Posts Tagged “choices”
Posted by Re in Culture, Life, Reflections, Stories, tags: choices, contemplation, Culture, gay rights, gender, life, normalcy, norms, realization, reflective, story, thoughts
I just remembered something. See, sometimes I pick up my three-year-old sister from daycare. One day, I picked her up and when we were going to the car she was telling me about one of her little friends. His name was Andrew. She said, “Andrew doesn’t wear panties because he’s a boy. Boys don’t wear panties. Boys wear underwear.” Now, since I’m not her mother and I’m not raising her, I just let it go. Besides, she’s three. They’re just trying to teach her the basics of life.
Can you imagine if it was my kid, though? You know I would immediately walk back into that daycare center and bitch them out. Something along the lines of “why the hell are you teaching my child that boys don’t wear panties? Boys can wear whatever they want. Why are you differentiating between boys and girls anyways?”
The world is probably glad I’m not a parent.
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Posted by Re in Life, Reflections, tags: choices, contemplation, Culture, emotive, happy, life, life is short, normalcy, norms, reflective, sad, thoughts
I get really angry when I’m trying to help someone and all they do is give me back reasons why it won’t work. Especially when the issue is completely psychological.
Now, before any of you get on me, I’m aware that what I’m saying may be pretty hypocritical. I want to change these things in myself, too.
If you are depressed because you’re stuck in a crappy town, I’m going to try and help you think about the future when you can get out of it. I’m a futurist. That’s what I do. So when you turn back to me and say things like “well just because you got out doesn’t mean it will work for me.” Shut up with your negativity. When I’m trying to help you it feels really shitty when you just shut down my help.
When you’re feeling low self esteem and I tell you you’re not unattractive, please don’t respond with how you feel unattractive and that’s what matters. Say thanks and internalize the praise I’m sending you — it’s meant to make you feel better. If people tell you that you’re cute and you don’t listen to them, you’re never going to feel cute. You’re always going to feel shitty and ugly. You could be the most beautiful person in the world but if you don’t believe people when they tell you that, you’re shit out of luck.
And please please PLEASE don’t complain to me about feeling fat. Chances are it’s the way your body is supposed to be, it’s perfectly healthy, and you’re just trying to fit into some shitty societal norm that doesn’t even make sense. When you tell me that you’re jealous of my tiny body it just makes me feel shitty. I didn’t choose to be this way, I have a really small bone structure and a fast metabolism. As soon as I turn 20 or 25 my metabolism will slow down and I’ll have the same issues that you do. So please PLEASE learn to accept your body. It was made for you and it’s yours to love.
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Posted by Re in Classwork, Consciousness Meaning and Life Purpose, Life, Media, Reflections, tags: awake, blogging, choices, cmlp, contemplation, life, life is short, realization, reflective, thoughts
I’m not sure I know myself very well at all. In the movie Juno, Mac MacGuff says, “I thought you were the kind of girl who knew when to say when,” to which Juno responds, “I don’t know what kind of girl I am.” This statement speaks to me, and I feel much the same sentiment. Often people make statements about me, or are surprised when I say certain things or act certain ways. I am often confused, frustrated, and occasionally hurt by these statements, because I don’t usually think of myself the same way other people are making me seem. This feeling is described and explained very well in this video by Ze Frank, specifically starting around 2:30:
“Lots of things can stand in your way, especially the people who are closest to you. Your family, your closest friends, think they know you and sometimes can have a very rigid definition of your theme: “You were never athletic.” “You always start things and never finish them.” “You’re not a naughty boy.” “You’re artsy.” “Your theme isn’t just made up by you.” Robert Putnam, in a book called ‘Bowling Alone’ says this inner circle is very good at supporting you in times of crisis. When you’re emotionally severed, they can remind you who you are. But if you wanna change who you are, you might need other people. People who know you but don’t know you so well. Putnam says that that’s what knitting circles and bowling leagues and clubs supplied in the middle of last century. People who would surprise you by saying, “Wow, you’re athletic.” “You do have a way with words.” “You seem like a naughty boy.” These are the people who seem like they can lead you to a new, interesting job. These are the people who provide you with new themes and new perspectives, away from the burden of history of your inner circle.”
I realize that I so often ignore as much of the world as I can and just let things happen to me. I choose ignorance over knowledge because I am afraid of things such as failure or rejection. This fear drives me to hide within my own inner circle, to keep to myself and stay around what I know to be ‘safe’. This is what causes me to stay within the same activities, as well as avoid taking risks of any sort. I’m afraid to start anything because I’m afraid of doing it poorly. I stay stuck within my own theme, never venture outside my inner circle, and never explore new things. I’m forcing the same old theme upon myself.
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Posted by Re in Culture, Technology, tags: choices, Culture, email, family, friends, phone, products, Technology, text, voicemail
This article reminded me to check the messages that I’ve been putting off since the beginning of April.
While I do agree that voicemail is annoying and I would rather not have to listen to it, there is a specific reason most of the time when I put off listening to my messages. There is one specific person who always leaves voicemails that make me cry. Once there’s a message from this person, I will put off listening until another one that could have content comes in. In April, this person left a message, and the next two messages were left by my grandparents. I called my family back and told them that I hadn’t listened to the messages yet, but what did they need?
Just now, I finally checked the messages. It turns out the message I had been avoiding listening to was just a couple seconds of silence, and then a click. How was I to know?
After listening to the messages from my family, I went back and listened to all the messages I had saved. There was a comical one from a friend, many cute ones from my significant other, and birthday wishes from both friends and family. There was even an adorable message from my two-year-old sister, where I could hear my mom in the background saying things for her to repear. These saved messages remind me why I used to love getting voicemails.
In the article listed above, mention is made of products designed to transform voice messages into text. For messages that are simply about the transferral of information, this would be a lovely innovation. My emails go to my phone already, so I would be able to easily address the problems at hand. However, reading a message from my mother’s cell phone that says “Hi Re, Love you Re, Bye Re” would not have nearly the same effect as hearing my baby sister’s voice. There’s a reason I have these messages saved, and that’s to listen to the voices of people I care about when I’m feeling down. For the past two months I’ve been unable to do this because I was afraid of that one message. I actually forgot about all the wonderful messages I had saved.
So, while voice-to-text services would be great in some situations, the majority of the voicemails I receive are these fun ones. I like the idea, but am unsure of practicality.
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I know I just graduated. I know I’m only nineteen. I know. But a lot can happen in a year. Looking back, I’m a totally different person now, in a number of ways of course. The one that struck me just now is the way I portray myself.
I used to be a mall-rat, I wore bright clothes, I was bubbly and at the same time vaguely emo. Sometimes I was described as a raver, not because I did drugs (I didn’t) but because of the bright colors and outlandish styles I would sport. I wore cute floofy skirts and way too much plastic jewelry. I remember a specific day where I chose to wear a striped polo shirt and jeans my senior year. I had none of my normal bright makeup on, no plastic stars around my neck. About halfway through the day one of my ‘good friends’ (because everyone was a good friend in high school) asked me what was wrong with me and what I was wearing. It wasn’t in a mean way, and it turns out a lot of people were confused by my choice out attire. Now, I’m reminded of a certain video by Ze Frank that I will link to later when I’m at a computer instead of on my blackberry. I had build up a personal brand, and now I was deviating from this. I had created a theme that people expected me to stick to and I was breaking free of it. The people around me kept me stuck in that niche of who I was, as I returned to my previous style the following day.
When I went off to college, I had a new place to start. I was able to create a more sophisticated portrayal of myself, and seem more presentable to the world. My style no longer screamed “stupid bubbly teenage girl” and instead begged for respect, or at least I would like to think so. About halfway through my second semester, I began to miss my old style. I didn’t expect to go back into it, but I wanted to inforporate pieces of it into the brand I’ve created for myself. Now I’m trying to figure out how to do this without being overwhelming.
A friend who knew me in high school and has actually watched the progression commented on it the other day. He said that I’ve gotten more sophisticated and I can’t pull off huge sparkly pink star earrings anymore. I’m kind of sad, partially because I’m afraid he’s right, and partially because I feel like it’s another example of being kept in a theme by outside forces. Besides, a lesbian who’s name I can’t remember and who I met once – at the mall whilst mallratting no less – gave me those earrings. I at least want to be able to wear them so that I can tell that story.
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