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.