean those people who are in the minority that have tribalistic leanings). They're feather hair extensions! My newest trend obsession.
These are great for so many reasons. For starters, they add sublte color to your hair and since they're just a trend in the eyes of some people, you can wear them to your job. They perfectly toe the line between being alternative and acceptable. They're a spunky-punky, wild-child accessory and I love them. They come in stripes, plain, natural colors, rainbow colors, short, or long. I always imagine myself wearing them while dancing around a big bonfire in a feminist ritual or something when I have long hair. I'd post pictures, but blogger doesn't do well with pictures, so here are some links to pictures.
Link 1
Link 2
Link 3
Link 4
These are great for so many reasons. For starters, they add sublte color to your hair and since they're just a trend in the eyes of some people, you can wear them to your job. They perfectly toe the line between being alternative and acceptable. They're a spunky-punky, wild-child accessory and I love them. They come in stripes, plain, natural colors, rainbow colors, short, or long. I always imagine myself wearing them while dancing around a big bonfire in a feminist ritual or something when I have long hair. I'd post pictures, but blogger doesn't do well with pictures, so here are some links to pictures.
Link 1
Link 2
Link 3
Link 4
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Change
I'm sick of myself. Do you ever get sick of yourself? Sometimes I just get tired of being me. I want to...I don't know...borrow somebody else's mind and body for a while. Just to try something new to relieve the boredom of me. I know other people don't think I'm boring (most of them, anyway), but I'm so used to me that I'm bored out of my skull. I wish to change myself. Just a few things...
I want to de-censor myself. I want to be less complex. I overthink everything, and I'd like to be a little simpler, a little more in the moment, and a little more carefree. Instead of sitting around worrying and deliberating about everything I have to do, I'd like to just do it. I don't think worrying beforehand about a task decreases the number of mistakes I make, but it does make me freak out more about the mistakes and not fix them as well. I just need to kick back a little, have some fun, get a little excited about things, and not worry so much. Great - now I'm worrying about not worrying.
I want to get into alternate spirituality. I hate having to conform to my parents' religion. There is no freedom in it. They tell that god just is the way he is and to just accept it, and they don't approve of asking questions. They tell you everything that is not christian is evil but they don't explain why. I want to be able to ask questions, and I want to be allowed to explore the darker corners of my mind. I don't want to just have to sit tight and be a good little girl and not ask questions.
I want to de-censor myself. I want to be less complex. I overthink everything, and I'd like to be a little simpler, a little more in the moment, and a little more carefree. Instead of sitting around worrying and deliberating about everything I have to do, I'd like to just do it. I don't think worrying beforehand about a task decreases the number of mistakes I make, but it does make me freak out more about the mistakes and not fix them as well. I just need to kick back a little, have some fun, get a little excited about things, and not worry so much. Great - now I'm worrying about not worrying.
I want to get into alternate spirituality. I hate having to conform to my parents' religion. There is no freedom in it. They tell that god just is the way he is and to just accept it, and they don't approve of asking questions. They tell you everything that is not christian is evil but they don't explain why. I want to be able to ask questions, and I want to be allowed to explore the darker corners of my mind. I don't want to just have to sit tight and be a good little girl and not ask questions.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
My Skin is a Canvas
I am going to get a tattoo.
There! I said it with certainty this time. Always before I have been hesitant. I have said "I was thinking about getting a tattoo when I'm eighteen" without any conviction. But now I will go through with it.
I don't know what yet, or where. I was thinking a tribal design on my upper arm. I'm thinking that I'll end up with the tribal piece on one upper arm, kanji on the other upper arm, and a pair of abstract wings on my shoulder blades along with my motto "contra mundum" (latin for against the world - portrays a sentiment of independence), all in black. I'm not one for colorful tattoos. Or colorful anything, for that matter, except hair and artwork. I so wish I had fine, white-blonde hair. But that's off topic. I was talking about tattoos.
I am fascinated by tattoos. There's just so much potential, for beauty, for symbolism, for meaning. I realize that many people have really tacky tattoos (or so it seems, sometimes), but I think there's a lot that can be done if you can find a good artist and work with your own anatomical structure. Tattoos are an art form. They can be amazing, but I think you have to be spatially aware and know where things look good.
My parents are very conventional. They disapprove of tattoos and tell me that I'm going to regret it. I disbelieve them. The rate of regret is 17% and the top reason for regretting a tattoo was that they had gotten a tattoo with someone's name and now were no longer in a relationship with them. There are plenty of people who live quite happily with their tattoos for their whole lives (and I'm not getting anyone's name tattooed on me anyway).
I've heard that you can get addicted to the needle. Once you get your first tattoo, you go back for another one, and then another, and so on. I hope I don't get addicted - but even if I did, I don't I'd go so far that I'd overdo it. I think I'd be too sensitive to that.
There! I said it with certainty this time. Always before I have been hesitant. I have said "I was thinking about getting a tattoo when I'm eighteen" without any conviction. But now I will go through with it.
I don't know what yet, or where. I was thinking a tribal design on my upper arm. I'm thinking that I'll end up with the tribal piece on one upper arm, kanji on the other upper arm, and a pair of abstract wings on my shoulder blades along with my motto "contra mundum" (latin for against the world - portrays a sentiment of independence), all in black. I'm not one for colorful tattoos. Or colorful anything, for that matter, except hair and artwork. I so wish I had fine, white-blonde hair. But that's off topic. I was talking about tattoos.
I am fascinated by tattoos. There's just so much potential, for beauty, for symbolism, for meaning. I realize that many people have really tacky tattoos (or so it seems, sometimes), but I think there's a lot that can be done if you can find a good artist and work with your own anatomical structure. Tattoos are an art form. They can be amazing, but I think you have to be spatially aware and know where things look good.
My parents are very conventional. They disapprove of tattoos and tell me that I'm going to regret it. I disbelieve them. The rate of regret is 17% and the top reason for regretting a tattoo was that they had gotten a tattoo with someone's name and now were no longer in a relationship with them. There are plenty of people who live quite happily with their tattoos for their whole lives (and I'm not getting anyone's name tattooed on me anyway).
I've heard that you can get addicted to the needle. Once you get your first tattoo, you go back for another one, and then another, and so on. I hope I don't get addicted - but even if I did, I don't I'd go so far that I'd overdo it. I think I'd be too sensitive to that.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Failing Wishes
You know what's weird? I spend all my time improving myself, reaching for perfection, and I just realized that perfect things kind of creep me out. I realized this while I was pondering what I would do if I had three wishes. One of my first thoughts was that I'd wish I had a sexier body - not a perfect body, just one that was sexier than the one I have now. I thought, "why not a perfect body? By definition, there wouldn't be anything wrong with it." And I realized that perfect bodies kind of creep me out. I don't know why. I mean, I guess it's kind of like, if your body was perfect, what reason would you have for wearing clothes? What features would you pick on when you stared in the mirror? What would you complain about at girly sleepovers? It'd be like, everybody's saying how much they hate their bodies, and you'd just be sitting there all like, "I don't have anything to say, because my body's perfect."
Wait a minute. Whoa. I think I just discovered another key facet of life.
Imperfections give life meaning. If everything was perfect, why would you be around?
I will follow that thought further in a later post (and on a side note, I think one of my other wishes would be that my hair grow much, much faster. Then I could be changing it all the time).
Wait a minute. Whoa. I think I just discovered another key facet of life.
Imperfections give life meaning. If everything was perfect, why would you be around?
I will follow that thought further in a later post (and on a side note, I think one of my other wishes would be that my hair grow much, much faster. Then I could be changing it all the time).
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Note to Self
Okay. So, normally I don't even do anything with my hair. It's pretty short, about an inch below my skull, and layered, natural color. Normally I just roll out of bed, make sure it doesn't look funny, and go through my day hoping it isn't doing anything weird (it's so thick it has a mind of its own). Today I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought, "Well. I look boring." I am so freaking bored with my hair. I want to do something with it, but I can't dye it any funky colors because I have a job, and it isn't really long enough to do anything else with.
So here's my plan. I'm gonna let it grow out about two inches and keep it layered. At two more inches, my bangs will be long enough to frame my face nicely, and my layers will be able to keep themselves weighed down (I hope). So, in about four months, my hair will almost reach to my shoulders. I'm hoping that at this length, it will not be too long that it bothers me, but it will be long enough to pull back in a few simple styles. Ponytails and pigtails always look punkier and spunkier when done with hair that is as short as possible. I'm also going to add in a few small braids, a few bleached-white tendrils, and some feathers. Yes, I did just say feathers. A girl who came into work the other day had feathers in her hair - long, really thin feathers with black stripes. I asked her about them, and she told that she gets them at fishing stores and crimps them into her hair with ordinary crimp beads. Apparently you can wash, straighten, and curl them just as if they were part of your normal hair. I thought she was awesome.
So that's my new plan for my dull hair. For now, though, I guess I'll wear hats. Nice hats. Or something.
So here's my plan. I'm gonna let it grow out about two inches and keep it layered. At two more inches, my bangs will be long enough to frame my face nicely, and my layers will be able to keep themselves weighed down (I hope). So, in about four months, my hair will almost reach to my shoulders. I'm hoping that at this length, it will not be too long that it bothers me, but it will be long enough to pull back in a few simple styles. Ponytails and pigtails always look punkier and spunkier when done with hair that is as short as possible. I'm also going to add in a few small braids, a few bleached-white tendrils, and some feathers. Yes, I did just say feathers. A girl who came into work the other day had feathers in her hair - long, really thin feathers with black stripes. I asked her about them, and she told that she gets them at fishing stores and crimps them into her hair with ordinary crimp beads. Apparently you can wash, straighten, and curl them just as if they were part of your normal hair. I thought she was awesome.
So that's my new plan for my dull hair. For now, though, I guess I'll wear hats. Nice hats. Or something.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Life Tip #1 - Listen to Fast Music
Every once in a while, I have an idea about something that I think helps life run a little more smoothly. Most of the time, I forget these before I have a chance to write about them, but when I don't, I think I'll post them. This one hasn't been forgotten, probably because it's been brewing in my mind for a little while. Luckily.
I have a station on pandora devoted to trance music. The fast beat gives me energy. I listen to it in the morning - or all day if I can - and I move around more. I also have a tendency to juggle to trance music. Fun stuff.
I had a phase a couple years ago where I listened to slow, depressing music. Mostly Evanescence, because I was a depressed little emo thing. I didn't get much exercise then. Instead I laid around and stared at the ceiling. Come to think of it, that's about I gained all my extra fat.
I have a station on pandora devoted to trance music. The fast beat gives me energy. I listen to it in the morning - or all day if I can - and I move around more. I also have a tendency to juggle to trance music. Fun stuff.
I had a phase a couple years ago where I listened to slow, depressing music. Mostly Evanescence, because I was a depressed little emo thing. I didn't get much exercise then. Instead I laid around and stared at the ceiling. Come to think of it, that's about I gained all my extra fat.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Accents
I've developed this tendency where I sort of absorb accents.
It started a few months ago in class. A couple of goofs were goofing around, talking in really bad cheesy accents and just generally propagating stereotypes. They were doing southern drawls. I turned to my friend and said, "Those are the most awful twangs I have ever heard."
Only, I said it with a twang. A genuine twang.
I was born in Texas. I lived there until I was six, which was when we moved to California. I'm told that when we moved, I had a really thick twang (at six years old) which cracked the movers up. So I have a legitimate reason if I slip back into a twang every now and then. I guess those corny clowns just set if off, even though that's never happened before. I was stuck with that twang until the end of class - nearly an hour and a half. It cracked my friend up so much. I could hardly say anything normal. Thankfully, it went away after school.
One of my favorite characters (Vala) on my favorite TV show (Stargate: SG1) has an accent, and I've always wondered what it is. I thought at first it was some kind of English accent, but when I looked it up, I read that the actress is from Australia. So I did a little research, like any good nerd, and watched a few videos on learning accents. I listened to far too many videos by a girl from Sidney and picked up her accent.
Which brings me to the point of this post. I'm stuck with an Australian accent.
Not that I mind too terribly much. I kind of like Australian accents; they're cute and they sound sort of like English accents, which are supposed to be cute, classy, and charming. At least, people always say they love English accents. But people were giving me weird looks, especially my coworkers, who don't know what's going on, which isn't surprising, since sometimes I come in speaking Californian, sometimes Texan, and now sometimes Australian.
I wonder how long I will be stuck like this. Maybe forever. I'll head merrily off to college next year, and people will say "I love your accent! Where are you from?" and I'll say "California, but I was born in Texas," and they'll say, "Oh, I didn't know people in California spoke like that," and then I'll say, "They don't. And neither do people in Texas." And so they will be confused. Confused, but charmed, because my accent is charming.
It started a few months ago in class. A couple of goofs were goofing around, talking in really bad cheesy accents and just generally propagating stereotypes. They were doing southern drawls. I turned to my friend and said, "Those are the most awful twangs I have ever heard."
Only, I said it with a twang. A genuine twang.
I was born in Texas. I lived there until I was six, which was when we moved to California. I'm told that when we moved, I had a really thick twang (at six years old) which cracked the movers up. So I have a legitimate reason if I slip back into a twang every now and then. I guess those corny clowns just set if off, even though that's never happened before. I was stuck with that twang until the end of class - nearly an hour and a half. It cracked my friend up so much. I could hardly say anything normal. Thankfully, it went away after school.
One of my favorite characters (Vala) on my favorite TV show (Stargate: SG1) has an accent, and I've always wondered what it is. I thought at first it was some kind of English accent, but when I looked it up, I read that the actress is from Australia. So I did a little research, like any good nerd, and watched a few videos on learning accents. I listened to far too many videos by a girl from Sidney and picked up her accent.
Which brings me to the point of this post. I'm stuck with an Australian accent.
Not that I mind too terribly much. I kind of like Australian accents; they're cute and they sound sort of like English accents, which are supposed to be cute, classy, and charming. At least, people always say they love English accents. But people were giving me weird looks, especially my coworkers, who don't know what's going on, which isn't surprising, since sometimes I come in speaking Californian, sometimes Texan, and now sometimes Australian.
I wonder how long I will be stuck like this. Maybe forever. I'll head merrily off to college next year, and people will say "I love your accent! Where are you from?" and I'll say "California, but I was born in Texas," and they'll say, "Oh, I didn't know people in California spoke like that," and then I'll say, "They don't. And neither do people in Texas." And so they will be confused. Confused, but charmed, because my accent is charming.
Monday, January 10, 2011
SpacePainting
I just discovered something new!
Okay, so at the fair a few years past, there was a guy doing a kind of spray painting. He would spray all these colors over a piece of (fancy) cardboard and smear them around and cover them with circles and stuff to make paintings of space. I thought it was fascintating (my sister didn't, so my dad took her to go ride rides and whatnot...I don't think he cared for it either, much). I saw a different guy doing the same thing last year in San Francisco.
I had completely forgotten about until today. One of my friends was watching a video of the same thing on youtube during class, and I was like "Oh! I love this stuff!" So I've been watching it on youtube for about an hour now. I want a set of spray paints for my birthday next month. I mean, I kind of like painting, and I love pictures of space, so I want to try it. I can totally see myself doing this in the backyard of some cramped apartment a few years from now, and they'll be all over my walls.
Because it is awesome, here's a video:
Okay, so at the fair a few years past, there was a guy doing a kind of spray painting. He would spray all these colors over a piece of (fancy) cardboard and smear them around and cover them with circles and stuff to make paintings of space. I thought it was fascintating (my sister didn't, so my dad took her to go ride rides and whatnot...I don't think he cared for it either, much). I saw a different guy doing the same thing last year in San Francisco.
I had completely forgotten about until today. One of my friends was watching a video of the same thing on youtube during class, and I was like "Oh! I love this stuff!" So I've been watching it on youtube for about an hour now. I want a set of spray paints for my birthday next month. I mean, I kind of like painting, and I love pictures of space, so I want to try it. I can totally see myself doing this in the backyard of some cramped apartment a few years from now, and they'll be all over my walls.
Because it is awesome, here's a video:
Sunday, January 2, 2011
I Don't Believe in Love
I don't believe in love.
I'm not sure exactly when I realized this. It was in the middle of the night, in the dark when I could not sleep, and the watery moonlight was reflected on my ceiling and I was running through the songs in my head. I don't know exactly why I realized it, or why I do not believe. But it seems to me that love - that thing everybody obsesses over while pretending not to - ought to be something unbreakable, unstoppable, unconditional, unchangeable. And I have never seen anything that could embody any of these characteristics.
It's true there are things that are like love. There's attachment. Affection. Companionship. Attraction. Etc. But not love. And I also realized that I really don't care. Because I don't want to love. People do stupid things in the name of love.
Maybe there is a such a thing as love, but I cannot see it, or I cannot feel it, or I cannot understand it, or it's just not what I think it should be. Maybe I have another name for it. Whatever.
I'm not sure exactly when I realized this. It was in the middle of the night, in the dark when I could not sleep, and the watery moonlight was reflected on my ceiling and I was running through the songs in my head. I don't know exactly why I realized it, or why I do not believe. But it seems to me that love - that thing everybody obsesses over while pretending not to - ought to be something unbreakable, unstoppable, unconditional, unchangeable. And I have never seen anything that could embody any of these characteristics.
It's true there are things that are like love. There's attachment. Affection. Companionship. Attraction. Etc. But not love. And I also realized that I really don't care. Because I don't want to love. People do stupid things in the name of love.
Maybe there is a such a thing as love, but I cannot see it, or I cannot feel it, or I cannot understand it, or it's just not what I think it should be. Maybe I have another name for it. Whatever.
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