I'm not sober and the air stinks because the Dismal is burning, let's begin! I forgot to mention, it's 5:40am - as of starting this.
I think government and school system mandated reading levels and parent based suggested reading levels are shit because not everyone reads at the same fucking level. I possibly have more issues with it because when I was a youngin' always read at a high level than whatever grade of school I was in. If people had tried to tell me I wasn't old enough to understand what I was reading, or it wasn't "age appropriate" for me I would have just looked at them like they were an idiot and wondered why they were getting between me and my books. So, thinking back to some of what I read, I started reading the Babysitters Club books when I was in second grade. I read Goosebumps in second and third grade. I was in a reading group in fourth grade and I remember reading A Wrinkle In Time and I think The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe. in sixth grade I picked up The Color Purple and my mom gave me The Scarlet Pimpernel which I read tangentially to The Time-Warp Trio as a nice reading snacklette.
Seventh Grade in class we read Romeo and Juliette, Beowulf, and some others that don't stand out. I read The Fox and the Hound and Watership Down on my own accord that year. Eighth grade we read Animal Farm, To Kill A Mockingbird, and some other things and I was getting into manga, which lead to shounen-ai and yaoi manga before long. The summer between seventh and eighth grade I read the Bounty Trilogy, which I'm sure many would argue was not meant for 14 year-olds.
Ninth grade we read Romeo and Juliette again for some horrid reason, and also Night, Great Gatsby, Maus, Across Five Aprils, Yellow Raft on Blue Water, Catcher in the Rye, Tuesdays with Morrie, I borrowed/took The Invisible Man and some other books. And I read a bunch of things outside of that. Tenth grade was my lowest school inspired reading level and I can't think of anything I was given that stood out for me, aside from Dickens, which I didn't like, and Romeo and Juliette, AGAIN, because my teacher that year should not have been teaching a Pre-IB tenth-grade class. We also read Frankenstein which was a regular 9th grade class book, and we studied world religions which I had learned the previous year in history. One of the few times SLHS faulted me, imo.
Eleventh grade we read Othello, Hamlet, Perfume, The Stranger, and some others. And twelfth grade we read Tess of the D'Urbervilles, and a small number of books because we had to focus for our IB exams. The entire time I read a wealth of books. At some point I read the Abhorsen Trilogy, The Chrestomanci series, Diana Wynne Jones, Tamora Pierce, Eric Jerome Dickey, and a shit ton of dirty, dirty manga. I still read book written above my age and assumed reading level, but if someone had stopped me because they considered what I was reading to be bad for me and above me I would have been very angry. There is one person who did, my mom and only once. The one book she told me not to read was The Color Purple, I was 13 and had read half the book by the time she stopped me. I retaliated by finding and reading other Alice Walker books.
As an adult looking at the books I read did not always understand everything, but I understood a lot more than people assumed I should have. Essentially, books and children's reading levels should be taken on a case-by-case situation.
--
Oh, yeah - the inspiration for this was this dumbbutt article about A Study in Scarlett setting a bad example for children about Mormonism. Being pissy that old literature is hateful and an banning it instead of talking about it is more damanging. This would be like banning all old literature that poorly represents black people or all religions. What about the literature where women were happy homemakers and never got educated? (Note: 50s and 60s era homemakers/making was propaganda. After the war women were all like 'fuck yeah, we don't need to stay in the home' and men were all like 'fuck, I need a job' so marketing firms were all like 'hey, if we make it sound like the last generation had it right, and our current technology [microwaves and such] will make homemaking a breeze, maybe we can encourage women to not leave the home and to raise children. If you noticed, it kind of only worked for about one generation, then feminism came back full force and women got lives and the opportunity to choose where they went.)
Point! Making blanket statements on what type of literature of right for all people of a certain age is damaging because not everyone reads at the same level. I currently read books by Hunter S. Thompson and Jonathan Ames and will then roll over and spend some time reading a lower level but not insultingly written book by John Green or JK Rowling. (Well, Rowling a little, she could have challenged vocabularies more) and then happily pic up Warren Ellis or Brian K Vaughn. I slide up and down the cognitive reading scale, I always have. I also spoke with my mother about what I read... Augh, it's so smokey and gross and I'm sleepy. Banning and preventing people from reading something because it stereotypes and puts people into a box of misinformation is not the way. Attempting intelligent discourse and educating is the way. I mean, the depiction of Germans in almost everything is abysmal, all because one dude was a power-crazed dick. Then black people, the happy servants. It has been banned as a black mark on history, but it's not entirely gone, the level of presenting the old stereotypes has changed but not been eradicated. Pretty much anyone who isn't a WASP gets the shaft, but literature prevales because there are more important things to consider and discuss because education and understanding can be born from a lack of information, only if people are diligent and work to better inform the masses. (finished 6:20am)
Jasmine P.
August 19, 2011
July 6, 2011
Intelligent Artists?
Firstly, I'm far from saying that artists aren't intelligent, I mean we take ownership over mother fucking Leonardo da Vinci. Hell, I think I heard more often he was an artist than a scientist, musician, anatomist, geologist, inventor, cartographer, writer or botanist. What I'm asking is why do people who call themselves 'artists' knock the rest of their intelligence?
My 'facts' for this 3:00am rant-essay, ransay, ranssay, essant? Essant. My 'facts' for this essant come from my classes. I've heard time and time again that 'writing is hard'. Why? Why do people who prefer to create visually automatically discount their ability to think critically? Why does it seem to be a given that just because you create that you can't question the world around you? We can critique one another and fine our faults with various eras of art history, but why do people who call themselves 'art majors' think that they can't write? Why is thinking analytically magically not something that contemporary art students think they can't do, or is that just at my school?
Looking into art history Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni (the Ninja Turtle) was an engineer, poet, architect, painter and sculptor. Zhang Heng was a scholar of hiatory, poetry, philosophy, mathematics, cartography, geography and an artist. Mikhail Vasilyevich Lomonosov was a scientist, artist, studied optics, philology and mineralogy. Thomas Jefferson was a musician, lawyer architect, naturalist, botanist and inventor. These people created and studied the sciences, why can't modern artist be analytical in ways other than creating?
I ask this because, yes, I did start college by taking biology courses, biology makes sense to me. Writing is easy, I mean look at the essants I have on this blog, they may be typo ridden, but every now and again I have a poetic turn of phrase or an interesting way to re-express an idea. It's disparaging enough as a creative who has a weird combination of vanity and low self-esteem in relation to the things I create, but I rarely doubt my true intelligence or the things I can do. I fear failing so I don't always want to go out on a limb, but I have a ton of passive-aggressive issues which still don't excuse why I haven't been more out going. I know I can write, I have few problems with writing or knowing how to write and put together a more or less cohesive idea. I think it discouraging when I hear from faculty that they don't expect their art students to be able to write.
Words are power. Having an average or even moderately above average grasp of language can help your argument, it can never hurt your argument because if you can think up you know enough below it to talk to anyone. Then there's the issue of knowing when to exercise one word or another, but that's being sociable and knowing how to read people. Having a strong grasp of vocabulary as someone who creates things and put them out for the world to see and critique is important because you have better ways to explain yourself when it comes time to hear from the artist.
I don't think that faculty should accept substandard writing from art majors. Why should someone who can throw some crap together as a sculpture, or mix some pigments together on a canvas get a pass at things outside of their educational focus? I find aspects of education to be incredibly irritating, but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing for me to try to learn something new, to push my boundaries. I have few classes I honestly didn't enjoy. I understand biology and find it to be incredible fascinating. Plants are amazing machines this planet takes for granted. Philosophy and sociology are great at finding other ways to convey a complex concept in words of iconography. History is the story of the winner, but digging deeper or to the side you can find the losers and the people stepped on in the annals of history, these give a more human connection to things that seem to have just been a government lead period of time. English and language courses give you the words, the opportunity, to connect with more people. With the little bit of Spanish I was taught (notice I said taught and not learned) I learned a bit about a different culture. How a language is used in different countries, how honorifics or person change to be respectful help me to consider different things when I'm out in the world. I may use a rude tense in Spanish every now and again, but I'll apologize because I realize I used the wrong one and cannot remember the correct one.
Having an art only education is faulty and not expecting students to know anything outside of what they want to do with their lives is a pitfall in our society. Yes, sometimes I do just want to take studio classes, get my degree and be done with school, but I am grateful for all of my classes. Having my thoughts and ideas challenged, strengthening my lexicon so I'm a more verbose person has been a good thing. I think that students in the arts should spend more time writing, looking up more words and understanding how to make language their bitch because a painting can sometimes only go so far. Words are an easy sign of intelligence, by not accepting this, you're putting you into a smaller box, making it more difficult for your point to get across.
Artists, don't fear words, make them your friends. Don't fear questioning the world around you. You're doing it already, why else would Duchamp turn a urinal on it's side, or Picasso affix handle bars to a bike seat? These are their ways of challenging convention and what people think the world should be. The Surrealists questioned perception of the world and contorted it, in their own way they were analyzing the world that could be. Every piece you make is a way of questioning the world around you, you just need to accept this and accept that you are being analytical, even if you think not.
Scientists study the world we've been given and share what they understand. Artists study the world we've been given and pus that idea further by questioning why it isn't different from what we have and show their results. Both study the world.
Jasmine P.
My 'facts' for this 3:00am rant-essay, ransay, ranssay, essant? Essant. My 'facts' for this essant come from my classes. I've heard time and time again that 'writing is hard'. Why? Why do people who prefer to create visually automatically discount their ability to think critically? Why does it seem to be a given that just because you create that you can't question the world around you? We can critique one another and fine our faults with various eras of art history, but why do people who call themselves 'art majors' think that they can't write? Why is thinking analytically magically not something that contemporary art students think they can't do, or is that just at my school?
Looking into art history Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni (the Ninja Turtle) was an engineer, poet, architect, painter and sculptor. Zhang Heng was a scholar of hiatory, poetry, philosophy, mathematics, cartography, geography and an artist. Mikhail Vasilyevich Lomonosov was a scientist, artist, studied optics, philology and mineralogy. Thomas Jefferson was a musician, lawyer architect, naturalist, botanist and inventor. These people created and studied the sciences, why can't modern artist be analytical in ways other than creating?
I ask this because, yes, I did start college by taking biology courses, biology makes sense to me. Writing is easy, I mean look at the essants I have on this blog, they may be typo ridden, but every now and again I have a poetic turn of phrase or an interesting way to re-express an idea. It's disparaging enough as a creative who has a weird combination of vanity and low self-esteem in relation to the things I create, but I rarely doubt my true intelligence or the things I can do. I fear failing so I don't always want to go out on a limb, but I have a ton of passive-aggressive issues which still don't excuse why I haven't been more out going. I know I can write, I have few problems with writing or knowing how to write and put together a more or less cohesive idea. I think it discouraging when I hear from faculty that they don't expect their art students to be able to write.
Words are power. Having an average or even moderately above average grasp of language can help your argument, it can never hurt your argument because if you can think up you know enough below it to talk to anyone. Then there's the issue of knowing when to exercise one word or another, but that's being sociable and knowing how to read people. Having a strong grasp of vocabulary as someone who creates things and put them out for the world to see and critique is important because you have better ways to explain yourself when it comes time to hear from the artist.
I don't think that faculty should accept substandard writing from art majors. Why should someone who can throw some crap together as a sculpture, or mix some pigments together on a canvas get a pass at things outside of their educational focus? I find aspects of education to be incredibly irritating, but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing for me to try to learn something new, to push my boundaries. I have few classes I honestly didn't enjoy. I understand biology and find it to be incredible fascinating. Plants are amazing machines this planet takes for granted. Philosophy and sociology are great at finding other ways to convey a complex concept in words of iconography. History is the story of the winner, but digging deeper or to the side you can find the losers and the people stepped on in the annals of history, these give a more human connection to things that seem to have just been a government lead period of time. English and language courses give you the words, the opportunity, to connect with more people. With the little bit of Spanish I was taught (notice I said taught and not learned) I learned a bit about a different culture. How a language is used in different countries, how honorifics or person change to be respectful help me to consider different things when I'm out in the world. I may use a rude tense in Spanish every now and again, but I'll apologize because I realize I used the wrong one and cannot remember the correct one.
Having an art only education is faulty and not expecting students to know anything outside of what they want to do with their lives is a pitfall in our society. Yes, sometimes I do just want to take studio classes, get my degree and be done with school, but I am grateful for all of my classes. Having my thoughts and ideas challenged, strengthening my lexicon so I'm a more verbose person has been a good thing. I think that students in the arts should spend more time writing, looking up more words and understanding how to make language their bitch because a painting can sometimes only go so far. Words are an easy sign of intelligence, by not accepting this, you're putting you into a smaller box, making it more difficult for your point to get across.
Artists, don't fear words, make them your friends. Don't fear questioning the world around you. You're doing it already, why else would Duchamp turn a urinal on it's side, or Picasso affix handle bars to a bike seat? These are their ways of challenging convention and what people think the world should be. The Surrealists questioned perception of the world and contorted it, in their own way they were analyzing the world that could be. Every piece you make is a way of questioning the world around you, you just need to accept this and accept that you are being analytical, even if you think not.
Scientists study the world we've been given and share what they understand. Artists study the world we've been given and pus that idea further by questioning why it isn't different from what we have and show their results. Both study the world.
Jasmine P.
May 6, 2011
My Life: Different From What I'd Expected
Many adults at some point realize their life isn't what they had expected it would be when they were kids. I was blind, in a sense, to what my life would be come. Everyone is, the adventure wouldn't be much fun if we know what we'd be doing or where we'd go from the beginning, the exploration and adventure aren't the spice of life, they are life.
Few people expect their parents to die when they're young. It's not the misconception that people never die, it's more that it's something to worry about in the distant future. My mom was a rock of strength, goal and a guide for my life. I figured I'd live how I wanted, but at the same time doing what she wished of me. I'm not who she thought I'd be, but I don't think she'd completely disapprove of who I am.
My life is interesting, the people I meet are all pretty damn great. I'm quiet, until I've decided I'm comfortable with people, I'm not always who people first think I'm going to be. I dress relatively conservatively, I don't flash a lot of skin, I never wear make-up, I wear a hat and headphones constantly. I could be considered anti-social with how much time I spend with my nose in a book or hunched over my sketchbook or being my laptop, but I'm not. I'm bright, I light up when people I like are around. People seem to put up with me. I'm brash and aggressive, and I have a variety of friends who have seen so many different aspects of who I am it's weird to think about how differently they all perceive me.
I spend time watching and judging before I actually interact with anyone. I'll judge, not in a hateful way (unless they seem like a prick) but so I know how to act around different people. People I met my freshman year of college wouldn't expect me to drink and smoke. Well, they'd accept the drinking, but the type of person I am, I don't seem to be the club type. I'm not, I'm the hang out and have a new experience type. I want to explore and try something new while I can. It's a special person who can put up with me or even wants to exert the energy to try to put up with me. I don't know. My life is not what I would have expected it to be, but in a way it's exactly what I knew it would be.
I think I lost some of the feeling I initially want to go for with this, and that's alright because I'm happy with my life. I hit fucked up depressions and hate everything, but I have different people for different types of conversations who can and will help me.
Jasmine P.
Few people expect their parents to die when they're young. It's not the misconception that people never die, it's more that it's something to worry about in the distant future. My mom was a rock of strength, goal and a guide for my life. I figured I'd live how I wanted, but at the same time doing what she wished of me. I'm not who she thought I'd be, but I don't think she'd completely disapprove of who I am.
My life is interesting, the people I meet are all pretty damn great. I'm quiet, until I've decided I'm comfortable with people, I'm not always who people first think I'm going to be. I dress relatively conservatively, I don't flash a lot of skin, I never wear make-up, I wear a hat and headphones constantly. I could be considered anti-social with how much time I spend with my nose in a book or hunched over my sketchbook or being my laptop, but I'm not. I'm bright, I light up when people I like are around. People seem to put up with me. I'm brash and aggressive, and I have a variety of friends who have seen so many different aspects of who I am it's weird to think about how differently they all perceive me.
I spend time watching and judging before I actually interact with anyone. I'll judge, not in a hateful way (unless they seem like a prick) but so I know how to act around different people. People I met my freshman year of college wouldn't expect me to drink and smoke. Well, they'd accept the drinking, but the type of person I am, I don't seem to be the club type. I'm not, I'm the hang out and have a new experience type. I want to explore and try something new while I can. It's a special person who can put up with me or even wants to exert the energy to try to put up with me. I don't know. My life is not what I would have expected it to be, but in a way it's exactly what I knew it would be.
I think I lost some of the feeling I initially want to go for with this, and that's alright because I'm happy with my life. I hit fucked up depressions and hate everything, but I have different people for different types of conversations who can and will help me.
Jasmine P.
May 2, 2011
I Have Witnessed History
Everyone has witnessed something momentous in their lifetimes, but a part of me feels this is something I should say now.
I'm 22, going on 23, I've been alive during many historic moments, I turned 1 the day the Berlin Wall fell, I was in school or daycare when the OJ Simpson trial happened, I heard Bil Clinton say "I did not have sexual relations with this woman" a million times on the news but I wasn't aware of that. I've been alive when things happened in other countries that were big and I'm still just looking into these events.
I became much more socially aware when a few kids shot of their high school when I was still in elementary school. A few years later religious radicals took down the World Trade Center. I was in seventh grade in the middle of class and kids were being pulled from school by their parents. I don't remember if my day officially ended early, or if I just went home with barely whispered rumors filling in what happened. It's the only thing that was on television that afternoon, it stopped America in it's tracks. People fretted and mourned, there was chaos and confusion. The Pentagon had been hit (between few and several) miles from where I was in school, from where I lived.
At some point there were the DC snipers and Bush sent troops West to find and destroy Al-Qaeda. The troops stayed West and things happened. I apparently wasn't all that aware if I can't tell you what happened for about 6 years, school happened an my mother died things I remember but don't make history. Someone attempts to destroy the British Underground, but doesn't quite succeed. Gay marriage is an important political topic of discussion and wed is decriminalized. I'm older and go off to college and vote for the first time and a black man becomes President of the United States of America, something that has always been possible but somehow not plausible for Americans to accept.
An oil spill fucks over the environment and the oppressed rise up over dictatorships and the nation stops when the celebrities die but that last has always happened. The earth itself rises up to remind humanity that they are not the greatest and that superficial differences ought be forgot and people send aid to New Orleans, Haiti and Japan. Racism is alive and well in America, even as people act like old racist symbols aren't racist, but they totally are. I'm focused on my non historic finals and classes when Osama Bin Laden is taken out.
In ten years, a few months shy of the 10th Anniversary of the WTC going down the man we were told was pretty much Enemy Number One has been killed. The nation revels in the death of one, someone who has been Othered to the point of being a concept and less a person. I can say I heard the information, then went to sleep. I think this is something that people need a moment to absorb, things are going to be interesting for a minute. I don't know. I just wrote this. Maybe I'll continue to write about historic moments when they happen, but you really don't know if something will be big until it's been years, but I think that waiting hours is fair for something like this.
Jasmine P.
I'm 22, going on 23, I've been alive during many historic moments, I turned 1 the day the Berlin Wall fell, I was in school or daycare when the OJ Simpson trial happened, I heard Bil Clinton say "I did not have sexual relations with this woman" a million times on the news but I wasn't aware of that. I've been alive when things happened in other countries that were big and I'm still just looking into these events.
I became much more socially aware when a few kids shot of their high school when I was still in elementary school. A few years later religious radicals took down the World Trade Center. I was in seventh grade in the middle of class and kids were being pulled from school by their parents. I don't remember if my day officially ended early, or if I just went home with barely whispered rumors filling in what happened. It's the only thing that was on television that afternoon, it stopped America in it's tracks. People fretted and mourned, there was chaos and confusion. The Pentagon had been hit (between few and several) miles from where I was in school, from where I lived.
At some point there were the DC snipers and Bush sent troops West to find and destroy Al-Qaeda. The troops stayed West and things happened. I apparently wasn't all that aware if I can't tell you what happened for about 6 years, school happened an my mother died things I remember but don't make history. Someone attempts to destroy the British Underground, but doesn't quite succeed. Gay marriage is an important political topic of discussion and wed is decriminalized. I'm older and go off to college and vote for the first time and a black man becomes President of the United States of America, something that has always been possible but somehow not plausible for Americans to accept.
An oil spill fucks over the environment and the oppressed rise up over dictatorships and the nation stops when the celebrities die but that last has always happened. The earth itself rises up to remind humanity that they are not the greatest and that superficial differences ought be forgot and people send aid to New Orleans, Haiti and Japan. Racism is alive and well in America, even as people act like old racist symbols aren't racist, but they totally are. I'm focused on my non historic finals and classes when Osama Bin Laden is taken out.
In ten years, a few months shy of the 10th Anniversary of the WTC going down the man we were told was pretty much Enemy Number One has been killed. The nation revels in the death of one, someone who has been Othered to the point of being a concept and less a person. I can say I heard the information, then went to sleep. I think this is something that people need a moment to absorb, things are going to be interesting for a minute. I don't know. I just wrote this. Maybe I'll continue to write about historic moments when they happen, but you really don't know if something will be big until it's been years, but I think that waiting hours is fair for something like this.
Jasmine P.
April 28, 2011
Summer Zombies
As the school year rounds comes to a close for college students the zombies are out and about again. The spindly claws of summer reach into the class rooms to drag students away from their studies, keep them up all night drinking and carousing until the small hours of the morning and spitting them out to wobble to class and finals in the morning. Students long to wile away their hours at the oceanfront, sunning themselves on the beach and cooling off in the water instead of cramming facts about 20th century painters or mathematical equations for their impending finals that they are veering into. Time progresses and students gleefully flee their dorms and apartments with summer properly started they are free.
They are free until August when summer isn't quite over but school drags them back. They go from staying up all night, sleeping all day, drinking when they please and working at some point to having to get up early in the morning, just shy of an hour from when they would go to bed. They lumber to class, dragging sun blistered and tan bodies into the air conditioned buildings with the bright summer sun outside to mock them. As the weather turns cool and ultimately cold they fall into the rut of school sleeping habits which are minimal as opposed to the excessive hours of rest from summer. They're wired of caffeine for class and work, running to and fro until winter break, a month to hibernate, the beaches are too cold to sleep on anymore. They lust and dream for summer, for the two weeks of being a zombie with the tantalizing warmth paying the Pied Piper luring them outside once more. The vicious cycle seems to never end, but the cycle breaks when graduation arrives and jobs with a yearly salary arrive and work happens all year round. The new graduates lust for the school cycle of work and rest, narcolepsy and insomnia in a yin yang harmony that drives them insane, but is a rote and comfortable track to follow.
Jasmine P.
They are free until August when summer isn't quite over but school drags them back. They go from staying up all night, sleeping all day, drinking when they please and working at some point to having to get up early in the morning, just shy of an hour from when they would go to bed. They lumber to class, dragging sun blistered and tan bodies into the air conditioned buildings with the bright summer sun outside to mock them. As the weather turns cool and ultimately cold they fall into the rut of school sleeping habits which are minimal as opposed to the excessive hours of rest from summer. They're wired of caffeine for class and work, running to and fro until winter break, a month to hibernate, the beaches are too cold to sleep on anymore. They lust and dream for summer, for the two weeks of being a zombie with the tantalizing warmth paying the Pied Piper luring them outside once more. The vicious cycle seems to never end, but the cycle breaks when graduation arrives and jobs with a yearly salary arrive and work happens all year round. The new graduates lust for the school cycle of work and rest, narcolepsy and insomnia in a yin yang harmony that drives them insane, but is a rote and comfortable track to follow.
Jasmine P.
April 25, 2011
Conteplating my mother
This was initially a response to a comment about needing to be Christian to understand the Bible, and my disagreement with that idea. I ended up drifting to thoughts about my mother instead.
"I decided religion stopped making sense for me when I was about 12, but I kept trying. When my mother died when I was 18, she was "taken home" or "God needed her" or whatever platitudes people tried to give me, they never worked. I decided that her death was for the best because her last 3 months sucked. She was in pain and stuck in a hospital. She loved more things than I can and I aspire to be someone she would be proud of, even if I don't have her religious conviction. She wasn't crazy devout, but she would actively go to church just about every Sunday. She also went out to clubs on Fridays or Saturdays, and gambled. She helped those who were less fortunate than we, and she prayed. She also cursed like a sailor. She was human.
Sorry, I'm dealing with mourning, she died on April 28th, I try to get through April every year and it kicks my ass. Upside, I did smile while thinking about my mom and sharing this. She was a good person and literally gave a homeless woman the coat off her back one day because the woman needed it and my mom had plenty of coats. Sh was good to people and children, I think that even without God she would have been that person. She had her dark streaks, but who doesn't. For me, God 'needing' my mom was bullshit, I didn't consider myself to be an 18 year old who didn't need her mom. She was never abusive and the things that I was mad at her about were not worth her dying. I made it through her funeral and the time after with science as my explanation and not religion which gave me shitty answers."
Jasmine P.
"I decided religion stopped making sense for me when I was about 12, but I kept trying. When my mother died when I was 18, she was "taken home" or "God needed her" or whatever platitudes people tried to give me, they never worked. I decided that her death was for the best because her last 3 months sucked. She was in pain and stuck in a hospital. She loved more things than I can and I aspire to be someone she would be proud of, even if I don't have her religious conviction. She wasn't crazy devout, but she would actively go to church just about every Sunday. She also went out to clubs on Fridays or Saturdays, and gambled. She helped those who were less fortunate than we, and she prayed. She also cursed like a sailor. She was human.
Sorry, I'm dealing with mourning, she died on April 28th, I try to get through April every year and it kicks my ass. Upside, I did smile while thinking about my mom and sharing this. She was a good person and literally gave a homeless woman the coat off her back one day because the woman needed it and my mom had plenty of coats. Sh was good to people and children, I think that even without God she would have been that person. She had her dark streaks, but who doesn't. For me, God 'needing' my mom was bullshit, I didn't consider myself to be an 18 year old who didn't need her mom. She was never abusive and the things that I was mad at her about were not worth her dying. I made it through her funeral and the time after with science as my explanation and not religion which gave me shitty answers."
Jasmine P.
Finals Week Dreams
DREAM!!!
Saturday Afternoon
I had a dream last night that started off with me going to the amusement park, I think Busch Gardens, with my brothers, cousin and somebody else. At one point a ride I was on broke in an odd way to instead of us flying to our deaths thy just run the ride in reverse which was pretty damn fun.
At a later part of the dream I’ve apparently made it into Harvard, or something, and I’m talking with a teacher and explain how much harder and more I need to prove myself because I’m black and I’m from middle class America. Apparently I violently threatened someone; someone else was a stoner; and I ended the day happy with myself but apparently with no friends there , which was all right.
I dream the weirdest shit sometimes…
--
Monday morning
Another dream!
I was hanging out in Maryland with some people, one dude was kinda creepy. It’s been like 5 hours since I dreamed this, this part was boring. The entire time we keep hearing a new story about a mongoloid 6 year-old (sorry for the PC police, I can’t think of a better way to describe this kid) who’s been killing construction drivers with a pick axe. I’m driving home on Reston Parkway but it looks a bit more like Fairfax Co. Parkway when a trick is stopped in the middle of the road, I turn and break to not hit it and my car kind of gets stick under it. The 6 yo sees me, he just killed the driver who’s still burbling blood with the giant pick axe stuck in his neck. The kid is bloody, leaves the axe and tries to attack me, I’m pinned in my car and the window is open. I kind of deflect him with a trash can that I could reach through the window that had fallen off the truck. He gets up, I try to get out of the car but I’m stuck; the kid gets an axe and attacks me, I try swatting at him and wake up actually moving my arms.
It sucked balls.
----
I am stressed like fuck, this second dream was so damn terrible.
Jasmine P.
February 16, 2011
Why Hating on Valentine's Day is Stupid
Every February singles across America are bitter because they don't have that "one special someone" to lavish them with love, or to lavish with love. They're bitter because they feel as if the world has taken up arms against their singleness so they hate love, they hate positivity and they decide to hate their friends who happen to be in a romantic relationship. I happen to find that whole mindset to be ignorant, spiteful and stupid.
It's common enough knowledge around these here parts that I am single and I have never had a boyfriend. I've written a few times over the years about relationships, some things positive and some negative. I've also written about love a few times. Those last two overlap but whatever. My point is I'm single and I've been bitter about it, but Valentine's Day doesn't really make me bitter. I'm indifferent because I don't really need to lean that far one way or the other.
It's also stupid for people who are single to pine, cry, and rage about Valentine's Day when conversations like "Worst Valentine's Gifts Ever" get written, every fucking year. Or how about "Valentine's Dos and Don'ts" And to manipulate people there are lists such as "Gifts for Every Woman in Your Life". People who are single take for granted all of this shit, I read it and make a confused face and laugh at the stupidity. Why is it also looked at as the ma's responsibility to make Valentine's Day "perfect"? We're I able to I'd wine and dine my fella because I'd want to.
Going back to single-bitterness, people have taken to calling February 14 "Singles Awareness Day". I feel sorry for these people because they can't accept everything else they have in their lives. I don't have A Significant Other, I have many Significant Others, I generally call them 'friends' because that creeps all of us out a bit less. On a given week I interact with anywhere between 20-50 people who worry about me, who notice when they haven't seen me in a while, who like to see me. Since last February I've made around ten new friends to hang out with, I've added a shit ton of Facebook friends, but that's different, and I feel loved.
I feel loved because I don't sit around waiting for one person to tell me they care about me. I'm not waiting for one person to buy me flowers and candy, to take me out to dinner or to stay in watching some delightfully terrible movie because why should I put everything into one person? That's too much stress and responsibility, it's ridiculous.
People say Valentine's Day makes them aware of how tragically alone they are; that's every fucking day. Think passively about the last movie you watched, just about any genre, there's a male and female lead, they hate each other, then love each other, have a falling out then they get back together before the credits roll. Action movie: the action hero/ine rescues someone else and the victim they rescued falls madly in love with them half way through the movie, there are some sloppy make outs, maybe a fade to black sex scene and finally they walk hand in hand into the sunset after the victim's been saved one last time. Romanctic comedy (I can't remember the last movie that was just a romance without needing the poorly handled comedy) Super hot really successful woman meets super hot/moderately hot/seriously unattractive and unsuccessful man who teachers her how to live and love life again, they have a falling out over something she initially found endearing, they realize they can't live with one another so they gt back together. Credits. The comedy, male lead living a mediocre life meets super hot chick and cracks jokes about the main plot and some how gets his life entwined with hers, but not before they break it off for like a movie-day then get back together, a few more jokes and credits.
And it just keeps going on, many movies have a lead and their romantic counterpart and it's generally the same up and fucking down and people get pissed off because one day celebrates relationships. I'm more irritated that I have to deal with some hamfisted, unrealistic romantic relationship in my action movie instead of seeing more explosions, more trains crashing into each other and more monsters getting their asses handed to them. No, in the middle of the fight the leads realize this may be their last or their only chance to tell each other they love them, so movie time slows to like...30 seconds movie time equals 2 minutes real time, so their liplock is on DBZ levels and how fucking long has this been going on.
I'm not lying when I say I wouldn't want to wake up in the morning with someone else in my bed or that I don't want someone else to think about me all the time, but I'm not going to hate other people or a holiday just because I don't have any one else. I have many people. Hell, on Monday I walked around campus giving holographic dinosaurs, temporary tattoos and candy to people. I gave them to people who said they hated Valentine's Day, and they told me I made their day better.
Valentine's Day isn't about one person caring about you, it's about anyone caring, it's about knowing that people want you to be happy. I did what I did because I like giving people things, and I wanted candy but I didn't want to eat the entire bag on my own. You know what's amusing? Seeing a 23 year old geek out over a holographic dinosaur that shows it's skeleton. Seeing the 27 year old who has real tattoos try to put a tie-die patterned peace sign on his forehead, or the 19 year old rush to put a creepily disembodied puppy on her wrist. And that people can't resist the delicious taste of a Reese's mini-cup or a Jolly Rancher lollipop. For a moment people forgot that they didn't have a date for dinner and took joy in the kindness of a relative stranger.
I don't know, people put too much stock into one person caring about them that they forget about anybody else around them who notices when they're not there. If you disappeared for even 24 hours and nobody knew where you went, I'm sure at least one person would wonder and be worried. I like to think about all of my relationships more then just thinking about my non-existent romantic relationships
I dunno, I've just never understood the rage and hatred, especially when people in relationships still hate Valentine's Day because they have to make an effort to prove to someone they love them. The hassle it all is because society puts so much into pushing one day of love and compassion that if the 14th sucks then the relationship is destined to fail. You never win it seems, so I'd rather be happy with many, seeing many and enjoying friendships instead of depressed with one and having no one else to spend my time with.
Jasmine P.
It's common enough knowledge around these here parts that I am single and I have never had a boyfriend. I've written a few times over the years about relationships, some things positive and some negative. I've also written about love a few times. Those last two overlap but whatever. My point is I'm single and I've been bitter about it, but Valentine's Day doesn't really make me bitter. I'm indifferent because I don't really need to lean that far one way or the other.
It's also stupid for people who are single to pine, cry, and rage about Valentine's Day when conversations like "Worst Valentine's Gifts Ever" get written, every fucking year. Or how about "Valentine's Dos and Don'ts" And to manipulate people there are lists such as "Gifts for Every Woman in Your Life". People who are single take for granted all of this shit, I read it and make a confused face and laugh at the stupidity. Why is it also looked at as the ma's responsibility to make Valentine's Day "perfect"? We're I able to I'd wine and dine my fella because I'd want to.
Going back to single-bitterness, people have taken to calling February 14 "Singles Awareness Day". I feel sorry for these people because they can't accept everything else they have in their lives. I don't have A Significant Other, I have many Significant Others, I generally call them 'friends' because that creeps all of us out a bit less. On a given week I interact with anywhere between 20-50 people who worry about me, who notice when they haven't seen me in a while, who like to see me. Since last February I've made around ten new friends to hang out with, I've added a shit ton of Facebook friends, but that's different, and I feel loved.
I feel loved because I don't sit around waiting for one person to tell me they care about me. I'm not waiting for one person to buy me flowers and candy, to take me out to dinner or to stay in watching some delightfully terrible movie because why should I put everything into one person? That's too much stress and responsibility, it's ridiculous.
People say Valentine's Day makes them aware of how tragically alone they are; that's every fucking day. Think passively about the last movie you watched, just about any genre, there's a male and female lead, they hate each other, then love each other, have a falling out then they get back together before the credits roll. Action movie: the action hero/ine rescues someone else and the victim they rescued falls madly in love with them half way through the movie, there are some sloppy make outs, maybe a fade to black sex scene and finally they walk hand in hand into the sunset after the victim's been saved one last time. Romanctic comedy (I can't remember the last movie that was just a romance without needing the poorly handled comedy) Super hot really successful woman meets super hot/moderately hot/seriously unattractive and unsuccessful man who teachers her how to live and love life again, they have a falling out over something she initially found endearing, they realize they can't live with one another so they gt back together. Credits. The comedy, male lead living a mediocre life meets super hot chick and cracks jokes about the main plot and some how gets his life entwined with hers, but not before they break it off for like a movie-day then get back together, a few more jokes and credits.
And it just keeps going on, many movies have a lead and their romantic counterpart and it's generally the same up and fucking down and people get pissed off because one day celebrates relationships. I'm more irritated that I have to deal with some hamfisted, unrealistic romantic relationship in my action movie instead of seeing more explosions, more trains crashing into each other and more monsters getting their asses handed to them. No, in the middle of the fight the leads realize this may be their last or their only chance to tell each other they love them, so movie time slows to like...30 seconds movie time equals 2 minutes real time, so their liplock is on DBZ levels and how fucking long has this been going on.
I'm not lying when I say I wouldn't want to wake up in the morning with someone else in my bed or that I don't want someone else to think about me all the time, but I'm not going to hate other people or a holiday just because I don't have any one else. I have many people. Hell, on Monday I walked around campus giving holographic dinosaurs, temporary tattoos and candy to people. I gave them to people who said they hated Valentine's Day, and they told me I made their day better.
Valentine's Day isn't about one person caring about you, it's about anyone caring, it's about knowing that people want you to be happy. I did what I did because I like giving people things, and I wanted candy but I didn't want to eat the entire bag on my own. You know what's amusing? Seeing a 23 year old geek out over a holographic dinosaur that shows it's skeleton. Seeing the 27 year old who has real tattoos try to put a tie-die patterned peace sign on his forehead, or the 19 year old rush to put a creepily disembodied puppy on her wrist. And that people can't resist the delicious taste of a Reese's mini-cup or a Jolly Rancher lollipop. For a moment people forgot that they didn't have a date for dinner and took joy in the kindness of a relative stranger.
I don't know, people put too much stock into one person caring about them that they forget about anybody else around them who notices when they're not there. If you disappeared for even 24 hours and nobody knew where you went, I'm sure at least one person would wonder and be worried. I like to think about all of my relationships more then just thinking about my non-existent romantic relationships
I dunno, I've just never understood the rage and hatred, especially when people in relationships still hate Valentine's Day because they have to make an effort to prove to someone they love them. The hassle it all is because society puts so much into pushing one day of love and compassion that if the 14th sucks then the relationship is destined to fail. You never win it seems, so I'd rather be happy with many, seeing many and enjoying friendships instead of depressed with one and having no one else to spend my time with.
Jasmine P.
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