Baba Boran

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.

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 è 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Here's to resolutions.

Well, I didn't get an ITOTD every day this break, but it's all a work in progress. I was going to get my neck pierced, and then my parents were afraid that I would die. For their sake, I'm putting that off for another time. Then I tried to go dumpster diving, but as it turns out, walking aimlessly through Berkeley does not guarantee eventually stumbling upon a mysterious garbage bin full of anything other than garbage. I had plans of going again tonight, in Seattle, but the weather has plans of snowing soon, and, you know, dumpsters tend to be outside.

On the other hand, I did some spontaneous road tripping, which I call a success. In a span of three weeks, I've been in:

Los Altos, CA, and it's peripherals

Milpitas, CA

San Jose, CA

Berkeley, CA

San Fransisco, CA

Santa Barbara, CA

Solvang, CA

Pismo Beach, CA

Los Angeles, CA

San Diego, CA

Seattle, WA

I also started taking hot yoga classes, collected roughly 100 signatures for a petition I'm working on, and... bought a new bath towel. It's brown.

It's winter break, Cyberspace!

This morning I took my business law final. Then I took a five hour nap, got up and stumbled off to the bus stop on my way to the airport. And I am back in California.

Remember ITOTDs? I think I still like them. And I have a challenge for myself that I'm going to let you in on. Every day of this break is going to be fan-fucking-tastic, or else it's going to be a train wreck. How, might you ask? (I know, you're not asking.) I'm going to do something totally nuts every day of this break... or as long as I can keep it up. So today, I texted my crush that I liked him, which I've never done. But I figured that if I didn't say anything then I would just be thinking about it the whole plane ride, and that's some bullshit so I just sent it real quick in the bus terminal. Romantic!

It went like this:

          "Hey, I like you. Have a good break."

And then he responded with something like, "Good to know, but we should be friends."

Err, yeah ok. Here's the funny part though: I actually cared surprisingly little about this. I think I'm an adrenaline junkie, I was just excited about sending my thing and not really thinking about the answer. Another thing is that I like to think of myself (shocker) as a straightforward, laid back sort of person, and when something conflicts with that it will bother me until I fix it. So if a boy is taking up too much of my brainpower... well that won't do.

I realized that I tend to tell you about my failures, and it's mostly because I think they're funny. Failure can be a really spectacular thing. But maybe you should know that my ego does actually get a little support now and then. So, well, remember the bad-assery I mentioned a while back, involving a letter delivery? Two things:

1. The university president complied and cut the contract with Adidas. Read: FUCK YES

2. I was elected co-chair of our student group. +10 points

Also, my pants are sagging, and that means I'm getting fitter.

Read this thing I found: http://www.principiadiscordia.com/bip/1.php

Now go do something spontaneous.

Something Boys Should Know About

Girls get a lot of pressure from society, and from the media, and from other girls, but for a moment I have something to say about our looks, in particular. Every girl you know, every girl you've met, every girl you pass by on the way to wherever has a lot on her shoulders. I think it's something worth noting that you may look at a girl without makeup, wearing sweats, and think she's still beautiful, or she's blah, or whatever, but how she looks right now at 8:30 am drinking that coffee? That's still not natural. Odds are, there's a lot that you're missing.

Even this morning, with her don't-give-a-fuck attitude and hair to match, there are all these little things- those last two pounds she sweat over, getting the exact right haircut, her eyebrows, her knees, stuff you wouldn't think to think about- they drove her crazy once. And they made her what you see today, and I think it's a mess that this is the standard and not the exception. She's been through her whole life waxing this and toning that, all just to keep from being below average. Growing up, sometimes this message was discrete, but sometimes it was thrown in her face, and she internalized it.

So now she's sipping her coffee, thinking about that extra workout she's trying to squeeze in later today because she's so fixated on the lack of a little gap between her thighs, and the end goal is to look indistinguishable from any other girl. She's probably absolutely brilliant, or maybe she's not, but whatever her aspirations there is this lingering insecurity that has been beaten into her since the day she was born. It's a race without a finish line, and the crazy part is how fantastically unimportant it all really is. There are girls who rebel against it, and they don't buy the makeup and the overpriced clothes, and then the world is even more cruel. If this made any sense at all, I think maybe boys should start putting in a little more effort to level the playing field. You know, maybe start paying more attention to your haircut, eyebrows, fingernails... it might take the pressure off of ours, or at least make it more worthwhile.

I had the most brilliant idea, so naturally I'm sharing it with Cyberspace.

HI. New favorite thing just came into existence. This is the thing: HOT APPLES.

It seems like I should acknowledge that this concept was already out there, but I felt like a mad genius in the kitchen today and please don't take that away from me.

Ok, so here is the deal. You cut up the apples, toss them in a pan, saute with cinnamon and nutmeg and a teeny bit of butter and sugar, and you get this amazing edible thing that tastes like pie or apple cider or something, but it isn't very caloric because it's mostly just fruit. I put in two apples and about a tablespoon of butter and that's all it needed. Has anyone ever gotten a Nobel prize for snack making?

Anyway, this all came about because I was sitting here thinking I should eat something but all I ever eat is apples and cheese, so I was trying to think if I had anything else in the fridge. Fast forward ten minutes and I'm busy marveling at my cooking brilliance when it occurs to me that I should get something salty-ish that will compliment the apples... so then I got some cheese curds.

I'm pretty sure you can find apples and cinnamon recipes online, but I did not do that.

New idea: HOT CHEESE.

The very best teas I've ever had that I can think of right now.

4.) Sakurambo (Japanese Cherry), from Lupicia

3.) Cinnamon Orange, from Market Spice in Seattle

2.) Cherry Cream Tea, from Tea Republik

1.) White Ayurvedic Chai blended with Samurai Chai Mate, from Teavana

And I would add Chai Tea Lattes from pretty much anywhere, but that doesn't totally count.

This is my mouth one day:

More or less.

I just ate an actual purple carrot. Was not sure they existed.

So I just found out that I didn't get into the business school, and I'm not really sure what to do with that. I'm not as sad as I thought I would be. I had this career path I picked out when I was sixteen, and I was so sure about what I wanted to do. Now everything is suddenly up in the air. It's hard not knowing, but I guess it's time to leave it to God and hopefully I'll end up where I'm supposed to be, wherever that is.

Stuff I do not like: Rejection.

Stuff I like: Adventures.

Speaking of which, that carrot turned my tongue purple. What?

http://www.carrotmuseum.co.uk/maroon.html

The more you know.

Out of caffeine, SOS

Click me. ;)  http://soundcloud.com/dj-rajzwyn

Right then. If you're still here, I guess I should say some things. So I had a speaking part in a letter delivery to the university president today. About a dozen of us marched into his office wearing pajamas with the theme of "All Day I Dream About Severance," referring to Adidas' recent labor violations while using a play off one of their ad campaigns. I personally handed over the letter and got us scheduled in to meet with the president soon. I don't mean to brag, but I'm kind of a bad ass. It's time you knew.

Well, I could tell you about bullshit professors and the stressful business application, but that's dull so I'll let you get back to your facebook-ing. Cheers.

What, then?

Oh, Honey, I love you in spite

Of the music you like,

Of the artwork you make,

Of the lyrics you speak,

Of the ways you spend your time

When you're awake,

And when you sleep; in spite

Of the things you believe,

Of the people you know,

Of the movies you watch,

Of the places you go,

Oh honey, I love you so,

I love you in spite.

--Then what do you love me for?

Let's live like free roaming souls on a highway of love, and listen to oldies often

So I started this small business selling ear cuffs, and I may just have to start promoting myself. See me here: www.stuffbyemily.etsy.com

In other news, I'm super excited about these jeans by a company called Machine. (Look them up! Or just go here: http://anonymousla.com/machine-jeans/?catid=2018) I got them a long time ago from who knows where and they were the most flattering jeans I've ever worn. It was a sad day when they didn't fit me anymore, how cool that they're online after all.

Today I got a $500 tax break from donating all my old stuff to Goodwill- a major cleaning project- so this is guilt free shopping. I highly recommend it. Rue La La, anyone?

I have heard a Czechoslavakian accent and it's like a softer Russian accent, if you were wondering.

Hello again. I haven't been here in awhile. You can figure that easily on your own if you bother to look at the date but in case you haven't, I'm drawing your attention to it now. Like inception. Think of an elephant. Look at the date.

I'm Skyping with my boyfriend as I write. He asked what I was doing and I said, "blogging." I never mentioned I had a blog before so he didn't believe me. Oh well. I never mentioned to you that I had a boyfriend but that doesn't mean you shouldn't believe that he exists, too. Coexist! Do it.

There's this really great quote by Betsey Johnson I want to show you... oh, I don't want to go to the trouble of looking it up, but it's been so long that I guess I owe you that much.

“Girls don’t dress for boys, they dress for themselves & each other. If girls dressed for boys, they’d walk around naked.”

Is that not brilliant? Anyway, nice checking up on you. S'later.

I really like the word "unencumbered." It sounds like "cucumber" and Jason Mraz uses it in his song, You and I Both.

ITOTD: Today was the first day of STAR testing in school (the first of three- Wednesday, Thursday, Friday). That's a really lame interesting thing, is it not?

I am oh so sorry to have left you for so very long without a word. (And by you I mean utter cyberspace because there is not a soul reading this blog.) Why am I talking so strangely? Why am I saying "so" so much? I do not know. Imagine it in a fun accent if it makes you feel better. I like Australian, or Czechoslovakian.

I have no idea what a Czechoslovakian accent sounds like.

Other slightly more interesting things that have happened in the last two weeks:
-I did college tours over Sprink Break.
-I went to LA to see my little brother's basketball tournament.
-I made friends with a foreign exchange student from Germany.
-I highlighted my hair, and now it looks blonde.
-Some of my friends went on a school trip to Europe, and a volcano erupted and now the airports are closed so they can't get back.

I auditioned for Glee. There's a good one. You can, too, if you've got a computer with a microphone (myspace.com/gleeauditions). It was a little bit awful because I was trying not to laugh the whole time at my two friends who were doing an interpretive dance to my song, Lean On Me. The song goes, "If there is a load you have to bear..." and they jumped, hunched forward, with their fingers out like bear claws. Dreadful, really. I am not a singer to begin with.

Yesterday for dinner I ate Aloe Vera out of a can.

Interesting things are not happening enough lately.

ITOTD: I met a crazy person named Josh while waiting in line at Starbucks.
I had pizza with tomatoes on it, which is new for me.

I am at a lull for ITOTD's. Problem.

I will think of ITOTD's for you, Cyberspace, so you will have new ideas and no excuse to be boring:
- Spend the day without volunteering any information about yourself unless asked. Ask questions about other people and meet somebody new. (Example: It's Monday. How was your weekend? You're sitting in art class. How did you think of the idea to paint that? You're waiting in line. I like your shoes, where did you get them?)
- Go for a walk barefoot. Be careful.
- Go vegetarian for a week.
- Write a book. (Or a short story....)
- Wear really thick, dark makeup tomorrow. Or wear no makeup tomorrow. (If you are a guy, this does NOT count. Ha.)
- Eat a bell pepper like you would eat an apple. (I do this a lot, actually, and they're really good.)

I could go on, but I have things to do and people to see.

Alright, I don't have people to see.

Blah.

Look up Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath. It's a poem. I lurve it.

Once there was a girl who was tough as nails. She was untouchable; no one could reach her so no one could hurt her. Yet somehow, through her thick skin and watchful eyes, she was touched. It was soft, but it was definite, unmistakable. And just like that, she crumbled into a million pieces, as if his touch was a hammer and she folded into herself, the world beneath her rock hard and unforgiving. Crumbled, cracked like an eggshell, unmistakably, uncurably.

Under the pieces there was life, and she was more alive than ever because she had become something more beautiful than the pure white of an eggshell. More alive and more beautiful than ever was this new soul, and again she had never been touched. Try, and then watch her fly soundlessly away....