Frozen yogurt - lets cut the crap.

I don't typically rant about nutrition.
I am not a calorie counter, in fact I barely check the nutritional facts about food. Typically though, I eat well. I eat lots of fruits and vegetables, not many fatty foods, and few deserts.
But there is one thing that I'm starting to see that really pisses me off.
The new frozen yogurt fad.

They all boast the: "Healthy Alternative to Ice Cream!"
They also follow this formula.

Color:____ + Fruit/plant:______ = Overpriced frozen yogurt.
Ex: Red Mango
Orange Leaf
Pinkberry

Somehow, this magical combination of fruit and color, plus the "modern" decor covered in simple geometric shapes, bright colors, and "do it yourself" dispensers gives people the opportunity to feel "cool and hip for 15 minutes" (I swear, this was said in all seriousness by another blogger) while spending a ton of money on not a lot of food.

Lets look at some numbers.

Red Mango's "Classic Vanilla Bean Yogurt" is only 110 calories. Sounds great! Until you check the serving size. It's 110 calories for 1/2 a cup, which is significantly smaller than the average frozen yogurt eater. On average, people consume around 5oz per serving. At this serving size, the amount of calories goes around 200 calories.

Now don't get me wrong, your average 5oz of "Cold Stone Creamery" is still 320 calories, which is significantly more.

But wait.

The Cold Stone Creamery calories already includes all the cookies, chocolate syrup, marshmallows, fruit, cereal, and chocolate chips that Red Mango offers to pile onto your yogurt.
With all these toppings, the calorie count can bounce up to anywhere between 280-320 calories. Not exactly the "healthy alternative".

But this is just the average. Some people pile tons and tons of frozen yogurt into their cups, and some people visit their favorite frozen yogurt place once or twice a week.

The calories add up.

But this isn't really where I'm concerned. Again, I don't count calories. Here's one of my main issues.

People think that eating frozen yogurt is just like eating regular yogurt.
WRONG.

Frozen yogurt has a third of the protein of regular yogurt, less enzymes and probiotics, and its significantly higher in sugar. In fact, some frozen yogurt actually has MORE sugar than ice cream!

But here's my main issue:

PLEASE, stop acting like you're "eating healthy" when you choose to eat frozen yogurt. Don't be proud because you spent significantly more on frozen yogurt than ice cream. It is not "cool and hip", it does not make you suddenly "higher class", and it does not make you more intelligent.

Stop the bullshit, and eat there if you really like frozen yogurt, not because you think it makes you look like the cool kid on the block.

Seriously? Drop the double standard.

"Oh he's so hot."
"Yeah, I'd never date a fat guy."
"Mmmmhmmm I need a six pack."

Ever hear this conversation? Ever hear it out of a group of rather obese girls?

How about this one:

"I can't date fat chicks."
"They can't be too skinny though."
"Dude, as long as there's boobs I don't care."

I bet you've heard this conversation. How about out of a group of either underweight or overweight guys?

Oh yeah. I've heard it.
And then I hear them complain. Why don't I have a boyfriend? Why don't I have a girlfriend? I'm a nice person, I'm smart, I'm funny- Why can't people just look past my appearance and see the real me?

Uh HELLO? Seriously? Drop the double-standard! You want to have a great relationship? Try this.
Instead of automatically tuning out the people around you that doesn't fit your "perfect body type" - try to locate people based on their personality. Just like what you'd want someone to look at in you.
You want to be noticed for your kindness? Look for a girl with a sense of humor. You want to be noticed for your intelligence? Look for the polite guy holding the door. Don't just zone out on anyone who isn't perfectly athletic, or blonde, or not blonde, or too short, too tall, not busty enough, or too plain.
And you know what? Chances are, if you're looking for someone like that, you won't end up going for the "hot jock" or "babe" who turns out to be a total douche/bitch.

This ends now.

I'm tired of feeling small and insecure.
I'm tired of feeling like I can't live up to anyone's expectations (including my own).
I'm tired of running to the bathroom between classes to cry.
I'm tired of being frustrated, that turns into anger, that turns into hot tears.
I'm tired of being told that I am not strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, skinny enough, witty enough, work hard enough, or courageous enough.
I'm tired of being less than what I could be.
This ends now.
This ends today.

Please shut the fuck up.

Class eats up my life. I wanted to start the whole school year off with my rants about education, but I haven't had time to write something that uses that much research.
Instead I wanted to rant about this.
So bear with me.

Some sounds are just annoying. Squeaky mechanical pencils. Nails on a chalkboard. Or my personal bane-of-existance = foam rubbing together (ugh!)

Imagine this. You're sitting in a classroom where everyone is talking. The teacher has just walked in and hasn't started doing anything yet. The teacher's pet, a dumpy girl with squinty eyes and mouse brown hair, screeches "shut up!" Her voice is worse than nails on a chalkboard, its high, nasally, and causes everyone to glare in her general direction. Quite simply, she has a bad voice.

Bad voices suck. They're grating, high pitched (most of the time), and make you want to smack the person vocalizing in the face. You hear them speak, and you watch as everyone's eyes in the room twitch just a little, they clench up, and pretend nothing occurred. The worst part? They almost always belong to someone that you can't just say "shut up" to. Like a teacher, drill officer, or cheerleader. (fuck you cheerleaders, fuck you. You drive me insane.)
The worst possible situation is when this person decides to tell you to do something in a commanding way. "Get in line!" or "Hurry up!" are some of my favorites. Even if you like them, their voice just makes you want to say: "Why? I don't have to listen to you!" and again, makes you want to smack them in the face. Instead, you smile, twitch, and keep everything under control.
My other least favorite type of "bad voice" is the one that belongs to "that girl." You know who she is. Everyone knows at least one (or more) of these. She's the one that says "like omg no way", in the loudest, highest voice possible - just in so they could make sure anyone in a 5 mile radius could hear their dramatic story. Most of the time about being drunk. Or fucking. Shit that no one wants to hear. This girl makes me want to stab her and her clones every day, and she has NO FUCKING CLUE WHY.
The sad thing is - there's nothing you can do to change the situation. No matter what you say, they will always have that same friggin voice. It will always suck. We will always cringe. And there's no avoiding them because bad voices seem to be a fucking epidemic these days.

So please, if you recognize that you have one of these voices:
Shut the fuck up.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS WONDERFUL, READ.

This summer I had the pleasure of going to see "Shakespeare on the Green", a wonderful event in which two of Shakespeare's plays are done in their entirety in the middle of a park. It is lovely. The show I got to see was A Midsummer Night's Dream, which is undoubtedly one of my favorites. I was, in a word, ecstatic about the opportunity.
To watch the show, I decided to go with my boyfriend, and meet up with some of my friends, and some of their friends whom I did not know. For those involved, you know who you are, I love you, and I am glad to have seen the show with you. HOWEVER. During our "before show games", there was one girl whom I knew I would not be able to stand talking to. This is a rather harsh statement. I hadn't met this girl before, and yet she managed to say something so horrid that I absolutely could not stand her presence. This is that statement:
"Oh, I don't read, I just watch movies."

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS WONDERFUL, READ.

What?
Are you kidding me?
You don't read?

Reading is like this:

They open your mind. They transport you to another world. They can expand your horizons and give you a way to escape the mundane. They engage your mind, instead of just letting "colors and anger" smack you in the face for hours.
I cannot say how many hours I've spent, just sitting and reading a good book.
As Andrew Ross once said: "The smallest bookstore still contains more ideas of worth than have been presented in the entire history of television."
Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone read a book every time Jersey Shore came on?

It would be fucking magic.

On another note, Borders is shutting down for good. I was seriously depressed when I found out about this. I mean really, Borders is my favorite book store. Barnes and Nobles just doesn't compare for me. So its basically a tragedy.
But the one good thing that came out of this?
Epic book sale.

I've bought at least 8 books since the clear-out sale has started, and I couldn't be happier about my purchases.

So seriously,
Take advantage of this sale. Go get some books. READ THEM FOR GOODNESS SAKE, don't just turn them into a pretty coaster.

I can has childhood?

Sometimes I feel closer to kids than I do people my own age.
Nowadays, it seems that all most people do is work, fuck, drink, and sleep.

Every once in a while, I just wanna sit and talk about how awesome the Sonic games are, or get really excited about a conversation that consist of "BWARGLE!" and other made up words.
I want to dance around on a trampoline.
I want to have lego building parties.
I really want to run around a playground.

And I seriously want to get rid of all this drama: parent drama, car drama, job drama, work drama, school drama, drinking drama, smoking drama, fucking drama.

Can I go play Mario Kart now?

Fucking Toad.

I used to dream.

I used to dream that my teeth wiggled around in my mouth. They'd get loose, and then I'd spit them out, or swallow them.

I used to dream that I was drowning, and I smiled as I saw the sun through the water.

I used to dream that I was driving a car, but I couldn't control it. I'd crash, over and over.

I used to dream that I was going to be murdered by a life-sized doll.

I used to ask what they meant.

Now I just let them pass.

On Bad Habits

Bad habits. We've all got em. Whether we like to acknowledge them or not, they're still there. Kinda like ignoring someone in hopes that they'll get the hint and leave. In which they don't.

I think summer magnifies bad habits. It's like the excessive amount of sun makes generally lazy people worthless piles of shit, annoying people more useless things to jabber about, and so on.

Here's my bad habit: Saying I'm going to do something and not doing it.

During the school year I could say: I'm doing these classes, this for lunch, this amount of practice, study these things, and then I'll watch this movie and go to bed. And I'd do the classes, maybe the lunch, most of the practice, some of the studying, and probably not the movie.

The summer is much, much worse.

In the summer I have TONS of time. But because I'm not on a schedule, I can never do what I wanted to do, because I don't have to plan it into a 1-2 hour time slot.

For example: today I wanted to make sea salt icecream earrings, get to the next chapter in my book for my music class, and practice my flute.

I accomplished getting through a chapter.

And what prevented me from making earrings/practicing?
I'm not quite sure. I somehow ended up going out to some stores, bought some fruit at a fresh produce stand, and doing a whole lot of nothing on the internet. Not all that productive. Kinda fun, but definitely not what I planned.

On a larger scale, during the summer I always say I'm going to do something BIG. Like a road trip to Kansas City. Or skydiving. Going to the pool (not all that big...but I always manage to forget to go...) Working on my novel (also not big, definitely something I should do, but never do) or have a huge party with my friends.

I never do these things. I plan them out a lot of times. I spend mass amounts of time just thinking about doing them, but I never actually do them. I think this might just be another symptom of my current status: being a lazy pile.

I suppose this week I'll attempt to accomplish something. Or maybe I'll just think about accomplishing something. Either way, I'll be letting my terrible habits take over. After all, it is summer, so I'll blame that until fall comes.

....thats probably another bad habit, isn't it?

Take your personality, and cram it in this format.

After jump-starting my car and an apology, I finally made it to my job interview an hour late. (I called before-hand, so this really wasn't a problem) I was already pretty annoyed by my stupidity (don't leave the lights on overnight! The battery will DIE.) and my family seemed determined to make my day especially terrible.
So I already started my interview looking like crap.

The questions were fairly typical. "Tell me about yourself". "What do you know about the company?"
And then: "If you could describe yourself in three adjectives what would they be?"
Seriously?

How do you describe the whole of your personality (while projecting yourself as a great person that they want to hire) with THREE ADJECTIVES?

Consider. Your personality is extremely complicated. Look at the list below and count how many adjectives you think describe you.

practical; persistent; careful; introverted; emotional; impulsive; athletic; conforming; achieving; confident; expressive; flexible; rugged; down-to-earth; curious; analytical; imaginative; idealistic; stable; self-reliant; precise; intellectual; unordered; original; frank; independent; creative; helpful; understanding; energetic; adventurous; conscientious; moderate; insightful; popular; driving; powerful; persistent; orderly; kind; cooperative; ambitious; persuasive; organized; efficient; friendly; responsible; assertive; competitive; obedient; detailed; tactful; flirtatious; enthusiastic; dependable; thorough

Did you only find three to describe yourself?
I don't think so.

I found four in the first line.

You can't possibly understand what a person is like if you only know three adjectives to describe them by.

It's like trying to take a play by Shakespeare and telling the whole story in a sentence. Here's your whole personality, now cram it in this format.

So I promptly listed off three generic-positive adjectives. I finished the interview, bid them good day, and went on my way.

There is something to be said about Tiger Moms.

Here's my phone history for one day.
Incoming calls:
11:12am
11:46am
11:55am
2:52pm
3:35pm
7:23pm
8:07pm
10:20pm
All from one person. My mother.
You know, checking up on your kid to see how they're doing is perfectly fine. I have friends whose parents call them once or twice a day. But 8 times? That's a bit much.
There's something to be said for tiger moms.
Ah, for those who don't know the term, here's my definition.
Tiger mom: Mother who's parenting style involves incredibly high standards, disapproving statements/glares, and attempts to control all aspects of child's life.
Aka: Asian mother.

Being half Chinese with a very White father places my mother into this lovely category.

Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate being raised with a tiger mom. Seriously. Would I be starting a career playing the flute if my mom did not FORCE me to practice everyday for at least an hour or else I would have no computer/talking-to-friends-on-the-phone/sanity? Probably not. I hated that instrument for months before I realized that somehow along the way I had improved. The same goes for piano, which I played for an hour every day since I was 6. I would sit there and practice, even if my friends came over to play, I couldn't leave until the kitchen timer rang to say "Hey! You have freedom now!" Of course, if I hadn't improved on the piece since I started, I'd still have to practice until I got it right.

My mother, like many other tiger moms, also had a strict belief in the power of homework and perfection. I was not allowed any grades less than an A. I can remember coming home with a report card in third grade that showed straight As, with an A+ in both English and Science. My mother exclaimed: "What is this? You should have all A+s. I never got anything less than an A+ in school." She monitored my homework, and on the days in which I did not have an assignment, she would make one. Thank you Georgia University for granting her a master's degree in education, because she thought this gave her the authority to give me extra assignments. Between extra math assignments (that were always more complicated then what we were learning in class), repeating letters of the alphabet to "improve my terrible handwriting" (which, stayed horrifically akin to chicken scratch), and several pages of Chinese letter writing, I stayed fairly busy.

The biggest difference between western parents and Asian parents is how the child is given reinforcement. I have had friends that got 5 dollars for each report card that came back with mostly As and Bs. After concerts their parents would say "great job! It was wonderful!" My mother scoffed at parents paying their children for "doing mediocre", and after my concerts she'd exclaim "that was wonderful! But you could have improved on...." Western parents tend to give positive reinforcement in order to help their child understand how to improve. Chinese parents believe that this babies the child, and doesn't help them prepare for the "real world". Telling the child that "you can always do better" supposedly gives them the constant desire to improve. While this is true, I know for myself and other Asian raised children, this attitude also gives the child extremely low self esteem. I still battle with the constant feeling that I am "not good enough" for my mother, whether she agrees or not.

All tiger moms have one final and all encompassing rule. They determine your future. You want to be a dancer? Too bad, you're a doctor. Luckily for me, being a classical musician was one of the chosen career fields my mother had in store for me. My other choices were: marine biologist, geneticist, engineer, teacher, or pharmacist. For a while I wanted to be a graphic designer, and my mother shot that down as soon as physically possible. I have several friends faced with the same situation. Their college, and future career, is all determined by their lovely tiger moms.

Tiger moms may seem extreme to many people, but for me at least, this was the norm. Her constant "I need to know where you are at all times!" (hence the calling 8 times a day), and her "you can always improve" stems from one thing. Love. Believe it or not, this harsh way of raising a child is all a product of love. Tiger moms sincerely believe that everything they do will eventually help their child in the long run. This may be true. But tiger moms also create scars that will never heal. Many Asian children drop all contact with their parents as soon as they become independent, a trend that is currently scaring the aging Chinese population. Many Asian teens suffer from low self-esteem, depression, and anxiety.

I'm not saying that tiger moms are wrong. They look at western mothers, particularly the ones that let their children eat junk food and watch tv all day, and say "look how much better I am at raising my child!" They watch their child "succeed" in their terms and are proud of their work. And who can blame them? Having a child grow up and become a surgeon is an accomplishment. But I think there must be a middle-ground somewhere. Having children gain successful jobs without the low self-esteem would be an accomplishment. The method though, is still unnamed.

Bunnies, Jesus, and Bloodthirsty Pagans Oh My?

Ask a Christian what Easter is. Go ahead. I bet you that most likely they will tell you something along the lines of: Easter is a holiday celebrating the resurrection of Jesus.
....oh and there's a bunny. And colored eggs too.

What?

Somewhere along the lines information just got skewed. So now we celebrate a zombie by painting eggs and watching a creepy guy in a giant bunny costume encourage children to eat chocolate.

It wants to eat your soul.

So where did it all come from? Why is there a bunny? What the hell is with the unnatural eggs? What does this have to do with Jesus? And why is it called Easter?

Lets start with cutting the crap.

The original date of Easter can be traced all the way back to pre-christian origins, in old Germany. Anglo-Saxon tribes would celebrate the vernal equinox (also known as the spring equinox, which this year, is only four days before Easter) by placing seeds on an altar and having feasts. This was to praise the goddess, Eostre.

"Woah woah woah" say my Christian friends, "I know this one."

Staying true to their roots, some modern Christians, determined to show how terrifying pre-christian religions are, know this tale about Eostre.
"The bare-breasted goddess Eostre is fabled to have descended from a painted eggshell. She was the goddess of fertility. Her symbol, the rabbit.
She required the sacrifice of infants. The people who worshiped her killed babies and dunked white eggshells in their blood. This is where we get painting eggs from. So when you paint your little eggs, you're symbolizing slaying children."

...not quite. Lets break down some facts and some fiction.

All that we know about Eostre is from Temporum Ratione or The Reckoning of Time by the Northumbrian monk and scholar the Venerable Bede (673-735). In it, all we find is that Eostre is the spring fertility goddess that was celebrated during this time of year (in fact the month was called "Eostremonat" or Eostre's month), and that feasts were held for her on the vernal equinox.

Thats it.
There's no descending from an eggshell, no rabbits, and certainly no killing of babies to dye eggs.

In fact there's no bunnies or eggs at all.

Unfortunately, there's as much anti-Eostre+bunnies and eggs as there is pro-Eostre+bunnies and eggs. So if you look up Eostre, most likely you'll get some cutesy tale about the rabbit being Eostre's familiar, and that her rabbits delivered eggs to the poor animals that couldn't reproduce. But that's not based in historical stories either.

So where did the bunnies and eggs come from?
Much like Eostre, everything celebrated in the spring represented fertility. People wanted lots of crops, lots of food, and lots of babies.

Just so they could grow up to be haunted by the Easter bunny. The plastic ones already have terror in their eyes.

So when thinking of something to symbolize such *ahem* productivity, the first symbol that came to mind was, you guessed it, the rabbit. Because well, the saying does go "breed like rabbits". So our first springtime symbol is the rabbit.

The egg is fairly similar. Eggs symbolized new life and fertility, not only for the Anglo-Saxons, but also for the Egyptians, Persians, and Romans.

So isn't there anything Christian about Easter origins?
Actually, yeah. Lets go back to the egg. In Medieval Europe, eggs were forbidden during lent. Eggs laid during that time were either boiled or preserved. So once that was over, eggs became the main part of the meal. And of course Lent gets over on - Easter.

So to get things straight, in order to assimilate Pagans into the Christian faith and to be able to keep celebrating the holiday that they knew and loved, the took Eostre's name, changed it to Easter, kept the rabbits and eggs, and managed to also place it on the end of Pesach.

And now we understand.

Oh my.

Proof that hell has already manifested itself on earth.

ITS A FREAKIN LIGHTNING FILLED TORNADO MADE OUT OF VOLCANIC ASH.

TERRIFYING.

Hitting the Cement Wall, AKA Writer's Block

After a mass hiatus, I've decided to actually write something. For the lack of angry posts: I apologize.
It's not that I am lacking angst. I have angst to spare. It tends to ricochet off of me and cause damage to my surroundings. However- I do have writer's block.
I've attempted to write on several topics, but they either turned out to be un-interesting or they did not turn out at all.
Writer's block is aggravating. It's a nice cement wall that all ideas and words are either blocked in by or smacked into. The few that managed to climb over are beaten, sickly, and need time to recover.
I've read several articles on how to beat writers block. Some of the ideas work for me, others do not. But in order to be helpful, I'll list some that I recommend to my fellow writers.

1. Listen to a song to find inspiration. - This works for me....rarely. Most of the time I can't flip through songs to find inspiration. I have to get it stuck annoyingly into my brain for half the day until I put it on paper in order to remove it from my brain.
   
2. Read/watch the news. - If you like to write about current events, you probably already do this. If not, you shouldn't be writing about current events.
   
3. Read in general. - Seriously. Some of my best idea's bounce off of something that someone else wrote. Call it idea stealing if you will...but it works.
4. Talk to someone else about your half-formed idea. - If you've got an idea started but you don't know where to go with it, tell someone about it. They'll probably have an opinion, and whether you use it or not, that'll probably bring up more opinions of your own.
5. Make a list of potential ideas. - I do this all the time. In fact, that's how this blog started. My list went like this: (warning - I might use these topics later....if I feel like it)

• inspiring people
• neopets (seriously.)
• teen depression and why the hell it's so common nowadays
  
• being lazy
• my lack of a car and why buses in omaha suck
  
• a wish for summer
• why I can't have video games in my dorm
• writer's block (*winner!*)

Since I am a lazy bum, and because it's you who actually reads this crap, I'm gonna ask for your help with my writers block. Give me a topic. I don't care whether it's something useful like "tips on how to beat procrastination" or something as random as "why ninja's are ultimately better than pirates". The best topic presented will be the next thing I write about. So come up with something fun/interesting/random/angry. I'll take it and rant. Good luck!

Thanks to you, I'm a creative weirdo

I've always been a bit of a weirdo.
Okay.
Not just a bit. More like, really really weird.
I would just sit around, making random crap out of godknowswhat, glue/paint/dirt/berries/leaves/legos, and once I had finished I felt extremely accomplished.
I figured one day I'd probably grow out of that.
Nope.
Here I sit, waiting for the earrings I just glazed to dry (which look like various food items), while making a bracelet out of starburst wrappers.

I love to make things. I've been drawing as long as I can remember, and once I discovered the beauty of written words I began writing stories. I gave up making usable objects for a while, but here I am again, making random crap that people may or may not want to wear.

Thing is - I really love it. My hobby of making stuff/drawing stuff/writing stuff: creation. It brings me joy. And today, while sitting in front of my earrings, applying glaze (which smells pretty strong...I might have to blame these thoughts on that glaze...), it occurred to me. I wouldn't have been drawing/writing/making if not for the people that have supported my weirdness. I would have given it up, thinking that it wasn't good enough and that I was wasting my time.

To the friend who said making cupcake earrings was a great idea
to the friend who said she loved my blog posts
to the friend who said the drawing was amazing
to the many many friends who said they wanted to see more
thank you - to my friends that have supported me the most in this crazy year.

By the way: if you're wondering why the uncharacteristically pleasantness is seeping through this post, if you live in nebraska, GO OUTSIDE. ITS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL OUT.
....not needing to wear a jacket just makes me entirely too happy.

Spring Break

It's the week before spring break.
We are tired.
We've been banging our heads against exams and projects and essays, the everyday monotony of worksheets, readings, and practice (for my fellow music majors).
A lot of us are ready to give up.
Some of us already have - with failing grades or just general lack of interest in learning anymore.
Whoever came up with spring break was genius. The students need it. So do the teachers.
In fact, most people in general just need a break during the spring.
Wanna know a "not-so-well-known" fact about spring break?
It's partially here to save your life.
Seriously.
Quite simply, the toll of everyday life tends to really hit people in the springtime. They've been working their asses off, dealing with all the stress that comes along work/college/school/relationships/etc, and when those birds start chirping again something just clicks in their brain.
Like a bullet.
Yup, springtime is actually when the rate of suicides (especially in college students) takes a significant spike.
So seriously,
TAKE A BREAK.
Don't just use spring break to study just as hard, or to take on extra work.
Do yourself a favor, and have some fun.

The sparkling? It's gotta stop.

It's hard nowadays to walk around the mall without seeing a pre-pubescent girl wearing a shirt that exclaims in bold letters: "I LOVE VAMPIRES!" I watch them walk out of "build-a-bear", texting furiously on their new Droid that their mommy got them to go with their new purse, which no twelve year old really needs. I sigh. What happened to vampires that made them desirable for the next generation of bimbos? Twilight happened.
Now, don't get me wrong. When I was in middle school, the Twilight books were THE SHIT. All of the poor, awkward, pre-teens who preferred fantasy books and videogames over sports and spray tans read Twilight. Why? We understood Bella, she was ANYONE (she didn't have too much of a personality to make her much different from anyone else) who didn't quite fit in, and she managed to get the hottest guy in school. What's wrong with that?
Nothing. Really. It was an addictive book series. The plot was easy to follow, the writing was simpler still - but well executed. It was humorous, romantic, and we could connect to it.

But even back when reading Twilight was of the few escapes from the doldrums of middle school, I knew something was just wrong with this book.
Firstly,
Edward is a stalker. There is absolutely no way around this fact. He breaks into Bella's room, several times, and just STARES at her while she sleeps.
Does that sound romantic to you?
What if Joe Blo down the street had a crush on you and decided to do that every night while you slept?
Not so romantic anymore.

Secondly,
There has got to be something wrong with a 100 year old guy dating a 17 year old. Bella's young, stupid, and not exactly experienced. Just because Edward has been stuck in high school for a century does NOT mean he has the mindset of a teen. He most likely has the mindset of a pedophile.

Thirdly,
THEY FUCKING SPARKLE.

Stephanie Meyer managed to take one of the most feared creatures in the history of myths and made it into something akin to the fear of a butterfly.
The myth of the vampire has been around for ages. It has been found in ancient Greece, Rome, India, and many more. These blood-sucking, never aging, undead have terrified and tantalized people for centuries.
We can owe the typical popular vampire to one character: Bram Stoker's Dracula. Dracula was baddass. Seriously. The guy is merciless, seductive, and tries to take over the world - starting with London. Funny thing is - he certainly doesn't look like a 17 year old. He has white hair, pointy ears, and is quite simply - old. He does look younger though when he gets to London, but he's not nearly Twlight-esque.

He's just fucking scary.
Now take Dracula, make him ridiculously handsome, and add existential angst?
Welcome to Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.
We feel Louis' pain as he tries to hold on to his humanity, and eventually gives up on humanity altogether. We love Lestat, even if he is incredibly selfish.
This is where the popular vampire should have stayed. Sexy, powerful, and inhuman. Killing machines who live forever, are freaking terrifying, and burn to death in the sunlight (most of the time).

Not rainbow-sparkly with babies.
See, the thing is - Vampires are awesome. But what the little twelve year olds think are vampires? Not even close.
This is my problem with Twilight. It took the vampire and destroyed it for popular culture, filling the shelves at stores with posters of emasculated skinny-boys proclaiming to be the vampires we once knew and loved. It also caused a whole new genere of teen-books to be written - the romantic vampires-without-balls.

The solution? Next Halloween, get a vampire costume, and SCARE THE CRAP out of little Twilight fans.

Seizure? No, I'm just nervous.

I adore performing. Really, I do. In fact, that's mostly ALL I do. Performing in an orchestra? Not a problem. Playing with a small ensemble? Not a problem. Being the lead in A Midsummer's Night's Dream? Fun times. I have made speeches in front of hundreds, done skits in front of a sold out show, and played my flute in more concerts than I can count.

But soloing?

Soloing is an issue. I don't know what it is about playing my flute in front of an audience that gets me so nervous, but somehow its a completely different experience.
First, my knees start to shake.
Then my hands sweat.
And finally my lip starts to shake and all hope is lost. (You can't really play an instrument that requires sitting on your lip if its shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.)

Most of the time, I can feel when any of these things start to happen. I might look into the audience, or stop focusing on the music and think about my embouchure (aka - the weird way my lips are shaped) and then all the weird shaky craziness commences.
So somehow, in the middle of my performance, I have to do a couple of things. If you do something else, let me know, because I need all the help I can get.

1. Start slow. I have a habit of rushing the beginning when I'm nervous, and when I realize that halfway through the piece, things start breaking down and I end up missing notes.
2. Take a deep breath. Even if it means taking an awkwardly long pause. Because believe it or not, that awkwardly long pause NEVER seems awkwardly long when I listen to the recording.
3. Focus Focus Focus. Whether on the sheet music or my air flow, I can't let myself get distracted. Being a space cadet, this is damn difficult.
4. Realize that its really not that important whether I get the 16th note run perfect, or if I get that uber high note to sound just right. As long as I play as musically as I can, I've done my job.

So here's to breaking a leg, not having a seizure, and having a good time.

"To have a right to do a thing

is not at all the same as to be right in doing it."
-GK Chesterson

For instance. Just because you CAN wear shorts so short that your ass hangs out of them, doesn't mean you should.



PS: Whoever reads my blog from Russia, the UK, Belarus, Italy, and Morocco - I love you. Just so you know.

Inhale, Exhale, Okay I'm still alive.

Sometimes I just need to sit, take a deep breath, and say "It's all gonna be alright."

Oh, and blast songs from He Is We. If you haven't heard them before, go look them up. They're part folk, part pop, and all adorable. It's just one girl doing all the vocals, and one guitar, and one boy doing all the other instruments. They're fantastic. Currently I'm playing their song "Everything You Do" on repeat. Otherwise I'd have to destroy the "rewind, play" buttons.

But really, through mid-terms and my upcoming concert, its surprising that I'm not spending every second of the day stressing out. I'm pretty damn close to being stressed 24/7, but I've managed to realize something I find rather important.

Stressing out, studying an extra 10 minutes, attacking my flute for an extra 30 minutes, it just doesn't help. Its all frantic, and never very productive. So why do it?
So I'll spend that time listening to He Is We, hanging out with the people I care about, and doing whatever the hell I feel like doing. So take that stress.

Are You Talking To Me?

Cell phones are amazing. They let us contact each other over massive distances, at any place, at any time. You can use them to text people one-word answers that are oh-so-important (like OMG LOL), check your email, and even surf the web. They're extremely helpful when you get stranded at the mall because your ride dropped out on you and you need to find a new one, or when you get kidnapped by Cthulhu.

[911? Yes, I'm about to get tentacled by Cthulhu. Yes, its an emergency.]

As much as I love my cell phone and its many functions, there are two things that really get on my nerves.

The first: Getting stuck in a car ride with someone talking on the phone.
If you've ever been in this situation you know how awkward this is. Since my mother is apparently a cell phone-popularity queen, I'm all too familiar with the aggravation of sitting in a long car ride with her talking on the phone the entire way. It doesn't help that all the people that call her only speak in Chinese.
Car rides, whether you are the driver or the rider, can get extremely boring. Unless both of you strike up a decent conversation or turn on the radio, the ride can go from extremely boring to excruciatingly awkward.
When the other person gets a phone call, and that call takes up the entirety of the car ride, the awkward-ness is heightened times twenty. Not only are you un-purposefully eavesdropping on half of a conversation (which never really makes much sense), you can't really ignore them by listening to the radio because you have to turn the radio low or off in order to be polite. You are now stuck in a situation where you cannot talk about anything, cannot listen to anything that makes sense, and must now just lazily stare out the window and hope that the boredom doesn't put you into a vegetative state.
When that phone call happens to be in a different language, its even worse; because then, for all you know, they could be talking about YOU.

The second: Bluetooth.
Okay, don't get me wrong. Bluetooth is genius. You are able to use both hands, while having lengthy conversations with your cousins in New York. It makes talking on the already uber convenient cell phone even more uber convenient.
The problem with Bluetooth is, whether you're the user or someone who happens to look at someone using the Bluetooth, you're going to seem ridiculous.
Why?
If you are using Bluetooth, its rather difficult for others to see that there is a tiny earpiece on your ear (that might be hidden under your hair/a hat), so then you just look like a crazy person talking to yourself.
If you're around someone using a Bluetooth, its really easy to initially think that the person might be talking to you. I can't count how many times I've actually said "hello", or "what?" to a person using Bluetooth around me. After each account though, I stumbled around a few "sorry"s and got extremely red in the face. It's incredibly awkward.

The moral of the story?
Don't get stuck on your Bluetooth with me in the car or I'll sic Cthulhu on you.

Cupcakes and Brain Cells

I would make an angsty rant today. Really, I would. But today has been a ridiculously good day.

Why?

Just like I talked about before in "How to Kill Student Zombification", it is absolutely gorgeous out today. So even though I only got four hours of sleep, I've been able to function better than usual. I didn't have to wear a winter coat for the first time in months, and that just made me want to dance.

Also, during lunch today I went to Jones Bros. Cupcakes at Aksarben Village with two of my buddies. Brilliant. This place is so fun, the design is fresh and modern, and the food is ridiculously good. The cupcakes? Freaking fantastic. Best cupcakes I've ever had. And they all look amazing. Just take a look at the ones I bought for myself and my boyfriend.
Freaking gorgeous. And delicious. Never thought salt on a cupcake would taste good but DAMN, these guys know what they're doing.
So yes, I just did some advertisement...but they deserve it. I know I'll be going back. A lot. (Hopefully I won't get fat.)

Although I'm not actually there, one thing I'm super excited for this week is the TED conference. They always present a lot of really neat stuff in the science field, so I can't wait to see what comes out of it. So far, I've heard of a group of scientists from MIT who've used genetic modification and fiber optics to cure blindness in mice, and are now working on using that to cure Alzheimer's.
Awesome.

So between cupcakes and brain cells, I'm just about as happy as I can get - when I've got a concert staring me in the face (a week from now! AHHHHH!)
I'm just trying to distract myself.
Minimal luck.

A To-Do list (of sorts)

Everyone seems to have a bucket list. You know, things you'd like to do before you die. Most of them involve bungee-jumping, or going to another country.
I prefer a to-do list. Because most of the time, that bucket list just sits in the back of your head and you just mope and groan about it until, viola, you're dead.
A to-do list implies that you're going to get something done, and soon.

So here's my to-do list, which I'm gonna get a jump start on NOW. It includes things I'd like to get done in a week, a month, a year, 5 years, and 10 years. But not in any particular order.

1.Play concert without breaking down from nerves.
2.Pass all classes (preferably with grades above a C!)
3.Take some more classes (and repeat process)
4.Get a better job...preferably one that doesn't make coffee.
5.Obtain car...or learn stick shift.
6.Make decent earrings.
7.Sell decent earrings.
8.Start teaching private flute lessons
9.Take a road trip
10.Record music, and post on youtube
11.Go para-sailing
12.Learn to play guitar/dizi/erhu/sitar/guzheng
13.Learn chinese
14. Learn to cook edible food
15.Move to coastal city
16.Dye hair red/violet (always wanted to try it once!)
17.Get back tattoo (not a tramp stamp DX)
18.Get in better physical shape
19.Try wearing circle lenses
20.Attend He is We/NeverShoutNever concert
21.Try surfing
22.Produce a stage show
23.Visit Japan/Ireland/Scotland/Spain
24.Study in France
25.Finish my freaking novel (or at least update it)
30.Cosplay, and cosplay well.
31.Commute everywhere via rollerblade
32.Publish some writings
33.Trip and miss the ground entirely.

So tell me, whats 0n your to-do list?

Ring Ring Ring

you remind me of dresses and puppies and pretentious dinner parties as you tear your hair out and stomp out the door.

you tell me goodbye, burning eyes streaming acid, and find me 20 minutes later, cowering from your fury (that you swear is simply concerned love, but you can apologize to my door - it doesn't appreciate the dent)

you apologize, a single sorry, and list all the ways in which I am wrong and you are right, and your single sorry spontaneously combusts.

ring, ring, ring

you call to tell me of your conviction, of all my wrongs and all your rights, but all I can think of are dresses and puppies and pretentious dinner parties and the dented door, not to mention all the scars you've dealt to my brain, my confidence, my life that you will never see, never hear, never understand.

ring, ring

I suggest you stop calling, because all I want is a sorry that won't spontaneously combust.

ring,

And you can apologize to my door, too.

One of those [insert time span here]

It's been one of those days.
Weeks.
Months.
Something like that.

What I mean by "one of those" is, I've been feeling like there's entirely too much going on and its all simultaneously hitting me in the face.

Besides the usual (homework, flute practice, work), its midterm season. So there are tests to study for, projects to be done, and concerts to prepare for.

Ah, for those who randomly stumbled upon this blog, or for those "friends" of mine who forgot what the entirety of my life is, I am a music major. This means the majority of my time is spent deciphering music theory and being attached to my flute.

Anyway, add all that crap plus taxes, the lovely FAFSA, and various other paperwork, my life seems rather cluttered.
Which, added onto the clutter of my dormroom, is pretty damn messy.

[something akin to this]

So, in order to offset all the busy-ness staring me in the face (or smacking me in the face, take your pick), I've decided to go comatose this weekend. Not that I'm actually going to be unconscious, but I'm not gonna work on everything I should, just because if I did, I'd go crazy.

[crazy? I was crazy once.]

Sometimes, we just need a break. So I'm taking one. Monday will roll around, and when it does, I'll be giving my usual 110% percent. But until then.
Consider me on vacation.

"Love is the discovery of ourselves in others,

and the delight at the recognition."
- Alexander Smith

Thank you, chocolate covered fortune cookie. Your sappy quote about love made me feel all warm and squishy inside.

[Mmmm warm squishy insides]

Thoughts on God....and Elvis.

So yesterday, after listening to Counting Blue Cars by Dishwalla (which, by the way, is a fantastic song, I highly suggest it), I had the chorus line get stuck in my head. Which goes:

Tell me all your thoughts on God, cause I'd really like to meet her

I've always loved this line. Being raised between atheistic parents, southern baptist grandparents, and having a random fascination with world religions, I've prayed to male gods, female goddesses, hermaphrodites, even cats.

[ameow?]

So basically, the idea of God being female was no news to me.
But honestly, at the moment all I was thinking was: "this song is really catchy!" when I posted the line as my facebook status.

Apparently, I was the only person who would have read that and thought of Counting Blue Cars. Then again, most normal people don't think of counting blue cars in general unless they're ocd. (Oh, did I just make a joke? I think I did!)

The responding comments were all fairly harmless.
" If she exists, I'd like to know where she came from."
"I'm fairly certain my God is a male figure. If he was a she, we'd all be sandwiches."
"Then its a homo-sexual male figure. What straight male would make all those fish on the reefs, or flowers for that matter, that colorful?"
"Isn't one. End of conversation."

Although no intense philosophical argument was panned out within the confines of my status, it did make me think. Not of whether or not God exists, nor of his/her gender/sexuality.

Quite simply, I re-affirmed my idea that you could make an argument for God being one thing or another with little effort.

For example, God could be an angry black lady.
Or perhaps a giant turtle that holds up the world.
A child with asperger's syndrome.
Elvis Presley.
You.

And the greatest part is? You will never loose the argument. Because no matter what the opposition says, there is absolutely nothing they can say that can prove you wrong. You could say that God is the old Chinese guy who runs the drugstore down the street, they could say that god is their pet fluffy, and there will never be a conclusion.

But for safety's sake, I'm betting on the king of rock-n-roll.

How to kill student zombification

I've noticed something today.

The students that I've been seeing are more cheerful, or more awake (your pick), possibly both, and entirely much more positive than usual.

I looked around.

No random stand handing out cupcakes/anti-depressants/shots of espresso.

Classes have not canceled.

I'm pretty sure I haven't entered the twilight zone.

So what's the deal? I'm used to dragging myself around campus watching other zombiefied students bitch about their lack of sleep/coffee or how much better their day could be.

Then it occurred to me that it wasn't just the people I was observing. I wasn't dragging myself around campus. I have been fairly alert, ridiculously positive, and un-zombiefied.

What magic had taken place on campus?

50 degree temperature. That's all we need. The weather has been fluctuating like a pmsing mother, and now that its warm, but not terribly warm, the general populace has gone into overdrive.

So thank you, weather, for making my day un-zombiefied.

Oh wait, was that not enough angst for you?

Today was fifty degrees out...and tomorrow...it is supposed to snow. SNOW. We finally get all hyped up for spring, we get rid of our coats and finally get to just wear jackets, and tomorrow we get snow.

I don't care whether it stays, or whether it just melts upon contact, but snow means its going to be cold again.

I'm rather sick of the cold.

...I suggest staying inside. Otherwise, prepare your brain for zombification.

And So it Begins

This is my fourth blog. The first died of unnatural causes. The second died before it was born. The third was about music and it flourished...until I decided it was entirely too much effort to keep doing.

So here is the fourth.

Which is not always about music. But will be sometimes.

It will also be about shitty poetry. Books and movies might tag along.

It may also contain some rantings about everyday life, family ties, and the lack of time that I have to write in this blog.

It might get into existentialism, religion, or other ideas that make people angry.

It will contain angst.

And other pretty shiny things.