Ba ba ba, ba Barbara Ann!
Blah.
No actually, I have nothing to say about the Beach Boys. First of all, we finally got the name of The Restaurant Guy, so we can stop calling him that. (We probably won't.) His name is Boran. The end.
Ok next thing. There is a thing you need to know about and the thing is called "baba." Baba is a thing of fairy tales. It's a pastry sort of shaped like a muffin but light like angel food cake, and it's soaked in liquor. That's right, your two favorite things. They finally exist as one.
Baba comes from Naples, which is where I spent the last few days. Another food that comes from Naples that you may have heard of is called "pizza." Naples knows food.
Naples is a collage of good and bad graffiti, stitched together by good eating and bad driving. Everything is about half the cost of what you find in Rome. And that is what I have to say about Naples.
Does "Naples" even look like a word anymore? (Yes, it does. It looks like "nipples.")
Naples.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
I have fled the country.
We all knew it was bound to happen some time.
Actually I've gone to Italy, and this may temporarily be my travel blog, or you might not hear from me again for awhile. Sorry Cyberspace, you know how it is.
I'm living in an apartment in Rome that's just across from the art studio where I do all my art majoring and whatnot. The place has its ups and downs but probably more ups than most places if Roman Holiday has anything to say about it (but probably more downs if you ask the guy from The Bicycle Thief).
There's this restaurant right under my building that I have to pass to get to the studio, and it always has a man out front urging people to come in to eat. This is typical in Rome but it started out on my "down" list because the guy would try to get us to eat there twelve times a day since we were always passing by. Also, he always wears the same pair of pants. But anyway, my roommate got drunk the other day and gave him a talking to and since then we've all had a sense of humor about it, I think. So earlier I was trying to get back to the apartment and the guy started walking backward so I tried to go around in front of him, and then he started walking forward again so I tried to go behind him, and then he just started dancing so I couldn't get around him. So I said, "Really?" and he repeated, "Really?" and really there were a lot of really's all around. But now he's on my "up" list because he made me laugh and then asked me how I was doing and he's probably the first person on my "up" list because I previously didn't know I had one. Questa รจ la vita or whatever they say here.
Also I've been to so many museums and churches I don't even want to talk about it.
Imagine a person Irish dancing on a moving bus. I will leave you with that image.
Actually I've gone to Italy, and this may temporarily be my travel blog, or you might not hear from me again for awhile. Sorry Cyberspace, you know how it is.
I'm living in an apartment in Rome that's just across from the art studio where I do all my art majoring and whatnot. The place has its ups and downs but probably more ups than most places if Roman Holiday has anything to say about it (but probably more downs if you ask the guy from The Bicycle Thief).
There's this restaurant right under my building that I have to pass to get to the studio, and it always has a man out front urging people to come in to eat. This is typical in Rome but it started out on my "down" list because the guy would try to get us to eat there twelve times a day since we were always passing by. Also, he always wears the same pair of pants. But anyway, my roommate got drunk the other day and gave him a talking to and since then we've all had a sense of humor about it, I think. So earlier I was trying to get back to the apartment and the guy started walking backward so I tried to go around in front of him, and then he started walking forward again so I tried to go behind him, and then he just started dancing so I couldn't get around him. So I said, "Really?" and he repeated, "Really?" and really there were a lot of really's all around. But now he's on my "up" list because he made me laugh and then asked me how I was doing and he's probably the first person on my "up" list because I previously didn't know I had one. Questa รจ la vita or whatever they say here.
Also I've been to so many museums and churches I don't even want to talk about it.
Imagine a person Irish dancing on a moving bus. I will leave you with that image.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
A One Way Ticket to NOT HERE
Hey, Cyberspace. I suppose I haven't told you much about my life recently. Think it's about time for too much information?
Alrighty.
So, let me just tell you, this has been one hell of a quarter. I've had depression for a few months now, which has to do with Hashimoto's Disease, I think. I've been in Seattle for two years now and I'm restless. I can never be in the same place doing the same thing for too long. So at the end of this school year, I'm going home to California, and then in the fall I go to Rome. May or may not come back.
Earlier in the quarter, I got accepted in the Law, Societies and Justice major. LSJ is kind of like a mix of sociology and anthropology and political science, which is the best way I can explain it. So I'm doing that, and I'm also an art major. Don't ask me what I'm doing with my life. Why do people always ask you that? I mean, here I am, I'm living. For all I know, I could die tomorrow. This right here is what I'm doing with my life, I'm here right now, doing it. In five years, I don't know where I'll be, but I sure hope it's not the same place I'll be in ten years, let alone twenty. Nobody is happy just picking one path and sticking to it forever. I mean, maybe you could find that person, but good luck.
A couple weeks ago, I was sitting in Tea Republic working on a research paper on the environmental impact of the Italian Constitutional Court (OH DEAR LORD) when I overheard this guy say he would be sleeping on the street tonight. The guy looked to be about my age, fairly clean and carrying a guitar on his back. When he complimented my shirt later, I offered him the couch at my house. It was an absolute leap of faith. I don't know if this has ever happened to me before, but I honestly felt God talking through me. But I figured that my house is co-ed and we all lock our bedrooms at night, so the worst that could happen is he steals my housemate's stereo. Between the chance of replacing the only thing in this house worth stealing and letting a person sleep in the rain that night, I really couldn't justify letting him walk away.
The weird thing is, I think about how easy it would have been to never see him again. I met him at the very worst point of my depression, and after that night, I've spent a lot of time with him and consider him a dear friend. He tells me about how he wants to make it big as a musician, how he decided to move out of his parents' house and just go out and live in the city to focus on his music, even though he doesn't have everything all sorted out yet. He doesn't know I have depression, so he doesn't know how much just talking to him really helped me. He's only a year older than me, and he was living with his parents like a lot of kids, and he walked away from that to go on this adventure and start a new life. How many times do college kids sit in coffee shops writing research papers, thinking, what if I just got on a bus or a plane or fucking walked out of here and never came back? And he actually did it.
Granted, he wasn't in school so maybe his situation was a little more dire than mine. I think everybody has their own breaking point, where they get to that point and suddenly realize that this path they're on has hit a dead end and it's time to take a leap. I'm riding out these last couple weeks in Seattle, but I really can't be here much longer. It's always dark. I don't feel close to anybody at school. I don't sleep well, I've been missing class. I'm ready for my next adventure.
If I were to do something crazy, this is what I would do: I wouldn't come home after my trip to Rome in the fall. I would buy an old VW Bus and find a friend and we would live in our car, busing all around the continent. We would hit Venice, London, Oslo, Paris, maybe even make our way over to Asia if we felt like it. I would make enough money to eat and to be happy by drawing portraits on the street. Maybe I would paint, and get my paintings in galleries and coffee shops if we stuck around for long enough. Maybe my musician friend would come with me, and he would play Taylor Swift cover songs with his guitar case open in front of him and people would find us interesting and maybe this blog would get a reader every once in awhile.
Alrighty.
So, let me just tell you, this has been one hell of a quarter. I've had depression for a few months now, which has to do with Hashimoto's Disease, I think. I've been in Seattle for two years now and I'm restless. I can never be in the same place doing the same thing for too long. So at the end of this school year, I'm going home to California, and then in the fall I go to Rome. May or may not come back.
Earlier in the quarter, I got accepted in the Law, Societies and Justice major. LSJ is kind of like a mix of sociology and anthropology and political science, which is the best way I can explain it. So I'm doing that, and I'm also an art major. Don't ask me what I'm doing with my life. Why do people always ask you that? I mean, here I am, I'm living. For all I know, I could die tomorrow. This right here is what I'm doing with my life, I'm here right now, doing it. In five years, I don't know where I'll be, but I sure hope it's not the same place I'll be in ten years, let alone twenty. Nobody is happy just picking one path and sticking to it forever. I mean, maybe you could find that person, but good luck.
A couple weeks ago, I was sitting in Tea Republic working on a research paper on the environmental impact of the Italian Constitutional Court (OH DEAR LORD) when I overheard this guy say he would be sleeping on the street tonight. The guy looked to be about my age, fairly clean and carrying a guitar on his back. When he complimented my shirt later, I offered him the couch at my house. It was an absolute leap of faith. I don't know if this has ever happened to me before, but I honestly felt God talking through me. But I figured that my house is co-ed and we all lock our bedrooms at night, so the worst that could happen is he steals my housemate's stereo. Between the chance of replacing the only thing in this house worth stealing and letting a person sleep in the rain that night, I really couldn't justify letting him walk away.
The weird thing is, I think about how easy it would have been to never see him again. I met him at the very worst point of my depression, and after that night, I've spent a lot of time with him and consider him a dear friend. He tells me about how he wants to make it big as a musician, how he decided to move out of his parents' house and just go out and live in the city to focus on his music, even though he doesn't have everything all sorted out yet. He doesn't know I have depression, so he doesn't know how much just talking to him really helped me. He's only a year older than me, and he was living with his parents like a lot of kids, and he walked away from that to go on this adventure and start a new life. How many times do college kids sit in coffee shops writing research papers, thinking, what if I just got on a bus or a plane or fucking walked out of here and never came back? And he actually did it.
Granted, he wasn't in school so maybe his situation was a little more dire than mine. I think everybody has their own breaking point, where they get to that point and suddenly realize that this path they're on has hit a dead end and it's time to take a leap. I'm riding out these last couple weeks in Seattle, but I really can't be here much longer. It's always dark. I don't feel close to anybody at school. I don't sleep well, I've been missing class. I'm ready for my next adventure.
If I were to do something crazy, this is what I would do: I wouldn't come home after my trip to Rome in the fall. I would buy an old VW Bus and find a friend and we would live in our car, busing all around the continent. We would hit Venice, London, Oslo, Paris, maybe even make our way over to Asia if we felt like it. I would make enough money to eat and to be happy by drawing portraits on the street. Maybe I would paint, and get my paintings in galleries and coffee shops if we stuck around for long enough. Maybe my musician friend would come with me, and he would play Taylor Swift cover songs with his guitar case open in front of him and people would find us interesting and maybe this blog would get a reader every once in awhile.
Friday, May 3, 2013
A Poem for Jolene, Who was Sad and then Left
What
did he expect,
When
he tied her identity to bad luck for weather?
Always
together, but never
Absorbing
such details as quiet laughter
That
slipped through the cracks of thunder,
Out
from under clouds keeping busy by
Disguising
her smile, I wonder,
If
he ever stopped to ponder
Why
she never invested in an umbrella,
Where
are your rain boots, Cinderella?
Suggesting
her sunshine was never
Out
of the question, and every day
She
stepped out to wet socks
And
shivered in short sleeves to say
She
had hope, that by night
There
might be a clear sky.
Friday, April 5, 2013
A List of My New Favorite Things
1. 3D Music
Put in some headphones and follow this link if you like things that are awesome.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSSLQf95-Nc
2. Ankle Boots
Enough said.
3. Essena Oneill's Set Plan on Tumblr. It's a really straightforward exercise/ meal plan that fits into a school day. Based on the five days I've followed it, I'd say it's worth a go.
http://essenaoneill.tumblr.com/setplan
4. Sloths photoshopped into unusual situations.
i.e. The one in the pope's outfit (SlothSaturday)
5. Flameworking
I'm in the advanced glass class now and we have started using flameworking techniques (aka lampworking). I specialize in glass lumps. I also do globs and hunks.
6. The people who actually read a recent post of mine! Mad props to you all! I think I am in love with you. Ya know, in a casual way.
Put in some headphones and follow this link if you like things that are awesome.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSSLQf95-Nc
2. Ankle Boots
Enough said.
3. Essena Oneill's Set Plan on Tumblr. It's a really straightforward exercise/ meal plan that fits into a school day. Based on the five days I've followed it, I'd say it's worth a go.
http://essenaoneill.tumblr.com/setplan
4. Sloths photoshopped into unusual situations.
i.e. The one in the pope's outfit (SlothSaturday)
5. Flameworking
I'm in the advanced glass class now and we have started using flameworking techniques (aka lampworking). I specialize in glass lumps. I also do globs and hunks.
6. The people who actually read a recent post of mine! Mad props to you all! I think I am in love with you. Ya know, in a casual way.
Friday, March 15, 2013
People Are Hurting, Read the Fucking Flyer
There’s
a little bird
On
a manmade perch
And
he’s looking down at you.
You’re
so fine, your cheekbones
Rise
high as he flies, he knows
Sometime
you’ll die,
Then
your bones become dirt
And
your dirt intertwines
Mixed
so fine with a little bird,
Waiting
in line, the worms dine,
And
they squirm under boots
As
you stride, head held high,
Dust
the dirt from your button down shirt,
There’s
blue sky in your eyes
But
on earth there is hurt
And
you’re walking right by
And
you’re kicking up dirt
It
is filling your boots
It
is choking the sky
And
the worms don’t take notice,
To
them you’re sky high,
So
you cough and you curse
But
you don’t see the hurt,
Just
a little bird
On
a manmade perch
And
he’s looking down on you.
I have something to say, so I need you to read it.
I came here to post a new poem, but first I want to try rephrasing an earlier post (two posts in one night?!). See: the only post written in bright blue letters.
I noticed that I used the word "internalized" in the post, and that's actually kind of a buzzword. I'm not sure if I even knew this term at the time, but I think what I was figuring out on my own was something a lot of people have actually been talking about for awhile, and it's called "internalized oppression." A pretty straightforward example of this is the kids who post comments on controversial YouTube videos saying, "I don't know why people are getting offended about this, I'm part of the community that is being marginalized and I'm totally cool with it. Get a sense of humor, LOL." Except maybe sometimes we should be having those conversations, rather than further alienating people (and especially ourselves). So I have a story for you.
I briefly mentioned a petition I was working on this quarter in an earlier post, saying I had collected 100 signatures. Well, the group of roughly ten of us ended up with 8,315 signatures by the time we turned it in on March 1st. (Read: superhuman strength and lots of coffee) I can now say that I've had one-on-one conversations with roughly one thousand people I go to school with. Not bad for an introvert.
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is that when you are talking to tons of different strangers about an issue that you care about and want to make them care about, you start to pick up on tricks to make each person more likely to put their signature on that page. I learned to read people's expressions pretty well, and would shorten my talking points accordingly. I could figure out pretty quickly if I should emphasize more that "it's a really good cause," or "don't worry, I swear we won't email you or anything," and so on. 9 times out of 10, people were awesome and put their name down and wished me good luck. Out of that 1 out of 10 that didn't sign, they were usually cramming for a test or otherwise polite about it. But once in awhile, I would get slammed by these assholes who would talk to me like I wasn't a person. I remember this one guy sitting with a big group of people who decided to speak for the whole group by folding his arms, leaning back, talking over everyone else at the table and saying in an incredibly sarcastic voice, "Oh, that's really great for you! HAVEANICEDAY."
Oh, you are so very witty! I bet you've never thanked a bus driver or looked a waitress in the eye. Clearly there's no need because you are better than all of us.
Otherwise, the standard asshole would tell me with a really condescending look on their face that actually I had no idea what I was talking about and clearly they were experts on the thing I've spent the better part of my college life learning about (sweatshops and labor rights), probably because they read an article with a corporate sponsorship that told them that sweatshops are good for the economy. (How many times did I hear, "Umm, actually, did you know that sweatshops are good for the economy?" Umm, actually, you said sweatshops but I think you meant your mom.) I'm definitely not saying that you shouldn't be skeptical of the majority opinion when everyone else is jumping on the bandwagon (think of the Joseph Kony video and its critics), but that doesn't mean that when a differing opinion comes out, it is automatically the real truth. You still need to do your research- be skeptical on both sides.
Whenever this happened, I would feel a little down for the rest of the day, no matter if it was one asshole and the other fifty people were encouraging. (Which sucks! But it's hard not to care.) I realized pretty quickly that it was only guys who talked to me this way- I never once had this problem with a girl. Eventually, I also noticed that on the days that I wore makeup, guys were more receptive in general and I hardly ever got picked on. I also got more email addresses on those days. Once I figured this out, I started making sure to wear makeup on the days I was planning to petition. I was fairly proud of figuring this out and even felt victorious in a way, like I beat the assholes at their own game...
Until it hit me one day that the assholes had effectively trained me like a dog to look pretty for them in order to earn common courtesy. As a person who is perpetually late for everything, I would sometimes even choose makeup over breakfast if I had to get to class. I was skipping breakfast to put on makeup because to the assholes, I was only worth human decency if they were attracted to me and maybe thought they could get something. So I would smile like an idiot and they would sign where I wanted but I was the one rolling over. I thought I was the winner, I didn't even see what I was doing to myself.
And that is internalized oppression.
If you start to pay attention, you'll notice that in group discussions, girls will say "I think-," and "Sorry, I just want to say-," and "Um, well I don't know but-" and so forth. On the other hand, you will rarely hear a guy apologize before speaking his mind. Since somebody pointed this out to me, I catch myself doing it, too. If you have something to say, FUCKING SAY IT. It is important. It needs to be heard. Don't let other people talk over you or shoot you down. You are valuable, it isn't fair to the world that you keep yourself locked up. You're not sorry, and you do know. So own it.
I noticed that I used the word "internalized" in the post, and that's actually kind of a buzzword. I'm not sure if I even knew this term at the time, but I think what I was figuring out on my own was something a lot of people have actually been talking about for awhile, and it's called "internalized oppression." A pretty straightforward example of this is the kids who post comments on controversial YouTube videos saying, "I don't know why people are getting offended about this, I'm part of the community that is being marginalized and I'm totally cool with it. Get a sense of humor, LOL." Except maybe sometimes we should be having those conversations, rather than further alienating people (and especially ourselves). So I have a story for you.
I briefly mentioned a petition I was working on this quarter in an earlier post, saying I had collected 100 signatures. Well, the group of roughly ten of us ended up with 8,315 signatures by the time we turned it in on March 1st. (Read: superhuman strength and lots of coffee) I can now say that I've had one-on-one conversations with roughly one thousand people I go to school with. Not bad for an introvert.
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is that when you are talking to tons of different strangers about an issue that you care about and want to make them care about, you start to pick up on tricks to make each person more likely to put their signature on that page. I learned to read people's expressions pretty well, and would shorten my talking points accordingly. I could figure out pretty quickly if I should emphasize more that "it's a really good cause," or "don't worry, I swear we won't email you or anything," and so on. 9 times out of 10, people were awesome and put their name down and wished me good luck. Out of that 1 out of 10 that didn't sign, they were usually cramming for a test or otherwise polite about it. But once in awhile, I would get slammed by these assholes who would talk to me like I wasn't a person. I remember this one guy sitting with a big group of people who decided to speak for the whole group by folding his arms, leaning back, talking over everyone else at the table and saying in an incredibly sarcastic voice, "Oh, that's really great for you! HAVEANICEDAY."
Oh, you are so very witty! I bet you've never thanked a bus driver or looked a waitress in the eye. Clearly there's no need because you are better than all of us.
Otherwise, the standard asshole would tell me with a really condescending look on their face that actually I had no idea what I was talking about and clearly they were experts on the thing I've spent the better part of my college life learning about (sweatshops and labor rights), probably because they read an article with a corporate sponsorship that told them that sweatshops are good for the economy. (How many times did I hear, "Umm, actually, did you know that sweatshops are good for the economy?" Umm, actually, you said sweatshops but I think you meant your mom.) I'm definitely not saying that you shouldn't be skeptical of the majority opinion when everyone else is jumping on the bandwagon (think of the Joseph Kony video and its critics), but that doesn't mean that when a differing opinion comes out, it is automatically the real truth. You still need to do your research- be skeptical on both sides.
Whenever this happened, I would feel a little down for the rest of the day, no matter if it was one asshole and the other fifty people were encouraging. (Which sucks! But it's hard not to care.) I realized pretty quickly that it was only guys who talked to me this way- I never once had this problem with a girl. Eventually, I also noticed that on the days that I wore makeup, guys were more receptive in general and I hardly ever got picked on. I also got more email addresses on those days. Once I figured this out, I started making sure to wear makeup on the days I was planning to petition. I was fairly proud of figuring this out and even felt victorious in a way, like I beat the assholes at their own game...
Until it hit me one day that the assholes had effectively trained me like a dog to look pretty for them in order to earn common courtesy. As a person who is perpetually late for everything, I would sometimes even choose makeup over breakfast if I had to get to class. I was skipping breakfast to put on makeup because to the assholes, I was only worth human decency if they were attracted to me and maybe thought they could get something. So I would smile like an idiot and they would sign where I wanted but I was the one rolling over. I thought I was the winner, I didn't even see what I was doing to myself.
And that is internalized oppression.
If you start to pay attention, you'll notice that in group discussions, girls will say "I think-," and "Sorry, I just want to say-," and "Um, well I don't know but-" and so forth. On the other hand, you will rarely hear a guy apologize before speaking his mind. Since somebody pointed this out to me, I catch myself doing it, too. If you have something to say, FUCKING SAY IT. It is important. It needs to be heard. Don't let other people talk over you or shoot you down. You are valuable, it isn't fair to the world that you keep yourself locked up. You're not sorry, and you do know. So own it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)