Monday, February 15, 2010

And now, for one of my favorite artists...

St. Vincent "Actor Out Of Work" from Lake Fever Sessions on Vimeo.


St. Vincent "The Strangers" from Lake Fever Sessions on Vimeo.


St. Vincent "Oh My God" from Lake Fever Sessions on Vimeo.


And to think she doesn't even own an acoustic guitar.

Annie Clark from St. Vincent. My most current obsession.

Though this blog is personal I will be posting some notes for pure enjoyment. I want to share what I like/love with those that read my blog, music being a major part of that. I think that what you like is a pretty good representation of who you are. By sharing these things, I hope I come to be seen more clearly (whether it be good or bad.) Now that I'm more focused on me, I (hopefully) won't be writing anymore blogs about bad relationships, loneliness (doubtful?) and stressful hardships anytime soon. Though I will be focusing more on what I like, music and movies and ADVENTURE and God willing nice photographs of these adventures with a Nikon D3000 (who I already decided will be named Declan because I name everything dear to me.) I wrote a blog a LONG time ago about buying a Canon camera. But, after much debate, I've chosen to buy a Nikon. I'm about more than half way there and I'm REALLY hoping I'll be able to afford it by the time I go to Maryland to visit one of my best friends in the whole wide world, Vanessa. This is something I'd like to talk about simply because I'm thrilled! I've wanted to visit her at UMD for awhile. Well, really since last year. But this year I have the funds and availability to do so. It's going to be a smashing spring break vacation and I can't hardly wait!

All you need is love.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. And not just ANY Valentine's Day. My first Valentine's Day being single in almost FIVE YEARS. Thinking about it makes me want to go ker-plock. Being single is something that I desparately need. It's just a shame that I don't very much like it. Oh, I hated it at first. But now, I'm getting used to it. This I was expecting. Being single is liberating to me in a way. No attachments, no need to text so and so or call whatshisname or even allow yourself to wonder what they're doing or who they're with (not to mention the heartbreak of it all if things are going wrong.) It's all about you. Me. Me. Me.

At the same time, I don't really like having everything be about me. Being single gives you the time (wanted or not) to focus on yourself. This is never a bad thing, but...

I like focusing on other people more than me. Does that sound odd? I've always liked being apart of someone elses life and being genuinely important to them (like I'm assuming a lot of people might.) I like feeling needed and wanted, knowing that I make a difference by being involved in others' lives. I want to be of use to people. This DOESN'T mean I let people use me mind you. Instead I'm saying more selfishly, I like to be the antidote to people's problems. OKAY, not the antidote, but at least a painkiller.

Having a boyfriend...well, among other things, I believe that your boyfriend, or instead, significant other, should be (or become) your best friend. Being there for your friends is one thing. One VERY big thing. But being there for your significant other is just as big. If they're going through a hard time, it's your job to make it better (I'm not saying fix it, though if it is something easily solveable then why not?) Like all good friends, I'm the kind of person who very much wants to help even if just a little. Where I'm going with all this is that I want someone that I can take care of. Look after. I want to be there for someone even if nothing "bad" is going on. To give them the comfort that, like a good neighbor, Grace is there. I have a handful of close friends that I try my best with doing this...but I guess what I'm saying is that I want someone special to look after (not saying that my friends aren't) but someone I can have a romantic relationship with.

Despite wanting this, I'm a walking contradicton. I know that being single and having time to myself is something I truly do need. Just realizing the fact that I haven't been single in five years - minus two months or so - is RIDICULOUS. I've been in only two relationships and they've spanned a total of five years. I'm almost twenty. Ever since I was fifteen I've been deemed "taken." I don't think it's healthy. The last thing I want is to be that person who can't NOT be in a relationship. That "needs" to be in one. Because I don't. No one does. Sure, I won't lie and say I don't WANT a relationship because I do. But I don't want one now. AND I don't NEED one now. I feel like having this time alone will allow me to grow as a person, individually. To experience life on my own for once. I'm becomming, dare I say it, a woman. I am most assuredly not more woman than girl (my immaturity is something that will never fade) but I am more my own person than ever before. I feel that being single will only better me, prepare me. That when I'm ready to take the plunge into another relationship, I won't hesitate or be cautious. I'll be able to be confident no matter what the outcome. Because I've done it before. I've been alone.

About a month or so ago I was dreading Valentine's Day. I thought it was going to be horrible, lonely, and sad. But it wasn't any of those things. And I don't know why I let a stupid day like yesterday set me up for that kind of thinking. A day made "special" by corporations. Yesterday was just like any other day. Besides, why should love be celebrated one day out of the year? It should be celebrated everyday. In a relationship or not. Valentine's Day is just a silly "holiday." I'm not condemning celebrating it but I am promoting that love, the ONLY true and sure thing in this universe deserves more than a shoddy, cheesy day to be celebrated. Celebrate love everyday and always remember that it is prevalent in your life.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

On a roll...

Thanks to my lame class schedule I have been posting blogs rather quickly. With New Year's more than a month ago I've been trying to keep up with one of my last-made resolutions, which is to write more. Be it blog or story or opinion piece, etc. As far as for what to write about, I have a few updates. This morning I had PT (we have to attend two PT sessions every week) and we ran 1.5 miles (like we usually do, though I've heard scary stories about 2-3 mile runs.) BUT we ran it as an "Indian Run." Some of you may be familiar with this form of torture (I pray not) but if you aren't let me explain. Your group (about twenty of us give or take) lines up in a line. The whole line starts running. The last person in line then sprints to the front shouting "Go!" which signals the next person to sprint all the way from the back to the very start all the while running nonstop. To add, we did this around campus which included a hurtling staircase (okay, it was only comprised of ten steps) and a long stretch of uphill terrain. After about a half mile I was stationed with the "slow line" as I couldn't keep up with the completely fit of the ROTC. Thankfully, the slow line only had four girls and a higher-up. The shorter the line, the better (for the most part at least.) I ran an Indian Run last Wednesday INDOORS, which makes a helluva difference, and I thought that was bad. Today was so tiring for me that afterwards when I hit the gym to shower and get ready for class I ended up falling asleep in the sauna. It wasn't until one of the gym employees checked on the temperature inside that I woke up to gentle shaking. Despite the employee's advice to take a breather I remained where I was, realizing that I'd only been asleep for no more than ten minutes. I leaned against the wooden boards on the top shelf, watching the Top 40 music videos from the glass door that looked out to the girl's locker room. That's when I saw her. The lady I would have a gender-role discussion with.

Now, I've been wanting to write down my opinion, or rather thoughts, on gender roles for a long time. Ever since I took a Women's Studies class actually. It's a funny thing because I had never really thought about gender roles before despite being a make-up wearing, shopper-going girl who used to be a tomboy (thank you college.) The discussion began with simple questions like "Did you just come from a workout?" (we were at a gym after all) to my explanation of ROTC to eating habits and then - all of a sudden - we got into talking about make-up. You see, I was wearing my beloved eyeliner and having told her I had ran 1.5 miles she seemed perplexed. "How is your eyeliner not down your face?" Giving her information about the amazing Stila eyeliner pot and the benefits of wearing eyeshadow, she told me that she almost never wore make-up because it would all start coming off no matter what she did or used. Then she told me "Well, actually, I never wear make-up because, you see, I used to be a tomboy. My mom sent me to a beauty school in high school to make me more of a girlie-girl and I couldn't STAND the amount of make-up that was applied - they just cake it on!" I looked at her with a feeling of "Oh my God! I used to be a tomboy and kind of still am despite my make-up!" This lead to a talk about how I used to be a mega tomboy, refusing to wear dresses, leggings, hairpins, etc, how all my friends were boys, how my favorite thing to wear was overalls and a hat with All-Stars or mountain boots, and how I treasured Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles above all else - until Pokemon came along that is. I even told her about the time my mom was so concerned about my boyish ways that she asked my doctor how to change it to which he supplied "It's normal. Don't worry, she'll change." She then told me the story of how one day after school she had come home only to find that her mother had thrown away all her jeans and tennie shoes. "C'mon, we're going shopping" she had said.

Gender stereotypes are products of society, like all stereotypes, but this one in particular is so embedded that a change in gender role is like committing social suicide. As soon as we're born (even before then) we're labeled female and male respectively. But this labeling reaches such great stereotypical heights as soon as we're born (or before that.) If parents find out they're having a boy, they paint the nursery blue, the father or mother goes out and buys their soon-to-be-born son a baseball hat or decorates his room with sport memorabilia. If parents find out they're having a girl they paint the nursery pink, the mother goes out and buys frilly blankets and the father may buy his soon-to-be-born daughter a cute, cuddly teddy bear. If it weren't for colors, bows, gender-oriented shoes, hats, etc there would be no way to tell if the baby were a boy or girl. Sometimes parents dress children in unisex clothing and when presented to you, you stumble over your words, "Oh, he-she's precious!" In fact, until puberty the difference between boys and girls outwardly is almost nonexistent if it weren't for their clothing, hairstyles and personality. As children, we're told how we should act according to our sex. If you're a girl, you're told to act sweetly, even told in kid-terms to be submissive. You have certain roles; wash the dishes, learn to do your own laundry, cook alongside mom. As a boy you have more "manly" chores like mow the lawn or wash the car. This is not to say that everyone goes through the same cycle. In fact, I've been told to wash the car multiple times and I've never cooked alongside my mom because she doesn't cook. I'm just saying that there are certain differences when it comes to boys and girls and it affects the way our lives are run. Even hairstyles are dominated by gender roles. Short hair is for boys. Long hair is for girls. Colors, too. Boys can't like pink but girls can like whatever color they choose. From a young age, we're fed these gender stereotypes based on mere sex. To say as a tomboy I wasn't patronized or insulted would be a lie. Boys would always tell me "You can't hit that ball over the fence because you're a girl!" or "You can't play football - you're a girl." But, being a rather strong child, I always managed to show them up and dominate over the mean boys until, eventually, they became my friends. Because of that, I learned a lot from them. What was fun in their book; daring the other to lick an insect or chase Mackenzie Kampa around with a snail, play Power Rangers on the play set and battle over which Pokemon was better, mix our hot lunches into gooey, disgusting creations - and then daring the other to eat it for a Poptart. They were mean, prideful, and funny. It wasn't until third grade that I started making girlfriends. They were alien creatures to me - much like boys think of girls even to this day. Their hair was always filled with colorful pins, they wore uncomfortable looking clothes and talked REALLY fast. They played house and pretended that one of them was a baby. They were WEIRD. But I made friends fast in third grade and soon I was the one playing house and being the baby. To this day, I can get along with boys better than girls, perhaps because I essentially used to be one but the difference between us is huge and daunting. For girls, it's a little less bad to be seen as a tomboy. But I've never heard of a sallygirl. Boys who act feminine are looked down upon more than anyone else. They make friends with girls - boys isolate them completely. Even in the midst of being a tomboy I still got along with the other girls in my class. But for a boy, it's almost unforgivable to paint your art project pink or purple. It only gets worse at adolescence. When all the hormones start kicking in and the boys and girls start liking one another. Because of a feminine boy's past they are taunted and teased by other boys, thinking that he's gay when he might in fact be as straight as a board. It's because of gender stereotypes that many people get hurt or even change to fit society. I know I did when I reached high school. I started wearing make-up and wearing "nice" clothes, even spritzing perfume every once in awhile because I was tired of making boy friends. I wanted a boyfriend. And I got one because I changed to fit the norm. Granted, it has its benefits knowing your sports and guy lingo as well as looking "pretty" as deemed, once again, by society. But is it really all that bad to be a tomboy or sallygirl? And why is it that society has made these roles for men and women?

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

People, People, People!

Today I had an epiphany in my Sociology 100 class. Well, one spurred on by my professor's notes anyway. I'm not sure why I've never realized this (as I seem to realize every other "unthinkable" thing) but now that I have I must jot it down. Today I learned that "self" is socially negotiable. All those years of building up who you think you are (while, ironically, still questioning who you are) is determined by - you guessed it - society. In other words, PEOPLE. So, you think you're "fun," "hard-working," "nice," "outgoing," etc.? Well it turns out you might be. Depending on who's around you. How many of us label ourselves as such because PEOPLE tell us we are? How many of us label ourselves as such by comparing ourselves to other PEOPLE? Well I'll be damned. All of us. If you grew up alone on top of a mountain you wouldn't be any of these things. You'd just be. Which is what we all end up as if we take away everything that surrounds us. Obviously. But this leads me to say that if our lives were different, say, we were all prison mates (my professor's example) controlled by guards, our so-called "personalities" would diminish into nothing. If this all sounds familiar then you're thinking of the Stanford prison experiment conducted in 1971. Twenty-four undergraduate students were selected to play out roles as prisoners and guards in the basement of the psychology building at Stanford. The result was so traumatic that two students chose to quit and the whole experiment came to a complete halt in only six days. Students were becoming so engrossed with their roles that the guards would punish prisoners by taking away their mattresses or making the room colder. To avoid these consequences, prisoners would obey orders, thus diminishing their personalities, their "self." I use this example to exemplify the huge effect our environment plays on who we think we are. We think we're one way but as soon as we're thrust into a different way of life we turn out to be the complete opposite of what we thought.

Another example is from the current book I'm reading, "Nickel and Dimed" by Barbara Ehrenreich (which I highly recommend you read.) Ehrenreich took it upon herself as a journalist to do an undercover story "on (not) getting by in America." Working at such fine establishments as Wal-Mart and a nursing home, along with several restaurants, she sees if she can get by on low-wage jobs. She goes from living in trailer parks to motels and eating fast-food to eating out of donation bins. The result is that you honestly can't "get by" by having a low-wage job, though people inhumanly manage to do so. The point of bringing this novel up at all is that while working at Wal-Mart, Barb, as she's known there, gets into an argument with a fellow co-worker. Her co-worker being quite short and unable to do "returns" needs a ladder to reach the higher shelves. Barb, examining her, then writes, "And you know how I feel when I see the poor little mite pushing that ladder around? A surge of evil mirth. I peer around from where I am working in the Jordache, hoping to see her go splat." The point is that even in more minor situations such as this one, personalities are apt to change because of environment and those you're surrounded by (temporarily or in the long run.) Later she concludes:

"What I have to face is that 'Barb,' the name on my ID tag, is not exactly the same person as Barbara. 'Barb' is what I was called as a child, and still am by my siblings, and I sense that at some level I'm regressing. Take away the career and the higher education, and maybe what you're left with is this original Barb, the one who might have ended up working at Wal-Mart for real if her father hadn't managed to climb out of the mines. So it's interesting, and more than a little disturbing, to see how Barb turned out - that she's meaner and slyer than I am, more cherishing of grudges, and not quite as smart as I'd hoped."

Now looking at all that I've collected on the subject, including socialist Charles Cooley's theory which is a longer version of what I explained using the Stanford prison experiment example, I wholeheartedly agree that who we are is strongly influenced by people or society. Taking a more "positive" approach though and knowing that we can change so easily based on those around us, I encourage that even in those uncertain times we remember that, in the end, we're the ones who make the CHOICE to better or worsen ourselves or remain as is.

I really felt like I needed to write all this down. I'm not even sure if this is all making sense but it makes me feel better to have realized such an "obvious" part of everyday life.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Coachella 2010.



This is the line-up for Coachella this year and I am EXCITED! Although I won't be able to go all three days (boo!) I have decided that I'll be going on April 17th. It highly appeals to me (as it would anyone, clearly.) Looking at April as a whole, it's going to be a busy month. Un: I'm going to visit Vanessa in Maryland and from there we're going to make our way over to New York City for her birthday. (This is all happening during spring break.) And deux: COACHELLA! I've never been to Coachella, but I've been wanting to go since my sophomore year in high school so the fact that I can actually go this year is HUGE. Last year, Santa Barbara and lack of funds got in the way. This year...Zip! Zero! Zilch! Anyway, I wanted to make note of this since it's going to be epic.

Other than that, I finally had my first official day of PT (or physical training) for the ROTC. And I SUCK. I'm so out of shape it's pathetic. Today we ran to the indoor auditorium and proceeded to do stretches. Not too bad. Then...we ran 200 meters (or two laps around the auditorium for you civilians.) Okay, not too bad still...then...it just got worse from there. In total I ran 1800 meters today and I would have ran another 200 if I hadn't made up the excuse that I had an eight o' clock class. PLUS we did excercises between the 200 and 800 meter runs. I couldn't even finish my last run all the way. I skipped an entire lap due to the fear of blacking out. Granted, I only got 4 hours of sleep. But, regardless, I feel horrid. I was the SLOWEST of the bunch. This is why I've made it my goal to run EVERY DAY. I need to get in shape so I can get that scholarship. Which is something else I'd like to discuss. I guess it's not a guaranteed-for-sure thing. You have to be CHOSEN. They look at the group of 100s (or first years) and pick those they think are worthy. Seeing as I'm a wimp when it comes to PT I'm getting kind of worried, not that that is the only thing they look at of course. But I refuse to quit. They have to give me an honorary discharge if anything - but the ultimate goal is to get that scholarship and hopefully become an Officer and go to field training. Leadership is big in the Air Force, as with any military branch, and that's another thing I'm not necessarily accustomed to (like running for more than 5 seconds.) But I'm going to try my best. Also, I'm in my very own flight. Or Charlie Flight. I was in Echo Flight with Daniel but we got separated. Which is lame. But alas...Also, I have to mention that I HATE that the AFROTC doesn't tell you ANYTHING. An analogy would be as such: not knowing how to swim and having your instructor push you in and FORCE you to learn. Maybe that's why they're called the Air Force. Just kidding. They expect you to learn FAST and, for the most part, on your own. I guess that's just the way I have to do it. The ROTC is no joke. I have gained an appreciation and respect for those in the military. It's such a giant commitment. Like I said before, I'm going to try my best.

Monday, January 11, 2010

It's a bittersweet symphony this life.

So, wow, 2010. Just typing that down is hard. I honestly can't believe it's the year 2010. It seems far too futuristic, and yet, here I am on a Dell PC writing these thoughts in what is called a "blog." Microsoft Word hasn't even recognized it as an actual word. Looking back on the last decade, I can't even begin to write down how much has happened, how much has changed. This past year alone has been jam-full of change. It's mind-boggling to realize that just one year of life can shift so drastically for the individual. And for the world. 2009 was a tough year for America. And therefore for me as well. But besides the semi-depression it was a tough year personally. I won't get so much into that because my entire blog goes into it at least a dozen times. But with that in mind, I'm really looking forward to starting a new year off fresh. Well, as fresh as possible seeing as it got a little muddled at the very start. I'm still coping with losing Daniel. The Daniel I knew and loved. Recently, I've made a few regrets in regards to him. Basically, the "friends with benefits" thing instead of helping me (which was my initial theory) completely bitch-slapped the fuck out of me. It wasn't my intention for my old feelings to rise up and scream out in desperation. It was my intention to realize that my old feelings were dead and that doing intimate things and feeling nothing would solidify my theory. But something unexpected happened - in those moments of pure intimate bliss I was with the person I had loved most and missed every day. The first time it happened, I was completely confused. One, what was I doing? And two, what was I feeling? I had to try it again to make sure. And then....

After awhile I started building up hope. It wasn't just me who was feeling this, was it? I knew it wasn't. Then...maybe...? I battled with myself constantly. I never made advances towards Daniel. He was always the first to do something - like always. But he supposedly knew me. He knew I wouldn't have casual intimacy with someone I had no feelings for - even someone I did! Surely...there was a chance. A chance to make things right again. But, as I found out on New Year's, there wasn't. I can't express the filthiness I felt for doing the things I did - I felt used. I felt foolish. Stupid. And I was. But I'm glad it happened because now I couldn't be more over it. I'm honestly glad it did happen. I just regret the way in which I had to finally get the picture. And I'm sorry that the way I look at Daniel now is forever different. I know we can be really good friends but I don't know if I can ever forgive him or myself for what transpired. In this, I know time is a factor.

That's the biggest thing that has happened so far this year. And it was a huge deal. The way I see 2010 - it's all going to be downhill from here. I don't think anything this year will be so hard as the lesson I recently learned.

I also have to mention that I've been hanging out with Josh a lot lately. I'm not sure if it's a good idea or not since I'm not sure if he still likes me or not - hoping not - but I can't say it isn't a blast to hang out. I'm just going to roll with the punches on this one and hope for the best but I'll be updating about this most likely.

In addition, I'm at school at the moment. Bored out of my mind. I have a three hour break between classes on Mondays and a five hour break on Wednesdays. Lord help me. I'm taking five classes. The first of which is Intro to Sociology. Which, so far, looks dreadful. The second is Kinesiology (which is a requirement here at CSUSB) and I have no idea how that will go. Next is English 311, which is all about the English language and phonetics. I know this is going to be my favorite class already. The fourth is Math 80 (because I am inept at anything involving numbers) and lastly Aerospace Studies (which is for the ROTC.) I'll probably report on my ROTC class later on. I have no clue what to expect.