Every fucking time I have a friend or family tell me that art is an 'easy' degree I want to slap them in the face. For many reading this it's preaching to the preacher but to continue trying to make it on my own or with a tiny group of friends is not easy. I'm not trying to work for a big company, I have my own stories and ideas that are bursting to be released. I'm like a zombie but instead of craving brains and entrails I crave time and paper because I always have ideas. I have ideas I think I can sell, I have ideas that I think people will buy and I have skill and talent, and it's hard. I always want to draw, but I'm always up for social engagements, take tonight for instance: I have my journal comic that I need to continue inking and preparing to upload. I have pages I need to go back to and refine and I need to rescan everything I've scanned/posted so far because days didn't have full shading, but I went to listen to Christian Lander speak instead. Dude was funny and it was a good evening, but I didn't work on my comic. I need it get off the ground so I can start selling my fiction and not just my reality.
What makes art so difficult is that even as I'm laying on my be typing this my fingers are itching to pick up a pencil and draw something, ink something create something anything and I have a million other things I need or want to be working on first. I have offers left and right to create things to sell, which I need to get going on before I forget for one thing, and I have other offers to get my name out there and be published once again in my college newspaper. I want to drop out of college so I can devote more time to comics, but I don't have the money for that. I want to take out a hypothetical loan on my future for now, I'm not going to because there are things I want to improve while I'm in this environment to find ways to make things better. I'm working at getting more of my work known and out places. And art degree is serious and difficult business because of the market. The work isn't especially 'hard' because you're selling what you can do, but it's harder then other jobs because every project is tailor made for whoever you're selling things to or creating things for. I'm taking everything I'm learning now, flipping it on it's head to make it all work for me.
In doing all this I talk big. People tell me I sound like I know what I'm doing. I don't, I'm fucking terrified. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to move home, that I'm going to fail and I'll just keep dreaming that I made it in comics and sequential art. I'm also terrified that I'll succeed, I'll make comics that people like, I'll have fans and people will want to buy every stupid thing I draw. I also fear staying in the middle, being known to a handful of people and selling some things, but spending most of my time in some horrible office job were people didn't know I spent my night and weekends creating comics and my life ever got better.
These ideas keep me from picking up a pen and being jealous of everyone who has made it. It also inspires me to grab hold of a pen even sooner so I can prove my worth and get my foot in the door. I want to be known, but I'm afraid of what I have to do to get to that point. That time comes every night where I have to buckle down and get things drawn, it's time for me to work on my journal comic, I've put off doing more than a few pieces of spot shading for a about a week and I need to be prepared to spend Monday scanning and prepping more pages. I can make it, I'm not so afraid and my work is good enough. People will want to buy my pieces and I won't be too afraid to sell them.
Jasmine P.
September 16, 2010
September 8, 2010
Questions and Statements
I'm not asking for answers to any of this, it's just what goes on in my head sometimes. How bad is it if I ask that nobody comments on this? And don't like it either, I think the like feature is bollocks.
---
Why
Why am I such shit at staying asleep?
Why do I lose interest in people from simply not pursing them?
Why am I so fucking passive aggressive?
Why do I want or feel as if I need other people to tell me I'm a good person for me to believe it?
Why so much self-loathing?
Why do I run away?
Why do I speak my mind as rarely as I do?
Why do I speak my mind at the wrong times?
Why am I so fucking vague?
---
Pretend
Sometimes I feel as if I'm a kid pretending to be an adult.
Sometimes I pretend I'm a kid when I want to shirk my responsilbilties.
I might pretend I never wrote this
---
How
How can I be vain at the same time as I have low self-esteem?
How long will I feel like this?
How long until I am able to deal with this better?
---
Statement
I second guess most of the comments I leave before I leave them.
I only look at a few people's profile pages.
Every now and again I click on webpages/websites linked from profile information
I can't stand tagging people, I feel as if I'm being exclusionary
I only read notes sporadically
I feel as if I impose.
I don't mean to be as abrasive as I feel I come off as
---
What
What do I need to do to be happy?
What am I doing wrong?
What am I doing right?
---
When
When will I be happy with me for more than a few hours, days or weeks at a time?
When will I feel loved? And I do mean feel it. I know I am loved, but sometimes I don't always feel it.
When will I get off my ass and publish things?
When will I feel successful?
Jasmine P.
--This could go on, but I don't feel like it.
---
Why
Why am I such shit at staying asleep?
Why do I lose interest in people from simply not pursing them?
Why am I so fucking passive aggressive?
Why do I want or feel as if I need other people to tell me I'm a good person for me to believe it?
Why so much self-loathing?
Why do I run away?
Why do I speak my mind as rarely as I do?
Why do I speak my mind at the wrong times?
Why am I so fucking vague?
---
Pretend
Sometimes I feel as if I'm a kid pretending to be an adult.
Sometimes I pretend I'm a kid when I want to shirk my responsilbilties.
I might pretend I never wrote this
---
How
How can I be vain at the same time as I have low self-esteem?
How long will I feel like this?
How long until I am able to deal with this better?
---
Statement
I second guess most of the comments I leave before I leave them.
I only look at a few people's profile pages.
Every now and again I click on webpages/websites linked from profile information
I can't stand tagging people, I feel as if I'm being exclusionary
I only read notes sporadically
I feel as if I impose.
I don't mean to be as abrasive as I feel I come off as
---
What
What do I need to do to be happy?
What am I doing wrong?
What am I doing right?
---
When
When will I be happy with me for more than a few hours, days or weeks at a time?
When will I feel loved? And I do mean feel it. I know I am loved, but sometimes I don't always feel it.
When will I get off my ass and publish things?
When will I feel successful?
Jasmine P.
--This could go on, but I don't feel like it.
August 31, 2010
Aggressively Passive-Aggressive
Going with me being so estoeric is I am aggressively passive-aggressive. I swear, I'd own this if it was a competition. My passive-aggressive tenancies include and are not limited to: telling other people to invite me out when they can, being esoteric, acting disconnected so other people will ask me what's wrong and I can get attention, craving attention and validation by showing off but acting like I'm not stealing the limelight, asking if other people support my ideas before I follow through, maintaining a blog where I whine about things every time I get a little depressed and sharing it on twitter.
I'm so passive-aggressive that I forget I am until after I've acted like a right twat. It's getting to be incredibly irritating. I think I know what I want in life, but I'm so afraid of rejection that I don't want to take any initiative, but I want to appear open for what I want to accept me.
Passive-aggressive is really weird power play. I act submissive or passive so I can then decide weather or not to accept someone or something that I already do. I am such an asshole.
Jasmine P.
I'm so passive-aggressive that I forget I am until after I've acted like a right twat. It's getting to be incredibly irritating. I think I know what I want in life, but I'm so afraid of rejection that I don't want to take any initiative, but I want to appear open for what I want to accept me.
Passive-aggressive is really weird power play. I act submissive or passive so I can then decide weather or not to accept someone or something that I already do. I am such an asshole.
Jasmine P.
Esoterically Me
I am esoteric. I rely on other people without blatantly telling them that I rely on them. I use my friends to validate me to such an extent that when I'm alone I decide I'm worthless and want other people to tell me what to do, how to act or even just tell me to do something I already want to do. Like, right now, I'm friggin' giddy over this dude. I spend too much time contemplating what he thinks about me, what I'm wearing or things I like or say. I have elaborate fantasies of us just hanging out or him actually asking me out and it both cheers m up an depresses me. I feel like I'm loved but then I think about who I am and how I act and decide there's no way he'd like me and I'm back to where I started again. Sometimes I make elaborate plans to boldly say what I feel but it never works out. I'm either too distracted in the moment (too giddy, too eager, too nervous) or I'm finally calm again and I'm confused as to how I feel. I'm going insane. The person I actively turn to tells me to just go for it, but then I'm too afraid, or I don't know the next time I'll see this guy.
I'm esoterically me because I post song lyric for unrequited-love songs as my status on facebook hoping he gets the message. I say we should do something together, effectively saying we should go out or I go out on a limb and directly ask him out. I'm tired of being so stressed out, I want to forget about romance and infatuation and just focus on being stressed about school and classes and getting my life together.
I want a cheat code to get to the end. I want to peek at the last page of the book to see how it all ends, I'm tired of turning the pages one by one and feeling like I progress no further into the story then I was when I woke up this morning. I at least want to say something before my journal comic gets online. There's flirting something like...6 or 12 days in, love sick whining for the next two months then meager interaction for the last few weeks with an increase in pining and being a whiny bitch.
I'm tired of being so esoterically me.
Jasmine P.
Fuck, this whole rant is esoteric.
I'm esoterically me because I post song lyric for unrequited-love songs as my status on facebook hoping he gets the message. I say we should do something together, effectively saying we should go out or I go out on a limb and directly ask him out. I'm tired of being so stressed out, I want to forget about romance and infatuation and just focus on being stressed about school and classes and getting my life together.
I want a cheat code to get to the end. I want to peek at the last page of the book to see how it all ends, I'm tired of turning the pages one by one and feeling like I progress no further into the story then I was when I woke up this morning. I at least want to say something before my journal comic gets online. There's flirting something like...6 or 12 days in, love sick whining for the next two months then meager interaction for the last few weeks with an increase in pining and being a whiny bitch.
I'm tired of being so esoterically me.
Jasmine P.
Fuck, this whole rant is esoteric.
August 10, 2010
Seven Words...
 |
| Beetle Bailey. I don't own it. |
Shit. Piss. Fuck. Cunt. Cocksucker. Motherfucker. Tits.
Those seven words are George Carlin's original "Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television" (1972). It was revised a few years later to remove 'motherfucker' but the rhythm was lost so he reinstated it. It flows, say it out loud. Shit. Piss. Fuck. Cunt. Cocksucker. Motherfucker. Tits.
 |
| Wow, Sarge's cursing turned into onomatopoeia...fuckin' a... |
This is 1972, it took until the 90s for asshole to really be said on television. Slowly, almost 20 years later these words found their way to television. I'm not dead and I still have some pretty damn good morals if you ask me. Almost 40 years later A television show is getting hell for having grawlix (@!#$& in place of profanity) in it's title, in a situational comedy that I'll assume is geared towards adults. It's already self censoring so why are parent groups getting pissed over something that gets shows in the daily or Sunday comics? Hell, there's a 'no cursing' sign that's popular around Virginia Beach and possibly other public locations that is a the 'no' circle&slash over grawlix to symbolize 'no cursing.' How is that acceptable in public but having a show title with four grawlix symbols be improper for television?
 |
| Grawlix Sign |
 |
| Hey! I drew this! My character Methvin slipping on ice. Classy slapstick, I know. |
I used grawlix here because it was funnier than having him shout 'fuck' and I wanted to be respectful for my teacher when he saw it. I knew what he was saying, but any word can be put in that jagged speech bubble. As for the show's title "Shit My Dad Says" inspired by a Twitter feed, that spawned a book. I dunno, it's a show about a grumpy old man. The only people who'd want to watch a show about bitchy old people are adults who have to deal with their own bitchy old people so I really don't see why parents are in such a huff over a show that I highly doubt too many children would watch. It's like me watching Seinfeld as a kid. I didn't get why the show was funny. As as adult I can appreciate it being clever and I think it's less shitty then I did when Ibetween the ages of 1-10 during the show's entire run. Children don't get adult humour.
I say 'fuck it' to people who don't curse around their kids. I'm all about them sticking to their guns, but when it gets around to policing other people I rally the First Amendment Brigade. I call upon the late and great Lenny Bruce and George Carlin who were practically martyred for being profane in their stand up. They paved the way for slowing the hell that the FCC made television and movies. I mean think about the fact that Alfred Hitchcock was the first person to not just show a fucking toilet in a movie (Psycho (1960)), but to have it flush and it was a plot device. Some show from 1947 called Mary Kay and Johnny was the first to show a couple in bed at the same time, on television.
 |
| Two beds, one couple? |
All this amounts to and all my anger is that showing reality on television isn't going to kill a child. Like the book fucking says EVERYONE POOPS! Why are bodily functions so squeamish? Part of the only reason animals work so hard at hiding them is to keep from being found by predators or for sanitation reasons. A child hearing profanity isn't going to grow up to join a biker gang or or have a million kids.
Essentially I'm rallying the troops against people who have issues with words. People assign meanings to them. Words don't mean anything, I could get into that who batch of semantics, but my point is that people need to stop worrying about the children. Fuck the children (in a metaphorical way. If you're fucking children, you out to be apart of a human centipede, so fucking lie, bastards). Why is our world being dumbed down for children? The world of a child is different from the world of an adult I get that. Why are we making such a fuss to make the adult world clean enough for children. Instead society, parents, families should be preparing their children for just how harsh and rough life is as an adult. I've said it before somewhere here, but keeping a child in a bubble does them no good.Teach a child, don't shield them from the world and they will be better prepared for what's out there then if you keep them from ever learning about bad things.
Petitioning sponsors to not sponsor a show you disagree with makes you a bully and an asshole. There's more to American than 'Christian' morals. I'm quite saddened that Swingtown got canceled a few years back because some prudes didn't like a show about consensual extra-marital fornication, even if all four partners were there and agreed with everything. I would have loved to see the show come into it's own and see what topics it would have dealt with. Sex is an untapped and very un-understood vehicle for conversation. It's too fucking taboo.I wonder, is it the mechanics of it that people are embarrassed about, or the nudity? Out society dislikes it's genitals too much. Penis. Vagina. They're words, there's nothing wrong with words. People give words power over them and over their minds, which is how we get to this point that people are pissy over a pictorial representation of 'foul' language. Whatever four symbols are used for the show aren't that bad. I mean, walk through a bookstore, there's profanity on all sorts of book stores. Just look at the documentary Fuck, it takes a fair stance between the liberal belief and the conservative belief to look at how that one word gets used in society, it's actually a really heavy documentary.
I think I've lost my point and half ass ended this about three times four paragraphs ago. Long story short, leave the show's title as it is. Grawlix are everywhere, in the Sunday paper, on public property, and more. It's not 'hurting the children'. The world is made for adults, the smaller population between adults and children, but the side with power and control. Let adults watch a show geared toward what their lives are about, aging baby-boomers (and maybe hippies) who are either pissy at home or pissy in a retirement home. It's life, life happens. It doesn't kill the children.
 |
| Censorship. |
Jasmine P.
Relevant or Interest Links:
Youtube: George Carlin Seven Dirty Words... Not the original performance, but still great. It gets the point. There are a few great copies and variations
The Examiner
National Journal. (.com?)
Federal Communications Commission - Dated 2008
Lawbrain
A Blog About Swearing Around Children
Twitter: Shit My Dad Says
Snopes: Early to Bed
Snopes: First Toilet on TV(Kind of)
Fuck (film)
July 23, 2010
Self Esteem and Vanity
This is about my creative ability. I finished pieces and proudly show them to my friends, I love showing them work. The down side is that none of them draw so even the crappiest 15 second scribble gets as much love as a piece I'll slave over for hours. It's almost insulting and I have to explain why the 15 second doodle sucks, or why I don't like it. They just can't get it.
When I try to actually consider selling my work I balk. I freeze in my tracks. I can dream of selling my work, I can imagine and plan, but when it boils down to actually selling it, I want to run. I feel bad for charging my friends for my pieces and then there's charging them for some and not for others. Gifts, or random doodles that they decide they like I have no problem giving away. If I really like something I feel bad about trying to charge them. It's less that I'm trying to short change myself, it's more that because they're friends I feel weird, I feel bad about charging. I don't really want to do the 'friend discount' because I have a lot of friends and plenty of them might try talking my into discounting their friends.
See, I'm worrying about something 80 million steps down the road, I haven't even sold a piece and I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to deal with pricing. In the long run for actually pricing pieces I have to be fair and charge everyone the same, and then there's actually charging for a piece. Should I just charge based on the size of the piece and completion, or should I just charge by how long it takes me, with completion factored in. I don't want it to be arbitrary chosen with every piece I sell and if I sell something I did for me, but decide I need to sell, how to I price it then?
Tucked into all of this I've been offered an awesome opportunity, it's a cross between a commission and being allowed to just plain sell my work somewhere. I'm trying to figure out if how I'd end up making money would be fair. I also have to think about how much work I'm preparing, how long it would take and then how long it would be until I ultimately saw any sort of return. I want it to be fair for both me and the person who suggested this idea, but I'm trying to figure out the likely hood of my making anything from this project. I just about have to figure out ten things concurrently before I even get to work on this project, and in my mind I want it ready for next fall to sell. But based off it's sales I could have a relatively simple series to get going. I dunno, I'll hint at more information when I have more figured out. Buuu.
So, another project that I addressed a few weeks ago on Twitter was for a small published comic. In my mind it's regular comic sized, anywhere from 10-20 pages. I want that to have two short stories, I have one sketched that a friend has agreed to review for me before I actually draw the pages for publication. I don't have much more than fleeting thoughts for the second story. They'd be non-sequiturs, but I want the print to be worth it for whoever buys it so I figured two black and white stories comic book sized and only about $5 would be fair. Two people said they'd be interested in it, which was a friggin' ego boost, especially because this story would only be available offline, meaning it's not being posted on blogger, or on deviantart. It would be offline only. It would be a hard sale because the stories are so short I can't preview more than a few sketches or pin-ups online without telling more of the story than I want to online. And I would try selling the books online and see if my comic shop would be able to sell them. This would be an even smaller printing because it would be all paid for by me, but I feel as if I have to try. I love the first story, and it's incredibly open to interpretation and I think I would damn near die if I saw it published. I want the second story to be more concrete but equally engaging, I just need to figure it out. I was also thinking about adding one or two sketches or tiny tiny versions of the original sketches as special pages. Not too sure or set in anything yet. That I want for this winter, but unless I get the second story written/drawn it's going to have to wait until next summer or later.
This is all what's been going through my head, it's something I've been thinking over and fretting about. In my mind I see myself selling books or having people see me in the coffee shop selling one of these books and ask for a sketch or something and truly liking my work. I love my friends but I don't always feel as if I can trust their opinions about my work, I don't want them to say something is good because I made it, I want them to say something if good because it honestly is. It's weird, I seem as if the only people I can trust for this are faculty, they'd be supportive and would give me encouragement, but I also feel as if I can trust their critical eye to point out faults that I can work on. I feel as if I can get an honest opinion that I should try to sell my work, but also be told in a friendly way what needs to be improved upon. I feel as if they could ask the right questions.
I think I fear succeeding. I think I want to ask my teachers their opinions because they're not just going to tell me something is good. I also want to ask them because they have the ability to draw, they're creatives so there's in a way weight to what they'd have to tell me. I feel bad not wanting to accept my friends' opinions but I know they don't want to hurt me. It's an odd form of trust and not trusting people it seems.
If you look over these past two situation you'll see me proudly thinking of my art as sellable then turning before I get too far into the clouds and beat me back to having low self esteem and no body wanting to buy my work. Selling things is like a friggin' fantasy, like flying like a bird with wings and not inside a plane. I keep bringing me back to reality, even though what I want is entirely attainable. What I wonder because of this type of thinking is, is this me being frightened by people not liking my work or am I equally afraid of succeeding and never thinking my work is good enough.
I consider showing my work to my friends me being vain. I love showing off, I love getting the attention. It's always weird and different, difficult for me to deal with people giving me attention that I didn't command. When I take people's attention and force them to focus on me, that's one thing. When people invite their attention I feel like I'm inadequate of receiving it. [Holy fuck, I think I just realized something about something going on right now. Will think about and address later, maybe...] Maybe that's why I fear selling my work. Now to get to believing my friends when they tell me my work is good. Seriously, when people tell me my writing or my art are good I don't really believe them. In my creative writing class I was told my poetry was really good, I don't understand why I didn't like any of it. But another time, another friend, told me a blog was well written, I considered it to be more of a rant than anything impressive or well done. I mean, I understand and I know I can write well, I don't think it's impressive. I consider my abilities and skill to be normal, I don't feel as if I work all that hard to accomplish something. I mean, I rarely give these more than a typo skim, if even that, and I post them. I am now circling back to my blog from a few weeks ago about being intelligent and knowing I'm intelligent. Two radically different ideas.
Well cheers! I hope you enjoyed me fretting about my drawing ability and fear of selling work. I'm going to clean the apartment a bit, and maybe write some ideas I've had for the movie blog I've had since yesterday.
Jasmine P.
When I try to actually consider selling my work I balk. I freeze in my tracks. I can dream of selling my work, I can imagine and plan, but when it boils down to actually selling it, I want to run. I feel bad for charging my friends for my pieces and then there's charging them for some and not for others. Gifts, or random doodles that they decide they like I have no problem giving away. If I really like something I feel bad about trying to charge them. It's less that I'm trying to short change myself, it's more that because they're friends I feel weird, I feel bad about charging. I don't really want to do the 'friend discount' because I have a lot of friends and plenty of them might try talking my into discounting their friends.
See, I'm worrying about something 80 million steps down the road, I haven't even sold a piece and I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to deal with pricing. In the long run for actually pricing pieces I have to be fair and charge everyone the same, and then there's actually charging for a piece. Should I just charge based on the size of the piece and completion, or should I just charge by how long it takes me, with completion factored in. I don't want it to be arbitrary chosen with every piece I sell and if I sell something I did for me, but decide I need to sell, how to I price it then?
Tucked into all of this I've been offered an awesome opportunity, it's a cross between a commission and being allowed to just plain sell my work somewhere. I'm trying to figure out if how I'd end up making money would be fair. I also have to think about how much work I'm preparing, how long it would take and then how long it would be until I ultimately saw any sort of return. I want it to be fair for both me and the person who suggested this idea, but I'm trying to figure out the likely hood of my making anything from this project. I just about have to figure out ten things concurrently before I even get to work on this project, and in my mind I want it ready for next fall to sell. But based off it's sales I could have a relatively simple series to get going. I dunno, I'll hint at more information when I have more figured out. Buuu.
So, another project that I addressed a few weeks ago on Twitter was for a small published comic. In my mind it's regular comic sized, anywhere from 10-20 pages. I want that to have two short stories, I have one sketched that a friend has agreed to review for me before I actually draw the pages for publication. I don't have much more than fleeting thoughts for the second story. They'd be non-sequiturs, but I want the print to be worth it for whoever buys it so I figured two black and white stories comic book sized and only about $5 would be fair. Two people said they'd be interested in it, which was a friggin' ego boost, especially because this story would only be available offline, meaning it's not being posted on blogger, or on deviantart. It would be offline only. It would be a hard sale because the stories are so short I can't preview more than a few sketches or pin-ups online without telling more of the story than I want to online. And I would try selling the books online and see if my comic shop would be able to sell them. This would be an even smaller printing because it would be all paid for by me, but I feel as if I have to try. I love the first story, and it's incredibly open to interpretation and I think I would damn near die if I saw it published. I want the second story to be more concrete but equally engaging, I just need to figure it out. I was also thinking about adding one or two sketches or tiny tiny versions of the original sketches as special pages. Not too sure or set in anything yet. That I want for this winter, but unless I get the second story written/drawn it's going to have to wait until next summer or later.
This is all what's been going through my head, it's something I've been thinking over and fretting about. In my mind I see myself selling books or having people see me in the coffee shop selling one of these books and ask for a sketch or something and truly liking my work. I love my friends but I don't always feel as if I can trust their opinions about my work, I don't want them to say something is good because I made it, I want them to say something if good because it honestly is. It's weird, I seem as if the only people I can trust for this are faculty, they'd be supportive and would give me encouragement, but I also feel as if I can trust their critical eye to point out faults that I can work on. I feel as if I can get an honest opinion that I should try to sell my work, but also be told in a friendly way what needs to be improved upon. I feel as if they could ask the right questions.
I think I fear succeeding. I think I want to ask my teachers their opinions because they're not just going to tell me something is good. I also want to ask them because they have the ability to draw, they're creatives so there's in a way weight to what they'd have to tell me. I feel bad not wanting to accept my friends' opinions but I know they don't want to hurt me. It's an odd form of trust and not trusting people it seems.
If you look over these past two situation you'll see me proudly thinking of my art as sellable then turning before I get too far into the clouds and beat me back to having low self esteem and no body wanting to buy my work. Selling things is like a friggin' fantasy, like flying like a bird with wings and not inside a plane. I keep bringing me back to reality, even though what I want is entirely attainable. What I wonder because of this type of thinking is, is this me being frightened by people not liking my work or am I equally afraid of succeeding and never thinking my work is good enough.
I consider showing my work to my friends me being vain. I love showing off, I love getting the attention. It's always weird and different, difficult for me to deal with people giving me attention that I didn't command. When I take people's attention and force them to focus on me, that's one thing. When people invite their attention I feel like I'm inadequate of receiving it. [Holy fuck, I think I just realized something about something going on right now. Will think about and address later, maybe...] Maybe that's why I fear selling my work. Now to get to believing my friends when they tell me my work is good. Seriously, when people tell me my writing or my art are good I don't really believe them. In my creative writing class I was told my poetry was really good, I don't understand why I didn't like any of it. But another time, another friend, told me a blog was well written, I considered it to be more of a rant than anything impressive or well done. I mean, I understand and I know I can write well, I don't think it's impressive. I consider my abilities and skill to be normal, I don't feel as if I work all that hard to accomplish something. I mean, I rarely give these more than a typo skim, if even that, and I post them. I am now circling back to my blog from a few weeks ago about being intelligent and knowing I'm intelligent. Two radically different ideas.
Well cheers! I hope you enjoyed me fretting about my drawing ability and fear of selling work. I'm going to clean the apartment a bit, and maybe write some ideas I've had for the movie blog I've had since yesterday.
Jasmine P.
July 16, 2010
Visual Identity
I just read an article about a lesbian woman who is now with a man. She spoke about how she would display her lesbian habits and pro GLBTQ community ideas in her younger years with a mohawk, rainbows and radicallism.
I look at that, then I look at me. I have thought on more than one occasion that I am a gay man in a woman's body. Seriously, I don't dress like a woman, I rarely admit to liking woman's things, I enjoy hanging out with guys and to a point I'm much more comfortable around men. Something I working with at the moment though is how I present myself. Like I said, kind of, I'm straight. I like men. I've contemplated women and end with men. I dress like a lesbian and worry that other people think I'm a lesbian.
In saying I dress like a lesbian, I prefer wearing men's clothes, I keep my hair cropped short and rarely display my breasts. [I was going to use the euphemism 'assets' but decided we're fucking adults, call them what they are.] I have been called sir on many an occasion, which is irritating. I wear a cap every day very rarely outwardly display myself as female.
With how I dress and present myself and my vulgar sense of humor I'm really not trying to make a statement, I'm just trying to be comfortable. Because of my hidridenitis I don't really wear revealing shirts, I know it is possible to show off breasts without showing off arms. But, I can't wear tank tops because the edge of the material cut into the wounds or bandages causing pain, and I don't want people to see the bandages and judge or question them. They're kind of disgusting and not really socially fun to talk about. I accept my weight, but am still a bit self-conscious of it. That self-consciousness leads to what I wear, I don't wear sleek, tight or formfitting because it would show and highlight all of the fat. All of the fat everywhere.
Most days I'm wearing a tee shirt from Threadless, if it's cool or cold a sweatshirt or a light shirt/jacket. In the summer I wear man shorts, the ones that stop below the knee, and in the winder jeans or cargo pants. I prefer buying man pants because they have better pockets, I swear you can only fit a condom into woman's pants pockets. In man's pants pockets you could save the moon, or at least hold onto a sandwich.
I wear what I consider to be comfortable. Dressing like a woman is rarely comfortable in my mind because there's heeled shoes which I rebel against. There's primping which I dislike because that hiding who I am in a way I don't like. Make up and nail polish, why? I don't want it so I don't wear it. Then there's tight, form fitting clothes, or even just clothes cut for the female figure. I prefer to know my breasts aren't going anywhere. I don't care if people stare, they're fat. Breasts are fat, fat my body decided I needed hanging off my front. I don't understand why people are so uptight about men looking at their breasts and I'm tired of that joke in movies. I actually find them to be annoying, seriously. The pains that you go through with large breasts, not worth it. If you have average or a small sized bust, rejoice! Bras costs too much as is, but the bigger the boob the more they cost. Hell, my bras cost more than the shirts that cover them, seriously. It's fucked up.
But as I was saying, sometimes I feel as if people give me the title of Lesbian when they see me without knowing me. Everyone judges on first sight, but I want people to value me for my mind and not because I have a large bust that is on display. My figure is far from an hour glass, but I like it, it's mine dammit. I do want to lose some weight, but I am happy with where I am.
I dunno, just some thoughts.
Jasmine P.
I look at that, then I look at me. I have thought on more than one occasion that I am a gay man in a woman's body. Seriously, I don't dress like a woman, I rarely admit to liking woman's things, I enjoy hanging out with guys and to a point I'm much more comfortable around men. Something I working with at the moment though is how I present myself. Like I said, kind of, I'm straight. I like men. I've contemplated women and end with men. I dress like a lesbian and worry that other people think I'm a lesbian.
In saying I dress like a lesbian, I prefer wearing men's clothes, I keep my hair cropped short and rarely display my breasts. [I was going to use the euphemism 'assets' but decided we're fucking adults, call them what they are.] I have been called sir on many an occasion, which is irritating. I wear a cap every day very rarely outwardly display myself as female.
With how I dress and present myself and my vulgar sense of humor I'm really not trying to make a statement, I'm just trying to be comfortable. Because of my hidridenitis I don't really wear revealing shirts, I know it is possible to show off breasts without showing off arms. But, I can't wear tank tops because the edge of the material cut into the wounds or bandages causing pain, and I don't want people to see the bandages and judge or question them. They're kind of disgusting and not really socially fun to talk about. I accept my weight, but am still a bit self-conscious of it. That self-consciousness leads to what I wear, I don't wear sleek, tight or formfitting because it would show and highlight all of the fat. All of the fat everywhere.
Most days I'm wearing a tee shirt from Threadless, if it's cool or cold a sweatshirt or a light shirt/jacket. In the summer I wear man shorts, the ones that stop below the knee, and in the winder jeans or cargo pants. I prefer buying man pants because they have better pockets, I swear you can only fit a condom into woman's pants pockets. In man's pants pockets you could save the moon, or at least hold onto a sandwich.
I wear what I consider to be comfortable. Dressing like a woman is rarely comfortable in my mind because there's heeled shoes which I rebel against. There's primping which I dislike because that hiding who I am in a way I don't like. Make up and nail polish, why? I don't want it so I don't wear it. Then there's tight, form fitting clothes, or even just clothes cut for the female figure. I prefer to know my breasts aren't going anywhere. I don't care if people stare, they're fat. Breasts are fat, fat my body decided I needed hanging off my front. I don't understand why people are so uptight about men looking at their breasts and I'm tired of that joke in movies. I actually find them to be annoying, seriously. The pains that you go through with large breasts, not worth it. If you have average or a small sized bust, rejoice! Bras costs too much as is, but the bigger the boob the more they cost. Hell, my bras cost more than the shirts that cover them, seriously. It's fucked up.
But as I was saying, sometimes I feel as if people give me the title of Lesbian when they see me without knowing me. Everyone judges on first sight, but I want people to value me for my mind and not because I have a large bust that is on display. My figure is far from an hour glass, but I like it, it's mine dammit. I do want to lose some weight, but I am happy with where I am.
I dunno, just some thoughts.
Jasmine P.
"Adult"
This is bullshit. Applying for FAFSA is fucking bullshit. I jump through all these fucking hoops and now I get stopped just because my father's alive. To quickly explain why his living is a bad thing: my parents have been divorced since I was about 1 year old. My mother had sole custody over my brothers and myself until she died. She died when I turned 18 which automatically makes me an independent. I checked that box on FAFSA because my father does jack shit to provide for my well being. He doesn't even send me money once a month, which he did for my brothers. If I want money from him I have to either directly ask him for it, or I have to try to beg for it by sounding as pathetic as I can to see if he gives me anything. It's gatdamn bullshit.
Cut to now. My mother has been dead for three years, I've been an independent and my father isn't giving me shit. I haven't been working but I've had my inheritance to spend on school for three years, it's running a bit low. I call campus Financial Aid to figure out why they need my father's information and it's because he's alive. If I say I made an attempt to contact him they'll say that and I guess I'll be awarded the money they tentatively told me I could receive. The problem herein lies in the fact that my father will respond, he will fill in his tax information and FAFSA might not give me any money because he of whatever he fucking makes. Or they'll give me less. Either way it works out not in my benefit and I might be screwed and have to apply for a loan from somewhere else.
I guess I understand where the government is coming from in wanting both parent's information, but he's dead. If my mother was still alive they wouldn't have needed his information because she had custody, so now, just because she's dead and he isn't they need his information. I honestly don't know how much he makes, I'm just assuming it's more then enough to keep me from getting shit and that makes me a very sad Jasmine. Sad and furious. I bet you that if I had been in trouble and I told the government the same shit about m father they wouldn't care that he's alive. But when I need money from them they make me jump through the most idiotic of hoops to get a few pennies. In the grand scheme of things $20k isn't that much to the government, I don't understand why they're trying to hard now to not spend it when they spend a few million if not billion every fucking day. I mean if education is so important in this country make it easier for people to either afford fucking college or make it easier for people to get money to pay for college.
I just want money for school. I want to be done with school and I want to really be perceived as an adult because this shit makes me feel like a child. I hate feeling like a child.
Jasmine P.
Cut to now. My mother has been dead for three years, I've been an independent and my father isn't giving me shit. I haven't been working but I've had my inheritance to spend on school for three years, it's running a bit low. I call campus Financial Aid to figure out why they need my father's information and it's because he's alive. If I say I made an attempt to contact him they'll say that and I guess I'll be awarded the money they tentatively told me I could receive. The problem herein lies in the fact that my father will respond, he will fill in his tax information and FAFSA might not give me any money because he of whatever he fucking makes. Or they'll give me less. Either way it works out not in my benefit and I might be screwed and have to apply for a loan from somewhere else.
I guess I understand where the government is coming from in wanting both parent's information, but he's dead. If my mother was still alive they wouldn't have needed his information because she had custody, so now, just because she's dead and he isn't they need his information. I honestly don't know how much he makes, I'm just assuming it's more then enough to keep me from getting shit and that makes me a very sad Jasmine. Sad and furious. I bet you that if I had been in trouble and I told the government the same shit about m father they wouldn't care that he's alive. But when I need money from them they make me jump through the most idiotic of hoops to get a few pennies. In the grand scheme of things $20k isn't that much to the government, I don't understand why they're trying to hard now to not spend it when they spend a few million if not billion every fucking day. I mean if education is so important in this country make it easier for people to either afford fucking college or make it easier for people to get money to pay for college.
I just want money for school. I want to be done with school and I want to really be perceived as an adult because this shit makes me feel like a child. I hate feeling like a child.
Jasmine P.
July 8, 2010
Journalism, What the Frig?
How Celador Stood Up to a Bully in Taking Disney Down| The Wrap.com, By Dominic Patten
I read this article. Then I had to read it a second time to get what the hell they were talking about. It's like this person took the inverted pyramid that is the general consensus of form for jounalistic writing and played Jenga with it, remembered he had an article to write and used his Jenga-upped pyramid to write.
The inverted pyramid, a quick explanation, is a guide for format of an article. The journalist puts the most important information at the top of the article, then any details pertaining to the story go in all the successive paragraphs in order from most important to least important. A slightly longer description can be found here, on wikipedia. This can successfully be seen in this article from the New York Times and the same story written for the BBC. This is interesting because it's the same story with more or less the same information presented in each. The NYT article has more anecdotal information keeping the story entertaining that way. The BBC article has more numerical information which is interesting in comparison and more facts. Between these two, in my mind, the BBC is more valuable because of the the greater amount of numerical information.
When you look at both of those articles you can stop reading abut three or four paragraphs in and have the most important information and not missing any part of the true story. Now when you compare those stories to the one from The Wire about Disney, four paragraphs in you're only just getting to the information that you're seeing in that story. It's a bit different on the BBC article were every sentence is a paragraph, but if you read until 'perpetual flight' where it's bolded you get the important information of the story. If you choose not to read the entire story you've still read the most pertinent information.
When I look at The Wire article I want to know who Celador is, we learn that in the third paragraph with the littlest amount of information explaining who or what Celador is. In the fourth paragraph we get three overly used cliches, a sign of a weak writer. He uses 'shell game' and 'Hollywood underdog' and 'tip the scales.' Calling someone an underdog is so over played, and using three incredibly weak cliches is an insult to your readers. It doesn't need to be too high brow but use something that is more clever. I can think of few situations where cliches need to be in a new article.
Well, after the third paragraph where we learn who the hell Celador is I want to learn what Disney did. Oh, it's six paragraphs down after a poorly placed quote. Wait, that's quite distracting, who is this Stanton Stein? Oh, he settled with Disney about Home Improvement some years ago. He worked with Celador for a while, is he still working with Celador? Why was this not said before, or his stud quote left until after we've been told what Disney did wrong? Oh hay there studio jargon, what do you mean? I understand this may be a trade paper but a few more context clues would be helpful.
What Cliche?! Can I call you Clich? Cleesh? Aww, this one's inside a quotation, I guess it's fine. [Not really.] Alright! Only nine paragraphs in and we finally meet someone from Celador! He's only their CEO. Alright we're getting to the case, nope! I spoke too soon, an anonymous NYC-based marketing analysis interjects with something that's marginally useful! I don't get what the Tory Story 3 thing has to do with this case, but whatever.
13 paragraphs in we learn what Celador was seeking. 14 and 15 paint Michael Eisner to be a prick, especially he never showed up to court that day to argue he's more of a dick than a prick.
Oh hay, it's the Internet, let's use a second page! And another paragraph laden with cliches in paragraph 17. This writer loves paragraphs chocked full of cliches, doesn't he? And another vague quote, but I'll accept this one as anonymous because it's from a juror.
--
My verdict on this article is the author scrambled what came across the journalism wire and added his cliches to make it seem like he wrote more of the story that he actually did. [The Wire I spoke of is the press release from some other reporter from the court. It used to be sent by telegraph, then fax and I'll assume now by Internet and e-mail.] It's shit like that that make people not want to pay for news, poor writing. It doesn't help that the author's name is a false link, it's just be colored blue.
Now, I just ranted, spewed words onto the Internet. I was not attempting any proper format, this is closer to five paragraph essay than journalism, but it's not that, it's all opinion. I don't understand who taught this guy to write, but he needs to go back to school and be taught how to not suck. I only got what the article said when I was making fun of it, and then it's still quite poorly written.
If I were to write this story I'd start be introducing Celadon and Disney in the first paragraph and I'd explain why Celadon took Disney to court. I'd move on to explain what self-dealing is, why it's bad and why this is a landmark case. I'd introduce Stein, possibly before explaining why who case is important for small production offices. I'd describe some of the more important court days, like the one given with Eister not showing up to defend Disney. I might not use the quote from the New York analyst. I'd end with the quote from the Celadon CEO, maybe, or some stupid anecdote or joke maybe.
That story written as I proposed is simple and to the point. It would explain what the situation was and why this is important, especially if Disney loses the appeal. It would also be a lot stronger because it isn't pussyfooting around the subject.
Jasmine P.
I read this article. Then I had to read it a second time to get what the hell they were talking about. It's like this person took the inverted pyramid that is the general consensus of form for jounalistic writing and played Jenga with it, remembered he had an article to write and used his Jenga-upped pyramid to write.
The inverted pyramid, a quick explanation, is a guide for format of an article. The journalist puts the most important information at the top of the article, then any details pertaining to the story go in all the successive paragraphs in order from most important to least important. A slightly longer description can be found here, on wikipedia. This can successfully be seen in this article from the New York Times and the same story written for the BBC. This is interesting because it's the same story with more or less the same information presented in each. The NYT article has more anecdotal information keeping the story entertaining that way. The BBC article has more numerical information which is interesting in comparison and more facts. Between these two, in my mind, the BBC is more valuable because of the the greater amount of numerical information.
When you look at both of those articles you can stop reading abut three or four paragraphs in and have the most important information and not missing any part of the true story. Now when you compare those stories to the one from The Wire about Disney, four paragraphs in you're only just getting to the information that you're seeing in that story. It's a bit different on the BBC article were every sentence is a paragraph, but if you read until 'perpetual flight' where it's bolded you get the important information of the story. If you choose not to read the entire story you've still read the most pertinent information.
When I look at The Wire article I want to know who Celador is, we learn that in the third paragraph with the littlest amount of information explaining who or what Celador is. In the fourth paragraph we get three overly used cliches, a sign of a weak writer. He uses 'shell game' and 'Hollywood underdog' and 'tip the scales.' Calling someone an underdog is so over played, and using three incredibly weak cliches is an insult to your readers. It doesn't need to be too high brow but use something that is more clever. I can think of few situations where cliches need to be in a new article.
Well, after the third paragraph where we learn who the hell Celador is I want to learn what Disney did. Oh, it's six paragraphs down after a poorly placed quote. Wait, that's quite distracting, who is this Stanton Stein? Oh, he settled with Disney about Home Improvement some years ago. He worked with Celador for a while, is he still working with Celador? Why was this not said before, or his stud quote left until after we've been told what Disney did wrong? Oh hay there studio jargon, what do you mean? I understand this may be a trade paper but a few more context clues would be helpful.
What Cliche?! Can I call you Clich? Cleesh? Aww, this one's inside a quotation, I guess it's fine. [Not really.] Alright! Only nine paragraphs in and we finally meet someone from Celador! He's only their CEO. Alright we're getting to the case, nope! I spoke too soon, an anonymous NYC-based marketing analysis interjects with something that's marginally useful! I don't get what the Tory Story 3 thing has to do with this case, but whatever.
13 paragraphs in we learn what Celador was seeking. 14 and 15 paint Michael Eisner to be a prick, especially he never showed up to court that day to argue he's more of a dick than a prick.
Oh hay, it's the Internet, let's use a second page! And another paragraph laden with cliches in paragraph 17. This writer loves paragraphs chocked full of cliches, doesn't he? And another vague quote, but I'll accept this one as anonymous because it's from a juror.
--
My verdict on this article is the author scrambled what came across the journalism wire and added his cliches to make it seem like he wrote more of the story that he actually did. [The Wire I spoke of is the press release from some other reporter from the court. It used to be sent by telegraph, then fax and I'll assume now by Internet and e-mail.] It's shit like that that make people not want to pay for news, poor writing. It doesn't help that the author's name is a false link, it's just be colored blue.
Now, I just ranted, spewed words onto the Internet. I was not attempting any proper format, this is closer to five paragraph essay than journalism, but it's not that, it's all opinion. I don't understand who taught this guy to write, but he needs to go back to school and be taught how to not suck. I only got what the article said when I was making fun of it, and then it's still quite poorly written.
If I were to write this story I'd start be introducing Celadon and Disney in the first paragraph and I'd explain why Celadon took Disney to court. I'd move on to explain what self-dealing is, why it's bad and why this is a landmark case. I'd introduce Stein, possibly before explaining why who case is important for small production offices. I'd describe some of the more important court days, like the one given with Eister not showing up to defend Disney. I might not use the quote from the New York analyst. I'd end with the quote from the Celadon CEO, maybe, or some stupid anecdote or joke maybe.
That story written as I proposed is simple and to the point. It would explain what the situation was and why this is important, especially if Disney loses the appeal. It would also be a lot stronger because it isn't pussyfooting around the subject.
Jasmine P.
June 30, 2010
My Past 24 Hours: A Hellish Roller Coaster
Yesterday I spent about...4 hours watching the first two series of Black Books which was created by Graham Linham and Dylan Moran. It's a fantastically awesome series about three misanthropes. Bernard Black run Black Books, a used bookstore; Manny goes bonkers and starts working there and Bernard's friend Fran spends a lot of time hanging out in the shop. They live drinking, smoking and being all around ridiculous. The characters remind me a bit of a British It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia at times, the humor isn't as dry as some British comedies can be. It made yesterday pretty damn awesome as I started sinking into being depressed.
Speaking of being depressed...I went to counseling yesterday morning, like most Tuesdays. Prior to I did that stupid thing where I sleep for four hours. Seriously, I think it's a retarded side effect from quitting smoking. I don't know, it's really friggin' annoying. I woke up at 6, I was able to get back to sleep, but being awake was not plesant. It's not like I didn't feel rested, but I know me and I know my habits so I don't understand why I keep waking up after only four hours of sleep.
In councling I spoke about what's gone on over the past week including going to a festival this past Friday and going to a youth church thing. I can appreciate where the group is coming from by using rap to make the youth feel closer to the message [it was a predominantly black church group] but I don't agree. It sounded mostly like hardcore rap which seems a little counterproductive. What I mean is, if it sounds like gangster, shoot-'em-up rap and you can't understand what's being said, how do they know the message they intended got across to the youth? If you look at my track record of music habits I'm across the board, except for hardcore rap. I never liked that sound, it has never been pleasing to my ears so I was judgemental. If you remember my earlier blogs about my opinion of religion I was already going in judging. I tried to get with it but I couldn't. When the speaker got up on stage to preach I was more or less fine with the message. He spoke about not giving up because something is too hard. That's the Devil's work getting you off your proper path. That I could get behind. I could not agree with his use of a cancer analogy.
For the newcomers, my mother died from cancer. I don't like talking about cancer in that ambiguous manner that if someone died from it, they gave up. Bull-fucking-shit. My family and I never 'gave up hope' we held out candle for my mother the entire time she was ill. We prayed, our church prayed, her co-workers prayed. She's now on a prayer list or something with some church, still. People have not forgotten us. There were a lot of people who didn't give up praying for her. The doctors did the best the could and ended up trying to keep her pain manageable. She died because of science. Why do I not want to accept it as God's will? I'll tell you. I don't want to accept it as God's will because I still needed her. I still need her.
I have met a lot of people who care, who will give me advice and help me should I ask, and even if I don't ask all the time. That's all well and dandy but my mother is still dead. It's not the same. If God cared about me than why did she need to die? So I could grow up? What's going to happen in my life that I couldn't stay naive for a few months longer, a few years longer.
Why did she have to die, science can explain. The massive amounts of chemicals in her system took their toll on her body, it could not take it anymore. Her kidney's stopped flushing water from her blood; her lungs deteriorated from pneumonia getting a hold of her chemotherapy weakened system and her body was too far deceased and disconnected to continue. Her body knew it was time, it tried to keep up but it couldn't repair itself fast enough. The thought that biology happened, that it's the natural order of life and death, that all living things die at some point made me feel better than saying 'God wanted her to come home.' Science gives me answers. I believe in science. I believe in some deity getting things started and is now sitting back or just plain gone and this world continues circling that fucking star. Science has yet to give us all the answers. I can accept that. I mean, if the universe started from the 'Big Bang' where did the elements come from for that initial beginning? If they came from an even earlier universe, what happened to that one? And where did that one come from?
We don't know, so I believe in science as far as it can give me an educated answer. It might all be wrong but it makes enough sense and seems plausible enough for me.
I left counseling this morning with my counselor asking me to detail how I felt as my mother was sick, when she died and after. Thankfully I have so many damn blogs and journals it's kind of like aggregating it and maybe writing something new, or taking this. Not too sure yet.
I left counseling and killed some time until I went out to Jerry's Art-Arama to get supplies for my color theory class. I spent $184 to get my supplies, giant 19X24 bristol, color aid, pencils, triangle, compass and a shit ton of 'other'. I did get to save abut $20, my friend who is now dropping the class, is letting me borrow some things for the duration which is pretty sweet.
Now, the trip back from Jerry's, which is out in Virginia Beach was an interesting and highly irritating one. Remember how I said I was slipping into depression last night? Well it reared it's bastardly ugly head. Fucking bastard. People's driving was irritating me and my friend tried to give me some advice on how to deal with it. It didn't help. I was in the middle of being depressed, being told just about anything does not help. We were stuck in traffic because of an accident on 64 and people just kept irritating me. My friend couldn't placate me and was actually counter productive. When I cry I don't want to be told it's fine to cry, I like rationalizing things out. I like words, I like taking the elusive and explaining it to the best of my ability. Why? It focuses me. It keeps me in control. I like being in control.
That's not to say I don't let myself go and go with the flow of things. I have been stepping out of my box, out f my comfort zone for a while, trying new things. At the festival I tried crawfish, I went back to a church for the first time in three years, I've gone out with people I don't know. I have no problem feeling joy, happiness, bliss, anger, irritation, depression. I feel, I like feeling with words. Tears do nothing. No, crying doesn't make me feel better, I hate crying, I hate it when I cry, it's like I've lost control in an unpleasant way. Science on wikipedia gives me a few answers but not much is going on right now to really prompt this. It's irritating and I really can't stand crying.
And looking at that and knowing me I can now predict a few things. As I said yesterday I knew I was getting depressed. As I cried I said I was feeling depressed. I've written more journals in the past few weeks than I have in a while. Writing is one of the things I do when I'm depressed, I'm trying to put my feelings into words, trying to work through it. Writing about any thing that comes to mind. [Yes, I want 'any' and 'thing' to be separate words]. I've been depressed and I'm PMS-ing. I'm not as hard up about candy unless I'm pms-ing, and I want peanut butter. It was never chocolate for me, always peanut butter. At the moment it's peanut butter M&Ms, yeah there's chocolate, but it's about the peanut butter. It's usually Reese's Pieces, I know these things.
So I'm in my car, trapped in my traffic, in the Virginia heat [with A/C], and I'm crying and depressed. My friend it telling me it's fine. It's not fine. It's never fine when I cry. Very few of my friends have seen me cry and it's always when I can't put my frustrations into words.
I hate crying. Period.
I dropped him off, came home, and made a 16 oz Cosmopolitan in a water-bottle. I downed it in an hour and rolled around on my bed drunk and doing nothing on the internet until I decided to see Toy Story 3. I have been thinking about not seeing it, but in the long run I had to. It was awesome. I didn't like that the three trailer's before the movie were for 3D flicks, I saw Toy Store in classic 2D and these trailers seemed like those movies weren't going to be distributed in 2D, I assume they will be but we'll see. One of these days on my movie blog I'll put up my opinion about 3D and elaborate on my distaste for it. And if you pop over to my movie blog, you can see my opinion on making pseudo 3D/CGI animated films, as critiqued by the Smurfs movie slated for next year. I also have some ideas about photo-realism, which can fit into that blog but will get it's own, because that owl movie looks creepy (it had human eyes..wtf?!? -ovular-). But, I don't like barn owls, their faces are disturbingly flat, and the movie seems to 'star' a barn owl. Joy. Or it's a masked owl...I don't like the flatter faces. The other things I noticed in the trailers is that there are two animated movies for this summer/fall that seem like they're supposed to be sympathetic to villains. The Will Ferrel one, Mastermind or whatever (...'it's BIG for a reason'...great, penis envy jokes); and the Steve Carell one, Despicable Me (reading this plot, this seems weak. I like the beginning idea, but where it goes, not as much). I think the trailer could be made stronger if the minion characters said the word right, instead of tailoring it to kids, if they broke it down on the screen for the kid to learn the damn word and not having the minion stumble on the word then having the announcer say it correctly.
So, Toy Story 3, fantastic. It was also hella depressing. It was also hella brilliant. I loved the toys that were there in the the day care, I loved how things played out. It was all really well written an animated. I don't want to spoil much, but I do with that more had been done with Bonnie's toys, they were awesome. And great voices all around. I could have gone with the Spanish Buzz joke, it went on a bit too long for me and seemed to be a little contrived, but outside of that bit of nit picking I enjoyed everything. It was written on a kid's level, but was great for adults without it needing to be vulgar, a la Shrek.
Yeah...I came back home and wrote all this out. It's taken me a bit more than an hour. So today was a roller coaster of hell, kind of. But I feel better now that I've written..something! See, crying doesn't help, words do!
Jasmine P.
Speaking of being depressed...I went to counseling yesterday morning, like most Tuesdays. Prior to I did that stupid thing where I sleep for four hours. Seriously, I think it's a retarded side effect from quitting smoking. I don't know, it's really friggin' annoying. I woke up at 6, I was able to get back to sleep, but being awake was not plesant. It's not like I didn't feel rested, but I know me and I know my habits so I don't understand why I keep waking up after only four hours of sleep.
In councling I spoke about what's gone on over the past week including going to a festival this past Friday and going to a youth church thing. I can appreciate where the group is coming from by using rap to make the youth feel closer to the message [it was a predominantly black church group] but I don't agree. It sounded mostly like hardcore rap which seems a little counterproductive. What I mean is, if it sounds like gangster, shoot-'em-up rap and you can't understand what's being said, how do they know the message they intended got across to the youth? If you look at my track record of music habits I'm across the board, except for hardcore rap. I never liked that sound, it has never been pleasing to my ears so I was judgemental. If you remember my earlier blogs about my opinion of religion I was already going in judging. I tried to get with it but I couldn't. When the speaker got up on stage to preach I was more or less fine with the message. He spoke about not giving up because something is too hard. That's the Devil's work getting you off your proper path. That I could get behind. I could not agree with his use of a cancer analogy.
For the newcomers, my mother died from cancer. I don't like talking about cancer in that ambiguous manner that if someone died from it, they gave up. Bull-fucking-shit. My family and I never 'gave up hope' we held out candle for my mother the entire time she was ill. We prayed, our church prayed, her co-workers prayed. She's now on a prayer list or something with some church, still. People have not forgotten us. There were a lot of people who didn't give up praying for her. The doctors did the best the could and ended up trying to keep her pain manageable. She died because of science. Why do I not want to accept it as God's will? I'll tell you. I don't want to accept it as God's will because I still needed her. I still need her.
I have met a lot of people who care, who will give me advice and help me should I ask, and even if I don't ask all the time. That's all well and dandy but my mother is still dead. It's not the same. If God cared about me than why did she need to die? So I could grow up? What's going to happen in my life that I couldn't stay naive for a few months longer, a few years longer.
Why did she have to die, science can explain. The massive amounts of chemicals in her system took their toll on her body, it could not take it anymore. Her kidney's stopped flushing water from her blood; her lungs deteriorated from pneumonia getting a hold of her chemotherapy weakened system and her body was too far deceased and disconnected to continue. Her body knew it was time, it tried to keep up but it couldn't repair itself fast enough. The thought that biology happened, that it's the natural order of life and death, that all living things die at some point made me feel better than saying 'God wanted her to come home.' Science gives me answers. I believe in science. I believe in some deity getting things started and is now sitting back or just plain gone and this world continues circling that fucking star. Science has yet to give us all the answers. I can accept that. I mean, if the universe started from the 'Big Bang' where did the elements come from for that initial beginning? If they came from an even earlier universe, what happened to that one? And where did that one come from?
We don't know, so I believe in science as far as it can give me an educated answer. It might all be wrong but it makes enough sense and seems plausible enough for me.
I left counseling this morning with my counselor asking me to detail how I felt as my mother was sick, when she died and after. Thankfully I have so many damn blogs and journals it's kind of like aggregating it and maybe writing something new, or taking this. Not too sure yet.
I left counseling and killed some time until I went out to Jerry's Art-Arama to get supplies for my color theory class. I spent $184 to get my supplies, giant 19X24 bristol, color aid, pencils, triangle, compass and a shit ton of 'other'. I did get to save abut $20, my friend who is now dropping the class, is letting me borrow some things for the duration which is pretty sweet.
Now, the trip back from Jerry's, which is out in Virginia Beach was an interesting and highly irritating one. Remember how I said I was slipping into depression last night? Well it reared it's bastardly ugly head. Fucking bastard. People's driving was irritating me and my friend tried to give me some advice on how to deal with it. It didn't help. I was in the middle of being depressed, being told just about anything does not help. We were stuck in traffic because of an accident on 64 and people just kept irritating me. My friend couldn't placate me and was actually counter productive. When I cry I don't want to be told it's fine to cry, I like rationalizing things out. I like words, I like taking the elusive and explaining it to the best of my ability. Why? It focuses me. It keeps me in control. I like being in control.
That's not to say I don't let myself go and go with the flow of things. I have been stepping out of my box, out f my comfort zone for a while, trying new things. At the festival I tried crawfish, I went back to a church for the first time in three years, I've gone out with people I don't know. I have no problem feeling joy, happiness, bliss, anger, irritation, depression. I feel, I like feeling with words. Tears do nothing. No, crying doesn't make me feel better, I hate crying, I hate it when I cry, it's like I've lost control in an unpleasant way. Science on wikipedia gives me a few answers but not much is going on right now to really prompt this. It's irritating and I really can't stand crying.
And looking at that and knowing me I can now predict a few things. As I said yesterday I knew I was getting depressed. As I cried I said I was feeling depressed. I've written more journals in the past few weeks than I have in a while. Writing is one of the things I do when I'm depressed, I'm trying to put my feelings into words, trying to work through it. Writing about any thing that comes to mind. [Yes, I want 'any' and 'thing' to be separate words]. I've been depressed and I'm PMS-ing. I'm not as hard up about candy unless I'm pms-ing, and I want peanut butter. It was never chocolate for me, always peanut butter. At the moment it's peanut butter M&Ms, yeah there's chocolate, but it's about the peanut butter. It's usually Reese's Pieces, I know these things.
So I'm in my car, trapped in my traffic, in the Virginia heat [with A/C], and I'm crying and depressed. My friend it telling me it's fine. It's not fine. It's never fine when I cry. Very few of my friends have seen me cry and it's always when I can't put my frustrations into words.
I hate crying. Period.
I dropped him off, came home, and made a 16 oz Cosmopolitan in a water-bottle. I downed it in an hour and rolled around on my bed drunk and doing nothing on the internet until I decided to see Toy Story 3. I have been thinking about not seeing it, but in the long run I had to. It was awesome. I didn't like that the three trailer's before the movie were for 3D flicks, I saw Toy Store in classic 2D and these trailers seemed like those movies weren't going to be distributed in 2D, I assume they will be but we'll see. One of these days on my movie blog I'll put up my opinion about 3D and elaborate on my distaste for it. And if you pop over to my movie blog, you can see my opinion on making pseudo 3D/CGI animated films, as critiqued by the Smurfs movie slated for next year. I also have some ideas about photo-realism, which can fit into that blog but will get it's own, because that owl movie looks creepy (it had human eyes..wtf?!? -ovular-). But, I don't like barn owls, their faces are disturbingly flat, and the movie seems to 'star' a barn owl. Joy. Or it's a masked owl...I don't like the flatter faces. The other things I noticed in the trailers is that there are two animated movies for this summer/fall that seem like they're supposed to be sympathetic to villains. The Will Ferrel one, Mastermind or whatever (...'it's BIG for a reason'...great, penis envy jokes); and the Steve Carell one, Despicable Me (reading this plot, this seems weak. I like the beginning idea, but where it goes, not as much). I think the trailer could be made stronger if the minion characters said the word right, instead of tailoring it to kids, if they broke it down on the screen for the kid to learn the damn word and not having the minion stumble on the word then having the announcer say it correctly.
So, Toy Story 3, fantastic. It was also hella depressing. It was also hella brilliant. I loved the toys that were there in the the day care, I loved how things played out. It was all really well written an animated. I don't want to spoil much, but I do with that more had been done with Bonnie's toys, they were awesome. And great voices all around. I could have gone with the Spanish Buzz joke, it went on a bit too long for me and seemed to be a little contrived, but outside of that bit of nit picking I enjoyed everything. It was written on a kid's level, but was great for adults without it needing to be vulgar, a la Shrek.
Yeah...I came back home and wrote all this out. It's taken me a bit more than an hour. So today was a roller coaster of hell, kind of. But I feel better now that I've written..something! See, crying doesn't help, words do!
Jasmine P.
June 24, 2010
Dream: Flustered Awake
So, in my continuing tradition of writing out my dreams when they're especially awesome, here's my dreams from this morning. I'd woken up at about 7:20 and put myself back to sleep because I'd barely slept 4-5 hours and knew I needed more sleep. I covered my eyes with a bandanna and this is what I dreamed of.
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I'd laid down to sleep, thinking about Jon. Nothing dirty, just pleasant, you know. I don't remember the early part of the dream but at one point I'm going through my refrigerator and start throwing out things that are spoiled, my Gramma is there or something. I head to the grocery store with Za and as we're walking through the store I tell her about Jon when he shows up. I decide 'to hell with shopping' and go with hm outside where we talk for a minute or two. He seems to be nervous and coy, I am too; in the back of my head in my dream I'm annoyed that I can't say anything about the fact that I think we should try going out proper and not beat around the bush about liking each other. I have to leave, I have prior plans for the evening and leave. I get dressed for the evening in some sort of wrapping tube top shirt and pants/skirt (not sure which). I go to Sobo, but now Sobo is a bar/restaurant/club type lounge in a mall. I'm talking to the owner who is a cross between reg from Local Heroes; Duff, from Ace of Cakes; Gordon, from Sobo and one or two other guys. I start talking about Jon and being into him. The bar/club/restaurant owner seems to be aggravated about the entire situation and sends a text message to someone. He's giving me advice that sounds like he knows who Jon is and about the situation and most importantly that he knows that Jon likes me. We continue talking and the waitress, some Asian chick, is odd and sort of rude. Owner-man says he was happy to help and it only costs him $60 to help, I'm a little confused then Jon shows up...again, I know. He had some convoluted plan in the works for three months to get to know me ad to tell me he liked me. I think he's silly that he didn't just come out and say it from the beginning. I'm now flustered and start thinking I'd kiss him, or that I'd like a kiss from him I wake up.
I try to get back into the dream, but no, I'm pretty much wide awake, which is pretty damn irritating. I lay in b thinking things over because there's not much else I can do but be irritated that I haven't seen Jon since Friday, not really, so I can't really do anything. Yeah, there's facebook and I have his number, but I get crazy embarrassed at the thought of saying anything over the phone. Yeah, I'm an idiot, I know.
----
So dreams...yeah.
Jasmine P.
June 20, 2010
Sharing as Default is Wrong
If anyone who's reading this paid a drop of attention to the things I linked to back in May and maybe April during the very large Facebook ruckus what I'm saying now will be fairly recognizable and familiar. I was looking on Google to see what's been said about facebook in the news recently, nothing really major about the site, but looking at one site and seeing a sentence I've seen before made this idea click for me.
"In January, CEO Mark Zuckerberg had said that his company was updating its systems to "reflect what the current social norms are." So when Facebook announced in April that it would automatically enroll users into new features such as Instant Personalization--which handed users' publicly available Facebook info to selected Websites that users visited--the implication was that users' wishes, not the company's bottom line, prompted the move from a largely private system shared only with approved friends to a largely public system that freely gave data to search engines, marketing companies, and anyone else who wanted it." (1)
That entire paragraph makes oh so little sense. If that was the case people would be walking around, in real life, all the time telling people their full name, their age, sexual orientation, etc, all the time. It wouldn't be something discussed in confidence like it is now, it would be introduced as soon as you met somebody. There are actually things I've learned about people from their facebook pages that I'm not sure I knew from conversations. What I'm saying is, how can one site dictate how people are going to act? I don't share everything everywhere. I have different e-mail accounts for different things for a reason. My last name is not visible in full for a reason. I never made a nickname/url thing for a reason. If people want to find me they have to know me, know something about me, or know people who know me. I try to maintain a viable amount of control over my account because I don't know who may stumble across my account at any time. But more simply than that I interact differently in different circles. Who I am in front of my Grandma is not quite who I am in front of friends at school, which is still a bit different from how I act in front of friends from high school, cousins, my brothers, my sister, my father, everyone. I act different around different people, everyone does. Fine, I'll concede; not everyone but many people.
I don't think of that type of subterfuge as lying so much as I think of it as protection. Keeping friends close and enemies closer, but what's acceptable in some circles is not acceptable in all circles. I keep my account fairly locked down so people know can access it already know most of me or I'm comfortable with them being in the confidence of knowing more about me. But, with what I share here and what I don't share the world does not need to know. There are but so many people I'm friends with that don't have some connection with at least one other person I know somewhere.
What I'm saying is, how can sharing be the default if people work so hard to maintain different selves? How I present myself in a class is not how I present myself in a coffee shop. I think that's what bothers me more about seeing faculty outside of the academic situation because there's a certain expectation for one place that's different for another place. People know or expect different things and boiling it all down to what's common on both levels leave me as being very little of me as I try not to confuse or offend one or the other.
When you look at what sites say are the short comings of facebook you'll see what I said reiterated, probably in a more logical fashion. "As everything, Facebook is also used for good and bad activities too. In an interview with Mmegi, some critics launched a backlash against this ubiquitous website of modern civilization. They indicated that Facebook could be bad for one’s health - and wealth, career, personal relationships, living arrangements and reputation. They also asserted to the fact that the site can also be disturbingly addictive. With the issue of possible Facebook addiction comes its abuse." (2)
Everyone had different social circles. The biggest issue with facebook is that it wants to connect all of everyone's social circles in one place. That would be less detrimental in my mind if it was focused on one circle and not all circles. What goes on behind closed doors affects what goes on outside but so much. People's religious beliefs or their thoughts on other people's sexual orientation or political beliefs should not affect their jobs, but with bosses and coworkers knowing more about what their colleagues do over the weekends being more prevalent knowledge facebook is a downfall. It's the downfall to privacy and people don't like that. I understand how pleasant it is to have everything aggregated on one website and not having to shuffle all across the internet to interact with different people, but that would probably be the best step forward for social interaction. Keeping things in their various boundaries and comfort zones would probably be a lot less detrimental in the long run.
Sites/Sources:
1: http://www.pcworld.com/article/199162/can_you_really_trust_facebook.html?tk=hp_new - PC World
2: http://www.mmegi.bw/index.php?sid=10&aid=66&dir=2010/February/Monday15 - Mmegionline
Jasmine P.
"In January, CEO Mark Zuckerberg had said that his company was updating its systems to "reflect what the current social norms are." So when Facebook announced in April that it would automatically enroll users into new features such as Instant Personalization--which handed users' publicly available Facebook info to selected Websites that users visited--the implication was that users' wishes, not the company's bottom line, prompted the move from a largely private system shared only with approved friends to a largely public system that freely gave data to search engines, marketing companies, and anyone else who wanted it." (1)
That entire paragraph makes oh so little sense. If that was the case people would be walking around, in real life, all the time telling people their full name, their age, sexual orientation, etc, all the time. It wouldn't be something discussed in confidence like it is now, it would be introduced as soon as you met somebody. There are actually things I've learned about people from their facebook pages that I'm not sure I knew from conversations. What I'm saying is, how can one site dictate how people are going to act? I don't share everything everywhere. I have different e-mail accounts for different things for a reason. My last name is not visible in full for a reason. I never made a nickname/url thing for a reason. If people want to find me they have to know me, know something about me, or know people who know me. I try to maintain a viable amount of control over my account because I don't know who may stumble across my account at any time. But more simply than that I interact differently in different circles. Who I am in front of my Grandma is not quite who I am in front of friends at school, which is still a bit different from how I act in front of friends from high school, cousins, my brothers, my sister, my father, everyone. I act different around different people, everyone does. Fine, I'll concede; not everyone but many people.
I don't think of that type of subterfuge as lying so much as I think of it as protection. Keeping friends close and enemies closer, but what's acceptable in some circles is not acceptable in all circles. I keep my account fairly locked down so people know can access it already know most of me or I'm comfortable with them being in the confidence of knowing more about me. But, with what I share here and what I don't share the world does not need to know. There are but so many people I'm friends with that don't have some connection with at least one other person I know somewhere.
What I'm saying is, how can sharing be the default if people work so hard to maintain different selves? How I present myself in a class is not how I present myself in a coffee shop. I think that's what bothers me more about seeing faculty outside of the academic situation because there's a certain expectation for one place that's different for another place. People know or expect different things and boiling it all down to what's common on both levels leave me as being very little of me as I try not to confuse or offend one or the other.
When you look at what sites say are the short comings of facebook you'll see what I said reiterated, probably in a more logical fashion. "As everything, Facebook is also used for good and bad activities too. In an interview with Mmegi, some critics launched a backlash against this ubiquitous website of modern civilization. They indicated that Facebook could be bad for one’s health - and wealth, career, personal relationships, living arrangements and reputation. They also asserted to the fact that the site can also be disturbingly addictive. With the issue of possible Facebook addiction comes its abuse." (2)
Everyone had different social circles. The biggest issue with facebook is that it wants to connect all of everyone's social circles in one place. That would be less detrimental in my mind if it was focused on one circle and not all circles. What goes on behind closed doors affects what goes on outside but so much. People's religious beliefs or their thoughts on other people's sexual orientation or political beliefs should not affect their jobs, but with bosses and coworkers knowing more about what their colleagues do over the weekends being more prevalent knowledge facebook is a downfall. It's the downfall to privacy and people don't like that. I understand how pleasant it is to have everything aggregated on one website and not having to shuffle all across the internet to interact with different people, but that would probably be the best step forward for social interaction. Keeping things in their various boundaries and comfort zones would probably be a lot less detrimental in the long run.
Sites/Sources:
1: http://www.pcworld.com/article/199162/can_you_really_trust_facebook.html?tk=hp_new - PC World
2: http://www.mmegi.bw/index.php?sid=10&aid=66&dir=2010/February/Monday15 - Mmegionline
Jasmine P.
June 15, 2010
Intelligence and Knowing You're Intelligent
Disclaimer(?): I'm not trying to sounds vain here, but this is what I've experienced from having "above 'average' intelligence" in school and the education system. Long story short, it fucks you up, or it just fucks me up, we'll see.
----
So, it's pretty common knowledge now that schools and school systems test the shit out of children every year to find out who's 'gifted and talented (GT)', to find out who has the ability for more abstract thinking than their peers, so they can put them in classes to challenge and strengthen this type of thinking. This is relatively easy to do because there are a metric shit-ton of other tests going on generally if you tell a kid they have to take a test, they'll do what you ask.
Well, this is what it was like for me 15 years ago in elementary school when more parents told their kids to sit down and shut up, as opposed to now where it's always a compromise between parent and child. Also 15 years ago when it's not like children weren't respected and spoken to on their level by their teacher, but their teachers found ways to deal with them and it was closer to 1 in 15 being on Ritalin, or something else for ADD, as opposed to 1 in 5.
This isn't about that, this is about being an 'advanced thinker' and having people acknowledge that you're not 'average.'
Yes, as a kid I was proud to learn that I was 'intelligent' enough to be put into a special class for people who understood in second grade why triangles and domes are stronger than straight lines; in a class where in fourth grade I decided to use 'queer' by it's proper dictionary definition. Only odd thing about use of 'queer' is other people in my class laughing so it showed a part of my out-of-the-loop-ness that happens every now and again because I'd only ever known queer to mean something was strange or odd and not an insult to homosexual people.
But I digress. I'm saying from a young age, what...about 8 when I started in the 'advanced' classes in second grade, I was told I was different. I was told I was smarter than my peers. This information went straight to my head, giving me my inflated ego. I mean, who at the age of 8 wouldn't be all over the fact that they were 'better' than someone else? Also, to be honest, I enjoyed the GT course for a few reasons: it got me out of regular class once a week, what we did was interesting, and I was told I was better than other people. (Aside: maybe this started my superiority complex...) Third grade I went to a different elementary school where the entire class was GT, we were doing fourth grade work. Aspects of that year sucked, not the work so much as the school, not an encouraging environment so I went back to my original elementary school. I did get to raise chicks in my third grade class, an now I'm wondering what happened to the chickens and roosters. I don't know why I never did ask that question.
I went back to my primary elementary school for my last three years and went back to a 'pull out' GT program. In middle school I was in a GT program all day, every day, except this time it was called the IBMYP- the International Baccalaureate Middle Years Program. Upper level thinking, reading, writing all the time now. I've been taught MLA citation format ever since the seventh grade started. It also introduced me to who would be in most of my classes for the next six years. Seriously, my school system didn't lock down the IB program, in high school at least, but it was fairly contained. Many people took more than one IB class so it was fairly common on the first day of class to see about 1/3 of your first period class also in your second period class. I mean, my graduating class was something around 300-350 students. Of that number I think we had about 75 get the IB diploma, and another 100 or so get one or more IB certificates for the individual IB exams they passed.
Well, I've spent much of my time chronicling my education and what it was like, kind of. We all knew each other, would cheat off of each other and had been told we were special, smart for many years. We got to read multiple banned books over the years. Hell, I think at least one of my teachers tried for everything to be banned, and not just by religious groups, but by anyone. It made for interesting reading to say the least.
As I was saying earlier, sometimes being 'smart/er' sucked. I got tired of hearing "you're too smart to be failing" or "you're smart, so if you only applied yourself..." That shit never helps, it makes it worse because I'm already irritated that I wasn't passing, I don't need to be reminded that I'm failing, generally for stupid reasons. I said I was never good in a quiet environment, and my ability to focus is a bit worse when I'm in a quiet room because then I start making my own music for entertainment instead of drifting in and out of ignoring music that's playing while I do something. Hell, I've got music playing while I write this and I'm writing alright. I was never good at tests, in testing situation because it was always unnaturally quiet. It was a forced heavy silence, like an extended pregnant silence. Since it felt uncomfortable it distracted me more than noise might have.
Showing you were smart as a kid was just as bad as failing. I have been told 'You speak good English' many times. Every time I smile and say 'thank you' while inside I respond 'you don't.' Every time. I have been called articulate many times, my cousin told me I spoke like 'white people,' but he doesn't use proper grammar or pronunciation, I think he was trying to make fun of me, not to sure though. I was a reader as a kid, I still am. I actively seek out controversial, weird or interesting things to read. When I read comics I like something that questions or critiques our culture, same goes with novels and film. I also turn around and love and appreciate much lower brow humour. I enjoy The Shawshank Redemption just as much as I enjoy Tropic Thunder or The Fifth Element. Yes, Tropic Thunder does have more to it than the explosions and the silly, but that's what people see. I like explosions and boom! I like talking and critiquing, I like getting and understanding 'smart' things and enjoying 'not-smart (?)' things.
With what I've said I still haven't quite gotten to my point. The biggest flaw in being smart if knowing that you're smart. You want to be recognized as such when you succeed and when you don't you don't want people to think too hard about it because it's salt in the wound. There are things I've realized, things I know about myself from sitting and dwelling on it. I wonder, how many people sit down and think about when they stop thinking of themselves as a kid, and actually think of themselves as an adult? I'm not talking about turning 18 or 21 and saying 'I can smoke, drink, vote and die for my country; I'm an adult.' I'm talking about how many people can actually acknowledge and articulate, to some degree, why they think of themselves now as an adult. While talking with Alex this weekend we spoke about this for a minute which drunk, but we both have come to the point in our lives where we're looking less to our parents for guidance and we both want to strike out on our own and forge our own paths. In my mind stopping and attempting to put into words a gradual change like that is a very heady thing to do, thinking and dwelling and focusing.
Being smart, intelligent, gifted has been my life in the education system. No one is more annoying than I am with myself for bad grades. When I try to explain my career plans to my family I can hear the disappointment in their voices when I say I don't want to go into science anymore. That doesn't bring me down as much as it annoys me when I say I want to work for myself, drawing my own comics. They keep trying to dissuade me thinking it's childish precociousness and it's not. They think it's about money, I'll find the money, getting money's the easy part. Working the job, the career, I really want is the hard part.
Want to know another shitty part about being smart? I know why I'm depressed almost every time. Usually it's some sort of 'I don't feel loved' bullshit. Every now and again it's about my mom being dead. Knowing I'm not at a point to forgive my father for all of his bullshit, or any of it, I know I'm not ready and I know why. He won't listen, he won't try to listen. He thinks of me as a child, I'm not a child anymore. I don't think I'm a young adult anymore, I just am an adult. I think I'm finally moving out of categorization limbo, now everyone I know needs to learn this so they don't think of me as less then I am.
See, that thought process right there, I want to be respected on my level; I want to be taken seriously on my level. Not everyone is on my level. I think ultimately that's why I drifted away from people from high school. Not just that they knew the 'old' me, but that they weren't really looking to be Adults yet, they were looking to be Young Adults. I've gone back to speaking with some of them and it seems things are leveling back out, we're reaching our next maturity level.
Jasmine P.
----
So, it's pretty common knowledge now that schools and school systems test the shit out of children every year to find out who's 'gifted and talented (GT)', to find out who has the ability for more abstract thinking than their peers, so they can put them in classes to challenge and strengthen this type of thinking. This is relatively easy to do because there are a metric shit-ton of other tests going on generally if you tell a kid they have to take a test, they'll do what you ask.
Well, this is what it was like for me 15 years ago in elementary school when more parents told their kids to sit down and shut up, as opposed to now where it's always a compromise between parent and child. Also 15 years ago when it's not like children weren't respected and spoken to on their level by their teacher, but their teachers found ways to deal with them and it was closer to 1 in 15 being on Ritalin, or something else for ADD, as opposed to 1 in 5.
This isn't about that, this is about being an 'advanced thinker' and having people acknowledge that you're not 'average.'
Yes, as a kid I was proud to learn that I was 'intelligent' enough to be put into a special class for people who understood in second grade why triangles and domes are stronger than straight lines; in a class where in fourth grade I decided to use 'queer' by it's proper dictionary definition. Only odd thing about use of 'queer' is other people in my class laughing so it showed a part of my out-of-the-loop-ness that happens every now and again because I'd only ever known queer to mean something was strange or odd and not an insult to homosexual people.
But I digress. I'm saying from a young age, what...about 8 when I started in the 'advanced' classes in second grade, I was told I was different. I was told I was smarter than my peers. This information went straight to my head, giving me my inflated ego. I mean, who at the age of 8 wouldn't be all over the fact that they were 'better' than someone else? Also, to be honest, I enjoyed the GT course for a few reasons: it got me out of regular class once a week, what we did was interesting, and I was told I was better than other people. (Aside: maybe this started my superiority complex...) Third grade I went to a different elementary school where the entire class was GT, we were doing fourth grade work. Aspects of that year sucked, not the work so much as the school, not an encouraging environment so I went back to my original elementary school. I did get to raise chicks in my third grade class, an now I'm wondering what happened to the chickens and roosters. I don't know why I never did ask that question.
I went back to my primary elementary school for my last three years and went back to a 'pull out' GT program. In middle school I was in a GT program all day, every day, except this time it was called the IBMYP- the International Baccalaureate Middle Years Program. Upper level thinking, reading, writing all the time now. I've been taught MLA citation format ever since the seventh grade started. It also introduced me to who would be in most of my classes for the next six years. Seriously, my school system didn't lock down the IB program, in high school at least, but it was fairly contained. Many people took more than one IB class so it was fairly common on the first day of class to see about 1/3 of your first period class also in your second period class. I mean, my graduating class was something around 300-350 students. Of that number I think we had about 75 get the IB diploma, and another 100 or so get one or more IB certificates for the individual IB exams they passed.
Well, I've spent much of my time chronicling my education and what it was like, kind of. We all knew each other, would cheat off of each other and had been told we were special, smart for many years. We got to read multiple banned books over the years. Hell, I think at least one of my teachers tried for everything to be banned, and not just by religious groups, but by anyone. It made for interesting reading to say the least.
As I was saying earlier, sometimes being 'smart/er' sucked. I got tired of hearing "you're too smart to be failing" or "you're smart, so if you only applied yourself..." That shit never helps, it makes it worse because I'm already irritated that I wasn't passing, I don't need to be reminded that I'm failing, generally for stupid reasons. I said I was never good in a quiet environment, and my ability to focus is a bit worse when I'm in a quiet room because then I start making my own music for entertainment instead of drifting in and out of ignoring music that's playing while I do something. Hell, I've got music playing while I write this and I'm writing alright. I was never good at tests, in testing situation because it was always unnaturally quiet. It was a forced heavy silence, like an extended pregnant silence. Since it felt uncomfortable it distracted me more than noise might have.
Showing you were smart as a kid was just as bad as failing. I have been told 'You speak good English' many times. Every time I smile and say 'thank you' while inside I respond 'you don't.' Every time. I have been called articulate many times, my cousin told me I spoke like 'white people,' but he doesn't use proper grammar or pronunciation, I think he was trying to make fun of me, not to sure though. I was a reader as a kid, I still am. I actively seek out controversial, weird or interesting things to read. When I read comics I like something that questions or critiques our culture, same goes with novels and film. I also turn around and love and appreciate much lower brow humour. I enjoy The Shawshank Redemption just as much as I enjoy Tropic Thunder or The Fifth Element. Yes, Tropic Thunder does have more to it than the explosions and the silly, but that's what people see. I like explosions and boom! I like talking and critiquing, I like getting and understanding 'smart' things and enjoying 'not-smart (?)' things.
With what I've said I still haven't quite gotten to my point. The biggest flaw in being smart if knowing that you're smart. You want to be recognized as such when you succeed and when you don't you don't want people to think too hard about it because it's salt in the wound. There are things I've realized, things I know about myself from sitting and dwelling on it. I wonder, how many people sit down and think about when they stop thinking of themselves as a kid, and actually think of themselves as an adult? I'm not talking about turning 18 or 21 and saying 'I can smoke, drink, vote and die for my country; I'm an adult.' I'm talking about how many people can actually acknowledge and articulate, to some degree, why they think of themselves now as an adult. While talking with Alex this weekend we spoke about this for a minute which drunk, but we both have come to the point in our lives where we're looking less to our parents for guidance and we both want to strike out on our own and forge our own paths. In my mind stopping and attempting to put into words a gradual change like that is a very heady thing to do, thinking and dwelling and focusing.
Being smart, intelligent, gifted has been my life in the education system. No one is more annoying than I am with myself for bad grades. When I try to explain my career plans to my family I can hear the disappointment in their voices when I say I don't want to go into science anymore. That doesn't bring me down as much as it annoys me when I say I want to work for myself, drawing my own comics. They keep trying to dissuade me thinking it's childish precociousness and it's not. They think it's about money, I'll find the money, getting money's the easy part. Working the job, the career, I really want is the hard part.
Want to know another shitty part about being smart? I know why I'm depressed almost every time. Usually it's some sort of 'I don't feel loved' bullshit. Every now and again it's about my mom being dead. Knowing I'm not at a point to forgive my father for all of his bullshit, or any of it, I know I'm not ready and I know why. He won't listen, he won't try to listen. He thinks of me as a child, I'm not a child anymore. I don't think I'm a young adult anymore, I just am an adult. I think I'm finally moving out of categorization limbo, now everyone I know needs to learn this so they don't think of me as less then I am.
See, that thought process right there, I want to be respected on my level; I want to be taken seriously on my level. Not everyone is on my level. I think ultimately that's why I drifted away from people from high school. Not just that they knew the 'old' me, but that they weren't really looking to be Adults yet, they were looking to be Young Adults. I've gone back to speaking with some of them and it seems things are leveling back out, we're reaching our next maturity level.
Jasmine P.
May 23, 2010
Concepts of Beauty
My Grandmother keeps trying to get me to change what I like about myself. We're supposed to be going on a cruise this August around the Bahamas. When I spoke to her last week she told me what it was like on the boat, "you're going to forget you're on a boat, it's like being in a mall' or she'd tell me about the Governer's Ball which happens one night on the ship, and that I have to be dressed nicely for dinner. I'm like 'alright' and she continues asking me if I'm going to 'get my hair done' or wear earrings, or telling me I can't wear denims, she's old and doesn't usually say 'jeans' for whatever reason.
I try to listen, but when she asks me an honest question I decide I'm going to answer honestly:
-"Will you get my hair done in a beauty salon": no, I like my hair short and natural
-"well, will you go to a barber? How much does it cost?"; between $10-15, and no, my friend can cut my hair;
-"how do you know they can cut hair? What if you don't like it?": I'll cut it all off then let it grow back. Hair will grow back.
-"You're not going to wear a hat every day, your hair won't grow long if you wear a hat all the time.": I like my hats and I don't want my hair to grow long, Grandma.
-"Fine, you're going to wear earrings right?": No Grandma, they irritate my ears, I don't like 'em. As I kid I didn't like them.
"Well, you have to dress nice, you can't go out to eat wearing denims. When you go out with your friends you have to look nice so you can meet people."
You'd think I'd be dizzy from rolling my eyes so much. I finally get her to stop this ridiculous attempt at changing me by explaining I wear and present myself how I like. I don't like dresses or earrings so I don't wear them. I like my hats so I wear them. I have the commonsense to not go to a nice dinner in baggy messy jeans or cargos, but it's the same commonsense that keeps me from going to a messy art class in a really nice shirt. It's neither the time nor is it the place. No, I won't wear make-up, no I won't conform to society's conventions of beauty because I don't like them.
I am me, let me prove to you my life is fine, that I'm happy, when I'm not depressed - my appearance doesn't affect my depression, so I'm happy in how I look, how I dress and ow I carry myself. I have been told that things I have ae nice, that they look good, stop trying to compare me to my mother. Stop trying to compare me to other people, be happy that I'm happy.
I don't know. I could easily just say yes to everything she says I should do, but I wouldn't be happy. It's better to get this stupid non-important argument out of the way now instead of it being a stupid non-important argument in three months when sh sees me to wearing earrings, not wearing make-up, not wearing nail polish. I'll primp to my own tastes not hers. The thing is, like I said, I like how I dress, I like the clothes I wear, I don't want to 'work' that goes into being 'beautiful' and that shit all costs too much. Concealer, mascara, lipstick, blush, facial wash, zit cream, nail polish, nail polish remover, hair rollers, hair relaxant. If I had one of each of those things I'd've spent $100 easy. Why? To fit into what society considers to be beautiful. I want to buck trends and fuck convention.
It's like I questioned in this image http://dichigo.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d1kcwn9 a scribble from a few years ago, I want to go back to it again at some point, but why should I listen to the magazines, the voices outside. To hell with them, if I'm happy how I am, why do I have to listen to people out there who work so hard to change themselves and others to their own conventions and beauty, to what they think society would like. No, that's not me.
When I leave for that cruise I will have some nice shirts, I will have one or two skirts, I will also have sneakers, sandals, denim gouchos, one or two of my hats, either my FreakAngels or Israeli Paratrooper bag, at least one sketchbook, pens, pencils, two or three novels and my DS, plus other odds and ends. I'll have things to look nice in, to look nice with that I like, and I'll have the things I like that are comfortable. It's what I like
Jasmine P.
I try to listen, but when she asks me an honest question I decide I'm going to answer honestly:
-"Will you get my hair done in a beauty salon": no, I like my hair short and natural
-"well, will you go to a barber? How much does it cost?"; between $10-15, and no, my friend can cut my hair;
-"how do you know they can cut hair? What if you don't like it?": I'll cut it all off then let it grow back. Hair will grow back.
-"You're not going to wear a hat every day, your hair won't grow long if you wear a hat all the time.": I like my hats and I don't want my hair to grow long, Grandma.
-"Fine, you're going to wear earrings right?": No Grandma, they irritate my ears, I don't like 'em. As I kid I didn't like them.
"Well, you have to dress nice, you can't go out to eat wearing denims. When you go out with your friends you have to look nice so you can meet people."
You'd think I'd be dizzy from rolling my eyes so much. I finally get her to stop this ridiculous attempt at changing me by explaining I wear and present myself how I like. I don't like dresses or earrings so I don't wear them. I like my hats so I wear them. I have the commonsense to not go to a nice dinner in baggy messy jeans or cargos, but it's the same commonsense that keeps me from going to a messy art class in a really nice shirt. It's neither the time nor is it the place. No, I won't wear make-up, no I won't conform to society's conventions of beauty because I don't like them.
I am me, let me prove to you my life is fine, that I'm happy, when I'm not depressed - my appearance doesn't affect my depression, so I'm happy in how I look, how I dress and ow I carry myself. I have been told that things I have ae nice, that they look good, stop trying to compare me to my mother. Stop trying to compare me to other people, be happy that I'm happy.
I don't know. I could easily just say yes to everything she says I should do, but I wouldn't be happy. It's better to get this stupid non-important argument out of the way now instead of it being a stupid non-important argument in three months when sh sees me to wearing earrings, not wearing make-up, not wearing nail polish. I'll primp to my own tastes not hers. The thing is, like I said, I like how I dress, I like the clothes I wear, I don't want to 'work' that goes into being 'beautiful' and that shit all costs too much. Concealer, mascara, lipstick, blush, facial wash, zit cream, nail polish, nail polish remover, hair rollers, hair relaxant. If I had one of each of those things I'd've spent $100 easy. Why? To fit into what society considers to be beautiful. I want to buck trends and fuck convention.
It's like I questioned in this image http://dichigo.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d1kcwn9 a scribble from a few years ago, I want to go back to it again at some point, but why should I listen to the magazines, the voices outside. To hell with them, if I'm happy how I am, why do I have to listen to people out there who work so hard to change themselves and others to their own conventions and beauty, to what they think society would like. No, that's not me.
When I leave for that cruise I will have some nice shirts, I will have one or two skirts, I will also have sneakers, sandals, denim gouchos, one or two of my hats, either my FreakAngels or Israeli Paratrooper bag, at least one sketchbook, pens, pencils, two or three novels and my DS, plus other odds and ends. I'll have things to look nice in, to look nice with that I like, and I'll have the things I like that are comfortable. It's what I like
Jasmine P.
May 12, 2010
Faceook Privacy Issues and a Rant
Facebook's newest privacy policy
Why does any of my personal information have to be linked to what other people have put up or to Wikipedia? I currently have no information for my education, movies, books, interests or anything because I have to share it, or you can see it because Facebook has really retarded visibility previews. I don't know what anyone other than myself can see in relation to my information, but I disagree that it has to be linked to something else other than either a)Facebook or b) my network. If I want to find more information about what anyone I know has under their information, I can look it up myself without having to use a short cut given by Facebook, or forced upon me. This is bullshit and I feel that it's infringing upon my rights to keep things private. Yes, I want to share my reading or movie interests with my friends, but I don't feel that to do that I have to have it linked to whatever Facebook decides I need to be linked to. Yes, I say I like something, but does that mean I endorse it? Not always, and not for everyone.
I will again share a link I saw a few weeks ago [click here] How to opt out of some of Facebook's new changes that they never really announced. I mean, really, who updates or looks at their personal information every day? Hell, most of the time I only really look at anyone else information when I friend them, I have better things to do than to memorize what my friends love, and just reading it here would make me feel like a really creepy stalker.
[Click Here -2] This is a Facebook page about governing the changes, if you disagree with what they have automatically decided for you to share, you can voice your opinion here, now, let's see if they really care. Irritatingly you have to 'like' the site governance before you can comment, but if I must, I will. Only I plan on voice my opinion, do you? So far only 4 thousand of the few million Facebook members have voiced an opinion about the privacy changes, if you disagree with them say something. The more who do, the sooner we might be able to make our private information private again.
Another stupid Facebook thing I'm getting tired of is having to jump through hoops to see information about a group or idea. Like, if you want to see a list you have to join and possibly share the list with your friends. This hearkens back to about two years ago when there were a million and a half quizzes on the site and to see your result you -had- to share it with your friends to see some inane information. And if you wanted to see it again, you had to send it to more friends. Yeah, no. All those stupid lists and jokes are on the Internet and I'm sure I've seen many of them in some form or another over the years. It's not work it, I have other more interesting things I can be doing than whatever stupid tasks there are to see some group's information. Every day I see more and more little things that make me want to delete my account, clear out everything and leave one link to my main blog where all my other information can be found. My photos would only be on Flickr, what's on my mind on twitter and blogger and this would just be a front to my sites.
A few more Electronics Foundation Frontier (EFF) pages relating to current Facebook changes and Facebook in general
[Click Here 3] [Click Here 4]
[Click Here 5] - A very useful link, did you know your friends list was automatically visible to EVERYONE on Facebook?
Linked from an EFF post [Click Here 6] - Mark Zuckerberg "does not believe in 'privacy'"
Note, some of that information I may have shared in the past.
[Click Here 7] Our 'rights and responsibilities' according to Facebook
"Your privacy is very important to us. We designed our Privacy Policy to make important disclosures about how you can use Facebook to share with others and how we collect and can use your content and information. We encourage you to read the Privacy Policy, and to use it to help make informed decisions." From the beginning of that link. What the hell.
Good luck protecting your privacy.
Jasmine P.
Why does any of my personal information have to be linked to what other people have put up or to Wikipedia? I currently have no information for my education, movies, books, interests or anything because I have to share it, or you can see it because Facebook has really retarded visibility previews. I don't know what anyone other than myself can see in relation to my information, but I disagree that it has to be linked to something else other than either a)Facebook or b) my network. If I want to find more information about what anyone I know has under their information, I can look it up myself without having to use a short cut given by Facebook, or forced upon me. This is bullshit and I feel that it's infringing upon my rights to keep things private. Yes, I want to share my reading or movie interests with my friends, but I don't feel that to do that I have to have it linked to whatever Facebook decides I need to be linked to. Yes, I say I like something, but does that mean I endorse it? Not always, and not for everyone.
I will again share a link I saw a few weeks ago [click here] How to opt out of some of Facebook's new changes that they never really announced. I mean, really, who updates or looks at their personal information every day? Hell, most of the time I only really look at anyone else information when I friend them, I have better things to do than to memorize what my friends love, and just reading it here would make me feel like a really creepy stalker.
[Click Here -2] This is a Facebook page about governing the changes, if you disagree with what they have automatically decided for you to share, you can voice your opinion here, now, let's see if they really care. Irritatingly you have to 'like' the site governance before you can comment, but if I must, I will. Only I plan on voice my opinion, do you? So far only 4 thousand of the few million Facebook members have voiced an opinion about the privacy changes, if you disagree with them say something. The more who do, the sooner we might be able to make our private information private again.
Another stupid Facebook thing I'm getting tired of is having to jump through hoops to see information about a group or idea. Like, if you want to see a list you have to join and possibly share the list with your friends. This hearkens back to about two years ago when there were a million and a half quizzes on the site and to see your result you -had- to share it with your friends to see some inane information. And if you wanted to see it again, you had to send it to more friends. Yeah, no. All those stupid lists and jokes are on the Internet and I'm sure I've seen many of them in some form or another over the years. It's not work it, I have other more interesting things I can be doing than whatever stupid tasks there are to see some group's information. Every day I see more and more little things that make me want to delete my account, clear out everything and leave one link to my main blog where all my other information can be found. My photos would only be on Flickr, what's on my mind on twitter and blogger and this would just be a front to my sites.
A few more Electronics Foundation Frontier (EFF) pages relating to current Facebook changes and Facebook in general
[Click Here 3] [Click Here 4]
[Click Here 5] - A very useful link, did you know your friends list was automatically visible to EVERYONE on Facebook?
Linked from an EFF post [Click Here 6] - Mark Zuckerberg "does not believe in 'privacy'"
Note, some of that information I may have shared in the past.
[Click Here 7] Our 'rights and responsibilities' according to Facebook
"Your privacy is very important to us. We designed our Privacy Policy to make important disclosures about how you can use Facebook to share with others and how we collect and can use your content and information. We encourage you to read the Privacy Policy, and to use it to help make informed decisions." From the beginning of that link. What the hell.
Good luck protecting your privacy.
Jasmine P.
May 9, 2010
Some Thoughts on Sex, Religion and Other
I don't know if I'll ever get laid, I say this because of the hidridenitis I have around my vagina. It sucks enough sitting or bull shit, but the idea of anything other than my hand near it is kind of horrifying, all I can imagine is the pain. Not the good type of sexual pain that turns into pleasure, the horrible type of contact pain that happens when anything touches sore, irritated skin. It's a very depressing thought. When I first contemplated having sex with this shit and the fact that no sane man would ever want to go anywhere near it I actually wanted to kill myself. The idea lasted no longer than one, two days, then I realized I was being stupid. I no longer wish to die because I don't think I'll ever get laid, it just depresses me. I now wonder if I'll end up trying to push away any relationship that could happened because the proverbial 'happy ending' might not occur. That's a thought that's more difficult for me to shove away because I know that if I saw what I had on someone else I wouldn't want to touch it. It looks gross and it hurts like mofo. Everything makes it hurt. Movement of fabric over them, soap and water, stretching; hell, sometimes breathing hurts or even my blood moving underneath my skin causes sharp unpleasant pain. But I digress, I'll get back to my thoughts on sex, and my sexuality.
Sometimes I fear I won't get anybody because of how I act an dress. I am female, but I have said things and I think things that are not generally considered to be especially feminine. Those things make me worried that I won't be loved by someone. I know there are people out there that like people like me, but that's much harder to believe when none of them have approached me. I also wonder if because of how I dress that people think I'm a lesbian. I like men, I have no problem with ladies who like ladies, hell, I'm all for it. The only time not is when they're interested in me. I have said I'd like a compliment from anyone, male or female, but I think I'd be taken aback if too many women started coming onto me. I know I don't carry myself especially femininely, but it's another ball park if someone thought I liked women.
As I said before I'm all about whatever makes someone happy, but I guess a minor exception would be a female who was interested in me. I'd be nice about letting them down, but I doubt that will ever happen. As for men who like men, women who like women, or both who like both, party on! Do what and who [as long as it's not rape, incest or pedophilia] makes you happy. I have nothing wrong with homosexuality. I don't understand why other people have such an issue with people who like something they're against. I read an article, or heard a story somewhere where someone was gay and they asked a protester or someone who was against homosexuality why they cared so much. The response was along the lines of they were upset that they were going to hell.
Now, I care about people, I care a lot about the people around me, but I can't care to that extent about someone I don't know. I'm not religious, I'm Agnostic and/or Deist - something started it and isn't involved. I don't believe in heaven or hell. I believe that when you die, you're gone, just like when you're born you appear. It's not like your soul or spirit existed, got trapped in a body and is now free, it's there, then when you die, it's gone. What's the point of an afterlife? Why live a life, hellish or awesome, just to be shoved into another life that is a consequence of your first life. That doesn't make much sense. I don't believe if you're homosexual you go to hell, I don't believe that if you're heterosexual you go to heaven. I believe in what goes on on earth, if you're a good person life is alright, if you're a bad person life is less alright because you're possibly in prison or on the lam. Then when you die, you're gone. Said and done.
Back to the ideas of sex, I'd rather no know my friend's sexual proclivities. It's one thing to know if they've had sex, it's another thing to know any details. My life is going quite well without whatever details there may be. When I think to much about it, which is at all, my active imagination starts to picture things my life would have been fine without my thinking of. I mean, it's one thing to help and give advice. Actually, with my mind that's pretty bad, but it's another thing to hear about it. What he/she was like, how it started. I don't need to know. I'll wave a flag and cheer, but thinking much more than that is weird for me. I'll cheer for an promote safe sex and not using an abortion to 'fix' things, but after that I'm fine with not knowing. This goes for both genders.
I've noticed I really don't care about hearing people objectify either gender I'll just start tuning it out. Hearing all that much more is another thing. Talking about sex in general is fine, but putting a name, face, body to the situation is a lot weirder. I'm fine with knowing my friends quite well, but when my mind starts setting up a scene for them to go at it I need to stop, I need something else to think about.
I really don't know where this was supposed to go, this is a thought that I started some time ago. I figure I'll address it again at some point, but here's some type of starter. It's quite jumbled and nothing is really complete, but I feel it was good for me to give it a go and get some of thoughts down.
Jasmine P.
Sometimes I fear I won't get anybody because of how I act an dress. I am female, but I have said things and I think things that are not generally considered to be especially feminine. Those things make me worried that I won't be loved by someone. I know there are people out there that like people like me, but that's much harder to believe when none of them have approached me. I also wonder if because of how I dress that people think I'm a lesbian. I like men, I have no problem with ladies who like ladies, hell, I'm all for it. The only time not is when they're interested in me. I have said I'd like a compliment from anyone, male or female, but I think I'd be taken aback if too many women started coming onto me. I know I don't carry myself especially femininely, but it's another ball park if someone thought I liked women.
As I said before I'm all about whatever makes someone happy, but I guess a minor exception would be a female who was interested in me. I'd be nice about letting them down, but I doubt that will ever happen. As for men who like men, women who like women, or both who like both, party on! Do what and who [as long as it's not rape, incest or pedophilia] makes you happy. I have nothing wrong with homosexuality. I don't understand why other people have such an issue with people who like something they're against. I read an article, or heard a story somewhere where someone was gay and they asked a protester or someone who was against homosexuality why they cared so much. The response was along the lines of they were upset that they were going to hell.
Now, I care about people, I care a lot about the people around me, but I can't care to that extent about someone I don't know. I'm not religious, I'm Agnostic and/or Deist - something started it and isn't involved. I don't believe in heaven or hell. I believe that when you die, you're gone, just like when you're born you appear. It's not like your soul or spirit existed, got trapped in a body and is now free, it's there, then when you die, it's gone. What's the point of an afterlife? Why live a life, hellish or awesome, just to be shoved into another life that is a consequence of your first life. That doesn't make much sense. I don't believe if you're homosexual you go to hell, I don't believe that if you're heterosexual you go to heaven. I believe in what goes on on earth, if you're a good person life is alright, if you're a bad person life is less alright because you're possibly in prison or on the lam. Then when you die, you're gone. Said and done.
Back to the ideas of sex, I'd rather no know my friend's sexual proclivities. It's one thing to know if they've had sex, it's another thing to know any details. My life is going quite well without whatever details there may be. When I think to much about it, which is at all, my active imagination starts to picture things my life would have been fine without my thinking of. I mean, it's one thing to help and give advice. Actually, with my mind that's pretty bad, but it's another thing to hear about it. What he/she was like, how it started. I don't need to know. I'll wave a flag and cheer, but thinking much more than that is weird for me. I'll cheer for an promote safe sex and not using an abortion to 'fix' things, but after that I'm fine with not knowing. This goes for both genders.
I've noticed I really don't care about hearing people objectify either gender I'll just start tuning it out. Hearing all that much more is another thing. Talking about sex in general is fine, but putting a name, face, body to the situation is a lot weirder. I'm fine with knowing my friends quite well, but when my mind starts setting up a scene for them to go at it I need to stop, I need something else to think about.
I really don't know where this was supposed to go, this is a thought that I started some time ago. I figure I'll address it again at some point, but here's some type of starter. It's quite jumbled and nothing is really complete, but I feel it was good for me to give it a go and get some of thoughts down.
Jasmine P.
April 29, 2010
Dream: Rage Fever
Everything between the dashes is in edited English, mostly edited for spelling. A little bit edited for grammar, as you can see. And I am hella amused that I typed 'alarm cock' not once, but twice. I don't know why I was repetitive about The Guy's place, it just happened.
i keep waing up with fits of feverish blind rage. I don't know how they stared, it happened a the time. clickwork. I'd be fine all day, bt nigt would roll around and fits of rage and fever would hapen. I'd have chills, 'd start blacking out ad the only thing that would calm me from being hugged, one of those awesome ugs from behind. It was weird. I'd be weak unable t stand up, unable to move. Things would get broke, in a fit of rage.
---
--
I keep wakin up with fits of feverish blind rage. I don't know how they started, it happened all the time. Clockwork. I'd be fine all ay, but night would roll aroung and fits of rage and fever would happen. I'd have chills, I'd start blacking out and the only thing that would calm me was being hugged, one of those awesome hugs from behin. It was weird. I'd be weak, unable to stand up, unable to move. Things would get broken, in a fit of rage.
--
---
Before my alarm cock rang, I was at some guy's place, tall dude, he was too nice to me. It was day now, after a fit of rage. My father was there to get me, but from the looks of it I'd gone over there befoire in warlier rage things. I had ceramics pieces that needed to be glazed, and The Guy was awesome and started lazing them for me, so I'd have them for my final.
---
--
Before my alarm clock rang, I was at some guy's place, tall dude, he was too nice to me. It was day now, after a fit of rage. My father was there to be me, but from the looks of it I'd gone over there before in earlier rage things. I had ceramics pieces that needed to be glazed, and The Guy was awesome and started glazing them for me, so I'd have them for my final.
--
---
There was a weird bit from a backetall game I went to for whatever reason where some dude, a frend, kept trying ot run around naked. It was like he was having a Blind Fit of Eros, he tried having sex with his girlfriend and I saw his penis, it was werd, tiny and shrivvled. Tere wee a lot f penises shown at the game, they were all tiny and shrivvled Burnt looking.
---
--
There was a weird bit from a basketball game I went to, for whatever reason, there some dude, a friend, kept trying to run around naked. It was like he was having a Blid Fit of Eros, he had tried having sex with his girlfried and I saw his penic. It was weird, tiny, and shriveled. There were a lot of penises shown at the game. They were all tiny and shriveled. Burnt looking.
An army/navy cpatain or high ranking official was standing in front of me at one point, leaving onto the pet covered plexilass then...no, it was a teacher-coach from my school who was lleaning when a commanding occifer gave me the hirdest slap on te ass. Wild man. I somehow tried to get up and fell on the groun I was buy a friend, Clint, - from Borjo - and I mumbled if I had a fever call an ambulance. My teperature was 112, low fo a rage fit, but thy called anyway, I was losing control. I remmeber stumling around my apartment, kinda of, and friends drifted in and out of my awareness and got things togther for me.
---
--
An Army/Navy cpatain or high ranking official was standing in front of me at one point, leaning onto the net covered plexiglass...then not, it was a teacher-coach from my school who was leaning- when a commanding officer gave him te hardest slap on the ass. Wild man. I somehow tied to get up and fell on the ground, I was by a friend, Clint, - from Borjo- and I mumbled I had a fever, call and ambulace. My temperature was 112F, low for a Rage Fit, but they called anyway, I was losing control. I remember stumbling around my apartment, kind of, and friend drifted in and out of my awareness and got things together for me.
--
---
Next, I was at The Guy's house trying to udertad, but I idn't. My father showed up and tried to ask me if I was jut internallizing all my anger and I should exprss it, I said I did internallize, e tried to itnerript me, bt i interrupted im and tried to explain things that made me angry. The Gy was now glazing some random ceamic piece I had made, and my alarm cock woke me p.
---
--
Next I was at The Guy's house trying to understand, but I didn't. My father showed up and tries to ask me if I was just internalizing my anger and I should express it. I said I did internalize, he tried to interrupt me, but I interrupted him and tried to explain things that made me angry. The Guy was not glazing some random ceramic piece I had mad and my alarm clock woke me up.
--
---
----
I jst typed this up comppletely bleary eue, which I'm saying accounts for som of te typos, I'm tred from getting like, 1hour of sleep, I laid down at 4.35, I rembmer seeing 4.45a and then I guess I fell asleep and right into a fit of rage.
---
--
I just typed this up, completely bleary eyed, which I'm saying account for some (all) of the typos. I'm tired from getting like, 1 hour of sleep. I laid down at 4:35, I remember seeing 4:45am and them I guess I fell asleep and right into a fit of rage.
--
---
---
i feel as if Alex )theory101) was there somewhere, bt I don't remembe anything much lse than what I typed.
---
--
I feel as if Alex (theory101) was there somewhere, but I don't remember anything much else than what I typed.
Jasmine P.
i
a car was supposed to take me to The Guy's place, but it was weird, all full of old people. Well, they were 4 old chinese men in motrozed wheel cairs. The little little driver offere, bt Clint-friend spoke wo me and kept me calm then I was at The Gy's hous, calmer. Mayb I'd rallen asleep. I don't know, but what' what I kinda remember, i think. There may be more, but I dunno.
---
--
I (?)
A car was supposed to take me to The Guy's place, but it was weird, all full of old people. Well, there were 4 old Chinese men in motorized wheelchairs. The little little driver offered, but Clint-friend spoke to(?) me and kept me calm, then I was at The Guy' house, calmer. Maybe I'd fallen asleep. I don't know, but what I kinda remember, I think. There may be more, but I dunno.
--
---
----------------
----------------
----------------
I remember my apartment being weird. There was a tiered pink jacuzzi bath tub, and everything was get red. It was like being in a lowly lit club and not my apartment. That probably explains when there were random people there. It still doesn't make much sense.
i keep waing up with fits of feverish blind rage. I don't know how they stared, it happened a the time. clickwork. I'd be fine all day, bt nigt would roll around and fits of rage and fever would hapen. I'd have chills, 'd start blacking out ad the only thing that would calm me from being hugged, one of those awesome ugs from behind. It was weird. I'd be weak unable t stand up, unable to move. Things would get broke, in a fit of rage.
---
--
I keep wakin up with fits of feverish blind rage. I don't know how they started, it happened all the time. Clockwork. I'd be fine all ay, but night would roll aroung and fits of rage and fever would happen. I'd have chills, I'd start blacking out and the only thing that would calm me was being hugged, one of those awesome hugs from behin. It was weird. I'd be weak, unable to stand up, unable to move. Things would get broken, in a fit of rage.
--
---
Before my alarm cock rang, I was at some guy's place, tall dude, he was too nice to me. It was day now, after a fit of rage. My father was there to get me, but from the looks of it I'd gone over there befoire in warlier rage things. I had ceramics pieces that needed to be glazed, and The Guy was awesome and started lazing them for me, so I'd have them for my final.
---
--
Before my alarm clock rang, I was at some guy's place, tall dude, he was too nice to me. It was day now, after a fit of rage. My father was there to be me, but from the looks of it I'd gone over there before in earlier rage things. I had ceramics pieces that needed to be glazed, and The Guy was awesome and started glazing them for me, so I'd have them for my final.
--
---
There was a weird bit from a backetall game I went to for whatever reason where some dude, a frend, kept trying ot run around naked. It was like he was having a Blind Fit of Eros, he tried having sex with his girlfriend and I saw his penis, it was werd, tiny and shrivvled. Tere wee a lot f penises shown at the game, they were all tiny and shrivvled Burnt looking.
---
--
There was a weird bit from a basketball game I went to, for whatever reason, there some dude, a friend, kept trying to run around naked. It was like he was having a Blid Fit of Eros, he had tried having sex with his girlfried and I saw his penic. It was weird, tiny, and shriveled. There were a lot of penises shown at the game. They were all tiny and shriveled. Burnt looking.
An army/navy cpatain or high ranking official was standing in front of me at one point, leaving onto the pet covered plexilass then...no, it was a teacher-coach from my school who was lleaning when a commanding occifer gave me the hirdest slap on te ass. Wild man. I somehow tried to get up and fell on the groun I was buy a friend, Clint, - from Borjo - and I mumbled if I had a fever call an ambulance. My teperature was 112, low fo a rage fit, but thy called anyway, I was losing control. I remmeber stumling around my apartment, kinda of, and friends drifted in and out of my awareness and got things togther for me.
---
--
An Army/Navy cpatain or high ranking official was standing in front of me at one point, leaning onto the net covered plexiglass...then not, it was a teacher-coach from my school who was leaning- when a commanding officer gave him te hardest slap on the ass. Wild man. I somehow tied to get up and fell on the ground, I was by a friend, Clint, - from Borjo- and I mumbled I had a fever, call and ambulace. My temperature was 112F, low for a Rage Fit, but they called anyway, I was losing control. I remember stumbling around my apartment, kind of, and friend drifted in and out of my awareness and got things together for me.
--
---
Next, I was at The Guy's house trying to udertad, but I idn't. My father showed up and tried to ask me if I was jut internallizing all my anger and I should exprss it, I said I did internallize, e tried to itnerript me, bt i interrupted im and tried to explain things that made me angry. The Gy was now glazing some random ceamic piece I had made, and my alarm cock woke me p.
---
--
Next I was at The Guy's house trying to understand, but I didn't. My father showed up and tries to ask me if I was just internalizing my anger and I should express it. I said I did internalize, he tried to interrupt me, but I interrupted him and tried to explain things that made me angry. The Guy was not glazing some random ceramic piece I had mad and my alarm clock woke me up.
--
---
----
I jst typed this up comppletely bleary eue, which I'm saying accounts for som of te typos, I'm tred from getting like, 1hour of sleep, I laid down at 4.35, I rembmer seeing 4.45a and then I guess I fell asleep and right into a fit of rage.
---
--
I just typed this up, completely bleary eyed, which I'm saying account for some (all) of the typos. I'm tired from getting like, 1 hour of sleep. I laid down at 4:35, I remember seeing 4:45am and them I guess I fell asleep and right into a fit of rage.
--
---
---
i feel as if Alex )theory101) was there somewhere, bt I don't remembe anything much lse than what I typed.
---
--
I feel as if Alex (theory101) was there somewhere, but I don't remember anything much else than what I typed.
Jasmine P.
i
a car was supposed to take me to The Guy's place, but it was weird, all full of old people. Well, they were 4 old chinese men in motrozed wheel cairs. The little little driver offere, bt Clint-friend spoke wo me and kept me calm then I was at The Gy's hous, calmer. Mayb I'd rallen asleep. I don't know, but what' what I kinda remember, i think. There may be more, but I dunno.
---
--
I (?)
A car was supposed to take me to The Guy's place, but it was weird, all full of old people. Well, there were 4 old Chinese men in motorized wheelchairs. The little little driver offered, but Clint-friend spoke to(?) me and kept me calm, then I was at The Guy' house, calmer. Maybe I'd fallen asleep. I don't know, but what I kinda remember, I think. There may be more, but I dunno.
--
---
----------------
----------------
----------------
I remember my apartment being weird. There was a tiered pink jacuzzi bath tub, and everything was get red. It was like being in a lowly lit club and not my apartment. That probably explains when there were random people there. It still doesn't make much sense.
April 28, 2010
Glossing Over Life
Oh hello there April 28th. My life has been to enh these past few weeks...well, just key days and most nights when the depression hits that so far today hasn't been shit. It has been three years since my mom died in her hospital bed in Reston, VA. It was shit.
I had something that was much more entertaining after I addressed her death, but now I don't feel like going into any of it. I spoke about Nerimon - Alex Day- and the fact that everything I'd written before was much more entertaining as I had been thinking in an English accent...he's English. I lso spoke about plans for next week and going into finals week. And Pringles, I was eating Pringles before. I'd gone on about needing a shower and not wanting my roommate to see me naked, which has happened before, it was awkward. I like the original blog a lot more. I also addressed my possible carpal tunnel, it's a mofo in my left wrist, if I have it. I really don't know. My internet acted up, so I had no draft saved, this bites. I'm making lunch, grits and ham, then I'm working on my fundamentals of drawing and design portfolio.
Jasmine P.
I had something that was much more entertaining after I addressed her death, but now I don't feel like going into any of it. I spoke about Nerimon - Alex Day- and the fact that everything I'd written before was much more entertaining as I had been thinking in an English accent...he's English. I lso spoke about plans for next week and going into finals week. And Pringles, I was eating Pringles before. I'd gone on about needing a shower and not wanting my roommate to see me naked, which has happened before, it was awkward. I like the original blog a lot more. I also addressed my possible carpal tunnel, it's a mofo in my left wrist, if I have it. I really don't know. My internet acted up, so I had no draft saved, this bites. I'm making lunch, grits and ham, then I'm working on my fundamentals of drawing and design portfolio.
Jasmine P.
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