I Am A Judgemental Scunt

Earlier this week I was having a conversation about inappropriate clothing with some people in my local coffee shop, Borjo, and ultimately realized I am a judgemental scunt when it comes to other people's clothing. In part it's based in my mother's opinion, but it's also about a bit of professionalism. I mean, going to class is baggy messy clothing is one thing, but going to class in pajamas looks like you don't care about how you present yourself, or shorts that are just barely more material than your underoos looks very whorish in my opinion

These are all so fucking unnecessary to wear on a daily basis to classes. It's not really warm, we keep getting cold, wet and rainy days and girls are going to class in these. Going out in shorts that cover so little is unnecessary. There's a time and a place for things like this, and going to class on a daily basis is neither of those. I mean, I've seen more pantyshots than I'd ever care to because people's clothes are stupid small. I mean, why not just go out in your panties, these aren't really covering much. I see girls, sitting in chairs, trying to pull their two inches of 'skirt' or 'shorts' down because their legs are cold or are touching the seat. I mean, really. You don't know who had what on where and you're showing that much leg. It's not like we're at the fucking beach. I think I'd be a little less judgemental if I saw this at the beach. But no, people are going to college classes dressed as if they're tricks.

I think my biggest issue is the lack of professionalism in wearing clothing like this. If I ran a business, I would not take someone seriously if they came into my place of business wearing something like this. Hell, even if it was retail, if someone is coming to me for a job, I want them to dress at least as professional as they need to. Business casual or something similar and not the shortest shorts they can find.

I look at girls around campus wearing this crap and seriously, the first thing I think is that they look like tramps. It leaves so little to the imagination that if I were a guy I wouldn't see the need in talking to someone dressed like this. With someone who dresses like they have some sort of sense there's a challenge. A challenge of getting them out of their clothes, but also the challenge of actually getting to know them. Someone who dresses like this in my eyes, doesn't present themself as someone who really has a lot of self esteem, and therefore has to dress like this beause they want the attention that so little clothing brings.

I'm not saying women should be wearing hemlines to their ankles and to not show any skin ever, but be classy about it. If not classy, dress to be respected, it doesn't always have to be to impress. I have never thought I looked like much more than a bum in what I wear on a day-to-day basis, but hell, I like wearing hat, I bought a new one that looks more 'presentable' so when I talk to professors I don't have a pin that says 'fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck' above my temple. Hell, most days I think I look like a bum, baggy pants, a tee from threadless and a cap. I've overweight and usually cold so I grab a sweatshirt or something in general to cover my arms. When I need to look a bit better, I do. That second photo if from my summer conference, we didn't have to be super dressed up, but I did want to dress nicer than my day-to-day of tee-shirts and apparent gender ambiguity. I'm a function over fashion individual, so yes, I wanted to look a bit nice, but I dislike skirts for the simple reason if I need to haul ass, a skirt is a whore and a half to run in, and if I can help it, you know, it's nice to not give people a chunky-panty-shot as I'm running from a fire or some shit.

All in all, I'm judgemental, and I think most girls on my college campus look like whores on a daily basis. There's a time and a place for short-shorts, but class every day is not one of those places and seriously not one of those times.

Jasmine P.

Higher Education

I don't understand why people complain about where they've ended up for college. It doesn't make me doubt choosing ODU, but I question why other people 'settle' for it. I'm in one of the computer labs on campus and I can hear people complaining about choosing to attend this school. Saying it's 'where you go when you don't get accepted into any other school in Virginia.' What the hell is with that sentiment. If you're not happy here, go the fuck somewhere else. I have had a mostly fantastic experience here. The few short comings have been with my dormitory roommates, and a few faculty members who have made keeping an extra-curricular activity running smoothly on the difficult side.

What I mean is, I was accepted to every school I applied to. I was accepted to Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond and chose not to attend there. I was accepted to George Mason University in Fairfax County, that was too close to home for me. I was also accepted to Hampton University and too turned that school down. I turned down three relatively prestigious schools to come to the not as well known Old Dominion University.

Well, for one, it is a 'university' we have the means to grant students graduate degrees which is pretty fucking special in my mine. This school is apparently a really good school for dentistry. I've had questions about the dental program from my dentist and the technician every time I've gone to get my teeth worked on just about, since I told them I was attending ODU once I graduated from South Lakes HS. I mean, yeah, I ragged on SLHS when I was there, but it was a good school. I was challenged by my International Baccalaureate courses, I enjoyed my environment, but I did overall enjoy SLHS.

Why complain when you did make it somewhere? Be satisfied and transfer if you hate the school so much. I'm in no means saying there are a lot of things I 'love' about ODU, there are plenty of things I find irritating, but I really wouldn't want to be in a different school. I I wasn't at ODU I'd have no Borjo, I might not be fencing, I'd have no Local Heroes, I might not be as into Western comics as I currently am, I'd be an entirely different person. I've also met some awesome people in and around the campus area. But It kind of comes down to I really don't think I'd be happy elsewhere. Maybe that's their issue, they're not happy.They need to find a better coping mechanism than bitching. I mean, when I wrote this we were just barely through our second week of classes, and I think those bitching were freshmen. Not positive on that though.

Jasmine P.

Male Lactation

http://www.thelocal.se/21842.html

I don't understand what the big issue is. This guy wants to stimulate his nipples and breast to see if he can lactate. It is physically possible for men to lactate, and he wants to see if he can build a better, or different relationship with possible future children because women bond better with children due to this early bonding stage. I don't understand the rampant hate that some people have. All in all, it's a scientific experiment, or an experiment, I don't know how 'scientific' is truly is. He wants to try something, and it's not like men can't lactate. I don't understand why people are so aggro about. How it's 'wrong' and shit. If it were truly wrong, men wouldn't have nipples, nor the ability to lactate. If it was 'God's Will' for men not to lactate they'd be flat like a Ken doll. I believe evolution had a reason for this, possibly some time ago men did help feed the children, but then it dropped off, like many things have. Who knows what results this experiment will yield.

Jasmine P.

This, The Day of My Father's Wedding...

Or, 'My Father Has Commitment Issues'

September 5, 2009 was the day my father got married for the third time. The first time was about 27 years ago when he married my mother and sired 3 children. He divorced her about 20 years ago not too long before I turned 1. One of the reasons given for that is 'she spent too much money' it wasn't even a joint account, it was her money, so he had no real place to tell her what she was spending or wasn't spending too much money on.

Some time later my two older brothers and I are in a rhythm of visiting him every other weekend, for two weeks during the summer, and for a few days after Christmas. We spent all major holidays with our mother. Father's Day we'd sometimes switch up the weekends so we could see him, and the same for Mother's Day if it was his weekend, we'd stay with out mother. In this period of time he got married a second time. His new wife could not produce children, so about 9 years ago he adopted a girl from birth, my energetic little sister. He divorced the second wife about 6, 7 years ago, for reasons I either can't remember or haven't been told. I disagreed with it because of my little sister. But he is a dick and does as he pleases.

Two years ago, a few days after my brother's and I buried our dead mother, he and his 'girlfriend' whom my brothers and I have known for maybe 2 years then, announced that he was engaged. We were floored, because that was another year that my father took home the great big golden 'bad fucking timing' award. Yesterday was the culmination of at least two years of being engaged.

---

History done, now onto yesterday and my issues with just many things.

My brothers, Shani and I arrived at the Catholic Church about fifteen minutes early. We first saw our sister who was adorable was passing out programs for the wedding. She was excited to see us like usual. Inside was a mixture of doctors from the Veteran's Affairs hospital in DC, where both my father and Pattie work. There was family, so I said 'hi' to my Titi [diminutive of 'aunt' in spanish. I think it's akin to 'aunty'] and to my Abuela [grandmother]. I saw some of my cousins and some family friends, then there were all of Pattie's family, most of whom I didn't know. Hell, even the ones I've met, I didn't remember. One woman seemed annoyed I didn't remember her, but I met her, once, 5 fucking years ago!!! Over the past 4 gatdamn years I have more important things to remember, such as the nams of people I see daily, information for my classes, my own characters. I have my own life and it's not like I see you all the time.

Adults need to remember that, you see photos of my on my father's desk, or in his house all the fucking time. I only see you when when I go to your house, or to the VA with him which I haven't really done in ten years or so. It's not me being offensive, it's me being a kid and having much more pressing things to think about all the time and not some nurse who works with my father, or some family member who isn't really apart of my family.

We move onto the wedding, which is some sort of condensed Catholic wedding I assume. It was my first Catholic wedding to attend, every other one I've been to has been some sort of Protestant. There's the procession, that's whatever, I applaud like I should. Then Pattie enters, it's the bride's moment. The first time that 99% of the people attending even see the dress. She's all made up and smiling like she's a queen, or a princess. This I decide to take a little issue with due to her age. Let's say she's upside of 50, from what I hear later it's not her first wedding, and she's wearing white. I know she's not a virgin, disgustingly enough I know that. I look at her and thing 'isn't she too old to try and act like she's a princess at her own wedding anymore?' I've been to weddings for grown adults, I was in one, yeah, they looked happy, insanely happy, just not like how they imagine when they're a little kid imagining their wedding. I also think she's too old to be wearing a backless dress, but that's neither here nor there.

We get to the ceremony. Throughout it, I'm wondering what the presiding priest is saying to make them laugh throughout the wedding, but whatever. It's wrong to me every time they say 'Patricia' and the first time it's said I feel that something isn't right. That simply stems from my mother's name having been 'Patricia', she on the other hand hated to be called 'Patty' or any spelling of it, so I could deal with Pattie being called as such. Going through the vows and ceremony and shit I have to start tuning out. I start singing songs in my head to keep my composure. I still am irritated with this because I don't think my father has what it takes to stay married. He may prove me wrong, I don't know, but the vows of longevity and staying together have been broken twice with him. I wonder if they mean anything to him anymore.

I had my usual grievances with being in a Catholic church. The call and response crap, I don't know what to say, I'm not fucking Catholic, like how I'm not fucking Irish [that journal's on LJ] I just dismiss it like I did when I was younger and was forced to go. Huh, go figure, my first time going to a church in the past 2 years was for a wedding, before that, it was for a funeral.

The reception took forever and a day to get to, but there was an open bar. I didn't get drunk, but I did have a LI Iced Tea that was pretty killer. The lunch, was alright, it was really small and I hadn't eaten since 11 the previous night so I wanted food. No real issues with the reception, I was impressed with the MCs Spanish abilities, but I guess he was chosen just for that. The music was a combination of Spanish things and old Motown music. You'd think my father would run out of love songs about the longevity of marriage because he's had to failed marriages to date.

Thinking about it now, I don't know how I feel about the institution of marriage. They say that kids froma single parent household are quick to get married, but that's something that neither of my brother's nor I have really even thought about doing. Yeah, Miguel has a girlfriend, but they've been together for 2 years or so, I haven't heard a tittering about getting married, but I also make it my business to not be around them too much.

The only thing that really came out of this whole sham for me was being able to see my family that I rarely see. And I got to see my sister. I don't think much of this wedding. I doubt the two of them will have kids, my father is still paying my med. insurance, and has to pay child support to Debra I assume, but who knows, he's done stupid things in the past.

Jasmine P.

I am who I say I am

I'm reading the Declaration of Independence for the first time of ever. I just realized, I've studied the creation of this document, but I've never actually read it, or had it read. People talk about what it stands for, and they love the second paragraph, it's not even the first one that has the lines 'We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal...' with all the times we read the Articles of Confederation and the Bill of Rights, I don't understand why I have never really done a unit on the DoI.

This isn't about the Declaration, it's about St. Patrick's Day, actually. Near the end of the document Jefferson brought of Scottish mercenaries that were being hired and I assume sent over to the Colonies. Reading that, I thought of the statement that on St. Patrick's Day, everyone's Irish because I still get those two countries mixed up. The point is, I still don't give a rat's ass about March 15. I will never agree to be Irish. I don't like beer and I don't understand why it's celebrated in America, mixing pot or not, what are American's celebrating. But to my point, I'm not fucking Irish. Not that I know of, who knows what may have gotten into my family generations ago, but I've never considered myself Irish and find the sentiment that on the day some fucker died, people decided to insist that 'everyone' was 'Irish'. I have friends who will insist it to me, and I at them and say 'I'm not fucking Irish' because I don't relate to the 'holiday' at all.

Seriously, after middle school, I didn't care. I will go out of my way to not wear green and I will hit people who think it's cute to pinch me for not wearing green. Friend or unknown. I dunno, I'm tired, I feel a bit on edge and angry. It's now two days in a row I'm only sleeping for three hours, I don't have my sleeping pills, which annoyingly may be the issue, but who the fuck knows. I still have to answer a few questions about a draft of the DoI and the one that we apparently don't know.

Ths who point of this was to say: I'm not fucking Irish. Don't kiss me, because I'm not fucking Irish. I will punch a bitch because I'm not wearing green on a day I don't care about, because I'm not fucking Irish. I fucking hate beer. If it's green, keep it triply far away from me, some thins shouldn't not be a color other than it's 'natural' color.Get away you green, vomiting fucks. But most importantly, I'm not fucking Irish so don't tell me I am. I don't want to be Irish, I want to be me. I don't care about drinking into alcoholic poison levels, and if I did I don't need some arbitrary and idiotic day as an excuse, enough depressing and annoying shit happens on the day t day basis that if I really wanted to drink myself to death, I could for a better reason than fucking being Irish.

I ought to make that shirt 'I'm not fucking Irish, so go the fuck away' or simply 'I'm not fucking Irish'