Worst-Hair-Ever!!!

Is it requisite to have an identity crises every time you get your hair cut? For me it is....I am officially never ever going to be asked on another date again! I have the ugliest hair on the planet! I know its wrong, and vain, but my hair is a huge part of my identity, and now I look like a bad 35 years old cut from 10 years ago! No matter who I go to, they underestimate my mane of hair that is so thick, I always leave looking like I am wearing a Cleopatra wig! Okay, its not that short this time, but short enough that I bawled my eyes out, and my parents were serious wondering who they let back in their house this Christmas! Am I brave enough to rev it up with my own snips? NEVER, go the hair-dresser your mom does!!! I have been given this advice before, and ignored it.

TidBits

1. They overbooked my flight home by 10 people...guess who spent 7 hours in the SLC airport, but now has $400, to use where ever Delta flies! Guess I am going to have to take a vacation by next Dec. 16th!

2. Since my sister lives in Germany, and my brother is on his mission, it is my turn to bond with dad. Spent a little over an hour in the Ranch & Home store...and so much more. Jeans were on sale for $9.99, no, I didn't buy any.

3. I know I am home when mom says, "I liked your hair best when..." This time she was assertive, and now my hair will be chopped in approx. 2 hours from now. Are moms ever satisfied? This is my question.

4. And what am I going to do for the next 3 weeks? Hmph. Boy, oh boy.

The Place Where Computers Go to Die

I have taken to calling my bedroom, The Place Where Computers Go to Die*, because I have become a collecting spot for used computers. I inherited by brother-in-law's old Windows 98 Laptop, and then my brother's roomate's (who went on a mission) 3 year old XP, which he didn't want anymore, and then a 4 year old 98 from my parents, two printers and a scanner. Herein lies the problem. The XP had a hard drive crash, (probably from video games and music downloads the kid had on it), and I sent it to my parents who reinstalled a new hard drive, and it now lives in the geneology library in my home stake. The 98 my parents gave me works, although it doesn't have a word processor on it, (duh), but the printer won't, and the laptop I take everywhere has Word Perfect on it, and an archaic version at that! My roomates computer has 98 on it, but it mysteriously erases floppy disks. So, no matter what I do I have computer problems! If I type on the laptop, the Word Perfect docs, won't open in Word, and the XP docs from the library computers won't open in any of the 98's at my apartment! Oddly, I have had jobs fixing computers/software problems, and don't own a nice computer myself....When I am rich, a nice laptop will be the first thing I will buy! Until then, aghhghh!!!! Its amazing I get anything done!

*Spoof of the old Disney movie, Island at the Center of the Earth, which has in it, The Place Where Whales Go To Die, really quite disturbing, dead peices of whale everywhere and lots of dense fog!

Luxurious Like Egyptian Cotton

Some people would secretly like to escape to a spa, to the mountains, to the ancient ruins of Rome, or to the library. I would secretly like to escape to a Lush life. Walking in sparkly clothing, dripping with sparkly diamonds, walking down sparkly lit streets, shopping in sparkly stores, and then hop into my black chevy silverado, and drive through the streets filled with big city lights! Okay, scratch that, my very handsome boyfriend, or chauffer, driving me past the streets filled with big city lights! In my secret life, I am luxurious!

So, the closest I can probably get, is last night with Scully, dressed in heels, P-Coats, her's burgundy and mine camel, hats and purses, walking from her high rise apartment in SLC, to the Gateway Mall, which is lit for the holidays, eat at cheap but delicious Costa Vida, and have Scully humor me while I imagined buying sparkly clothes at Banana Republic, trying on sparkly coctail rings at Z-Gallerie, and coveting EVERYTHING in Anthropologie, where I gave in and bought one, on-sale $8.00 sparkly photo frame!

The Awakening, and Positive Thinking

The Awakening

I am (right now) positively thinking about how wonderful it will be to skip all of my classes tonight, because really, who needs to go to a literature class discussing Kate Chopin's The Awakening, that started heated arguments (which I contributed to) during Monday's class, about who was right and who was wrong in that novella. If you haven't read it, the protagonist, Edna, wakes up one day realizing there is more to life than her husband and kids, and considers an affair with a certain young Robert, who loves her more, and gives her more attention and more appreciation than her husband, (who mistreats her a little). And you know, there are some things men and women are never! going to agree on. All the girls in the class felt sympathy for her, and how she felt constrained by her roles in life, and how it wasn't so odd she should have an identity crises. One girl quoted Frued who said that "anatomy determines destiny," and how by virtue of being a woman, a girl will eventually find herself a wife and/or mother. She added that different women fill these roles differently, and it is not necessarily an easy task!

The boys said, she could have done this, and this, and this, and that to make her marriage better, it was her fault, how dare she even think about another man/another life, what a stupid woman! (Neither side condoned adultery, but the men were sooo unsympathetic, it was amazing!) I don't want to walk into that battlefield again tonight!

Positive Thinking

Yesterday I was sure my life was awful, and I could have blogged all about these awful things, and I might still...but I decided to try the power of positive thinking on for size. It was spurred by Panini's inviting me over for dinner. She makes killer Borsch! All I needed was a little blood-red-soup, containing beef, three onions, two garlic cloves, and a whole lot of beets and cabbage, combined with some nice girls and cute boys to eat with, and I felt better! I decided to think positive, life is not so bad. I then discovered, the treacherous snow-driving, provided an opportunity for me to have better driving skills; that the song on the radio, (bad, but so deliciously good), "Come A Little Closer," by Dirks Bently was the perfect mood music for studying in the library, that BYU library stays open until 2 a.m. during finals, which provide me with quality time with my lab top and books, and that oreos and good-boy-conversation with my roomate who was still awake when I returned was a perfect ending to my day. There are things to be thankful for everyday.

I Judge by Appearances

Okay, not always, but I do. When am I ever going to stop doing this? I was writing a paper on the religious dialogue of the writers of the American Renissance today at the Provo Pub Lib, and a smelly, long haired, bearded, sports atire wearing, obviously unwashed man sat right in front of me. I reacted with a wrinkled up nose of repulsion. He came and left the lab a few times, as did I, and on one of his absences I peaked at his paper work. Yep! He is writing a very interesting paper on some aspect of the nature of women, with a whole pile of libabry books with literary criticism in them! When he returned he made a really cute quip about red heads being the smartest women! I laughed and smiled~ he made my afternoon, with his friendlienss. And I got a little pain in my side, over my judgemental-ness!

You would think I would learn! A few years ago KBYU sent a couple of students down to L.A. to interview some students participating in the affirmitive action movement in California public schools. I was taken out to dinner with a couple of multi-cultural students. We went to The Burbon Street Grill, (Yum!) I of course declined the beverages! A young man named Carlos told me of growing up on the streets and in the slumns of East L.A. He had a scar on his face, gangster attrire, and a lisp. As he told me of the struggles of poor, minoirty students getting into/through college, I felt cozy, and admittedly a little priviledged. We then talked literature. He was an English major at UCLA, on scholarship. I mentioned that I was studing English/Journalism, and had a love for literature as well. He proceeded to ask me if I had read this person and that, and I gulped in humility, as I realized that he had read 100 circles around me! I guess I was feeling not so much guilty about not having read as much as him, as I was feeling guilty at judging his intellegence by his racial idenity, economic status, and apparel. I didn't believe that at poor, gangster-like man could have read so much more than me. I was humbled, and I respected him, for his intellegence, and the drive he had to get into and succeed in college. It was a paradeim shifting experience for me, and even though I don't judge near as much as I used to, I still kick myself when I do.

Watch out men, I got up this morning...

I woke up today with a condition. A condition that I am not ashamed to admit~ is not an anomoly! Every so often I just wake up in such a good mood I can hardly stand it. And I feel so utterly in love, its ridiculous. (Esp. when I'm not in love with anyone!) Maybe its the gray sky, or the oreos I had for breakfast with my yogurt, or the romantic book I finished last night at 1 a.m., or any number of odd things, but sometimes I just wake up, and any man could probably make me fall in love with him that day! Crazy, I know. I just feel warm, and fuzzy, and content, and I will probably smile at everyone I see today. Yes, I'm odd! But I love it~.

A Poem, and An Aside

A poem to think about, that I didn't really understand, but its deep, it moved me when I read it. Ideas welcomed,

Love Song

I have loved you during the powwow
And I have loved you during the rodeo.
I have loved you from jail
And I have loved you from Browning, Montana.
I have loved you like a drum and drummer
And I have loved you like a holy man.
I have loved you with my tongue
And I have loved you with my hands.

But I haven't loved you like a scream.
And I haven't loved you like a moan.
And I haven't loved you like a laugh.
And I haven't loved you like a sigh.
And I haven't loved you like a cough.
And I haven't loved you well enough.

--Sherman Alexie


The Aside:

Washington people get lumped with Idaho, bumped with Oregon, stashed with Montana at times in a weird mix, and claim to be nothing but origional. I try to tell people what Washintonians are like, how from Seattle to Spokane, you are free to be what you want. It was one of the later states into the union and I think we keep that wild west, pioneering, free-thinking, not-bogged-down by too much history and tradition feel. It is as common to see someone in farmer gear, as gothic wear (even though it is out of date) or even a NorthFace fleece, kahki shorts and hiking boots. Nirvana and the grunge look come from Washington, Eastern Washington has tons of Mormons and various other religious conservatives. No, the whole state is NOT covered in pine trees, and we do have ethnic diversity, lots of Asian-Americans in the tech fields, and migrant Hispanics working in the farm fields, 29 different Indian tribes, that did NOT live in teepees, as well as Russian immigrants and German settlements--that have sausage festivals and lentil days. There is a huge rivalry between our two "big" schools, WSU and UW, and yes, at my high school, being smart and in honors classes was cool~.

Still, I don't know if it is all graspable, the unique flavor of Washington state. So, when I come across a passage so uniquely Washington, I have to annotate it. This is from Sherman Alexie's book, "Ten Little Indians." This passage is in reference to a lady politican, and it just struck me as funny, and could only be written by a Washintonian author.

"Yet another pretty liberal from Seattle! Her black business suit probably converted into a rainproof tent. She wore eyeliner, lipstick, and three-inch pumps at dinner, but she likely wore stupid T-shirts (George can't spell W!), blue jeans, and huge scuffed boots at the office. She'd probably run twenty-three marathons and climbed Mount Rainier sixteen times, and had great calves and extraordinary upperbody strength, and most certainly had scored 1545 on her SATs and earned some highly challenging and profoundly useless degree from an Ivy Leaque chop shop. She probably still had a cassette of the Smiths stuck in her car stereo: "Meat is murder! Meat is murder! Meat is murder!" I wanted her to fall in love with me," (Ten Little Indians, pg. 57.

R.S. Therapy

Going to a non-singles ward once in a while is theraphy I recommend for everyone! We are in such a strange time warp in singles wards, (and I mean that in the best possible way), and I forget that there is life beyond, until I get a healthy dose of a "real" Relief Society.

I have a love-hate relationship with my homeward Relief Society. I won't go without protection, because all of the well-meaning older ladies look at your left hand, ask you if you are dating anyone, and some are secretly looking you up and down and analysing what could possibly be keeping you single. In my case, I am sure they are looking at my hips! (Dad says it is all in my head, and it probably is!) However, what I love about my home ward Relief Society is the people. It never fails that I am brought to tears and touched by the spirit when I go. I look across the ladies in the Relief Society, that have known me from the day I was born, and known my parents for years before that, some who even knew my dad as a child, and I see great women of faith. I see my neighbor who's husband had an affair and they stayed married, now have a great marriage and all of their children went on missions and married in the temple. I see the woman who's husband died years ago, and finally she has found a wonderful second husband to marry, and they have served a mission together. I see women who have had abuse, sickness and death in their lives, as well, as beauitful, faithful children, and many many more blessings. Women who have been in and out of activity in the church, and women who are new converts.
Many of the girls I grew up with live in the ward still, and they have husbands, imported from BYU, and a few children crawling around their feet and screaming. In short, I see women lumpy and bumpy, all shapes and sizes, all ages, and types of beauty, who have so much faith. They are living the gospel, and testifying of it through their lives. And somehow when I visit, I realize I have a place in it, the "older" single girl in the ward, who for some reason keeps visiting every Christmas without a husband or kids!
But I realize my place among the sisters of the gospel, my place in God's plan, and it strengthens and renews my faith. And I realize, that in singles wards, where everyone in so concerned about looking cute, and finding husbands, that the church is still true, but at times, we are missing something. Sometimes, (and I should only speak for myself) we lose the bigger picture of the gospel, the bigger picture of the plan, and the bigger picture of our worth as daughters of God.

The Rites of Youth

I laughed last night as I lay in bed. I realized that I could hear my sister's (15) stereo playing Yellow Card right above me, (She has occupied my room the last few years since I moved out). I laughed because I suddenly realized that all my relative-guests, and my little brother all growing up could probably hear my Nirvana and Greenday and Guns and Roses or whatever else I "wasn't supposed to listen to," seeping through the floorboards in my upstairs bedroom. I so cautiously turned it down low, so that my parents didn't know "what kind of music," I was listening to! Now I realize, no matter how low you turn it, whomever is sleeping right below you can hear it just fine! I couldn't sleep, listening to my sister's music blaring, and I contemplated running up stairs and yelling at her to turn it off, or throwing something up to the ceiling to make a convienient bang! to make her turn it off. And it was then I realized, that no one ever once came up stairs to make me turn off the music my dad called, "long-haired-people" music, and no one ever let me know they could hear my musical selections through the floorboards. And even though, I tossed and turned in bed for over an hour, I went to sleep--smiling.

My 10 Favorite Books

In the spirit of going to Harry Potter tonight at 12 a.m., (have to be a book fan to do that right?!?!) and going to see the new Pride and Prejudice movie this Saturday, and with all the book-talk floating around, I just thought I would list my top 10 favorite books, more for my enjoyment than yours! Yes, some of these are kids books, and wow--how can you make a top 10 list! Too many favorite books to fit into that small number!


1. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Day -- Judith Viorst (kids picture book, and my favorite form of bibliotheraphy!)

2. Mara, Daughter of the Nile -- Eloise Jarvis McGraw (Juvenile Fiction)

3. Ivanhoe -- Sir Walter Scott

4. The Portrait of a Lady -- Henry James

5. The House of Mirth -- Edith Wharton

6. Jane Eyre -- Charlotte Bronte

7. Possession -- A.S. Byatt*

8. Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason -- Helen Fielding*

9. The Kitchen God's Wife -- Amy Tan*

10. The Bonesetter's Daughter -- Amy Tan*


Favorite Series: Harry Potter -- J. K. Rowling (of course!)


*Contain some adult material.

Please, tell me what I think!

So, I'm writing a research paper on Asian-American writers, and have read several works of criticism on various authors including one of my all-time favorite authors, Amy Tan. They go on and on about how Tan does this, and Tan does that, she says this, and she says that. This literary device--is a deliberate use of such such and such and such and such.

The reason I find this so funny, (albeit standard in the world of literary criticism) is that I recently read her auto-biography, The Opposite of Fate, and she humorously says, ~well, since unlike Stienbeck and others who are now dead, I am still alive and can refute literary criticism assigned to me by students and reviewers! She says she writes just for fun, writes exactly what she wants to write, does not intentionally say this or that, is not on a quest for enlightening the world about the Chinese culture, and does not feel she has to answer to the likes of Frank Chin and others who call her a sell-out and a conformist to white/dominant standards. She says she writes because if she didn't--what is inside of her would explode.

So, today sitting in the public library reading Sui-Ling Cynthia Wong's, scathing report on Tan, entitled "Sugar Sisterhood," I was told exactly what I think about, when I read Tan's novels.

According to Wong, this is what I get out of Amy Tan:

I [The American reading public], "enthusiasitic[ally] purchase [with a] pleasurable mixture of respect and voyeurism, admiration and condescension, humility and self-congratulation." And that I am allowed the position of feeling distanced, and better than Chinese-Americans, and can now segement the Chinese culture as an important source for my pleasure, and "accept and appreciate a "mythic" treatment of a remote but fascinating China." *

Maybe I am the only one that finds this quite funny, but I wrote in the margin of my photocopy,

"Oh, really! Please tell me how I am reading/ what I am getting out of my own favorite novels!"

I read Amy Tan, not to criticize or romantisize China, I read it because, well, I just like it!


*Sau-Ling Cynthia Wong, Sugar Sisterhood, The Ethnic Canon, Edited by David Palumbu Liu, Minnesota, Univeristy Press, 1995.

I aparently, belong in Paris

You Belong in Paris

Stylish and a little sassy, you were meant for Paris. The art, the fashion, the wine, the men! Whether you're enjoying the cafe life or a beautiful park... You'll love living in the most chic place on earth.

What City Do You Belong In?

Okay, so, aparently am stylish and sassy! LOL. Have never really wanted to go to Paris, lived in London for a stint, loved it there! Everything about the city, esp. the noise drew me in! I love the low hum of humanity, and the swirls of sights, sounds, colors, smells, and choas of the city, a feast for the senes. However, must admit, that as evidenced by my having borderline, WAY too much fun dressing up for Halloween as a Stepford Wife one night and Pirate the other, I guess I would revel in being a slave to fashion and dating excessivly handsome French men, as long as it was not too much like the scenes in Hemmingway's, The Sun Also Rises, there are a lot of ugly, drunk men in that one!

Monday Edition: Life is a Battlefield

"If only there was a G.I. Bill for girls. Just getting through a day was like walking a battlefield," (Shimmer, pg. 50).*

Ever felt that way? That life for women can be just like a battlefield? Call me pessimistic, but sometimes going to school, trying to be pretty, exercise, do the laundry, eat well, be social, fill church callings, be informed about the world, and keep up with friends, and have time to relax, deal with all the crazies that call upon you at work, do your family history, seems like a hard job! Not too mention, feel good about yourself, ignore negitive media images, ect., ect., ect., ect. (I can only imagine if i had kids too!)

I have realized that at times I have let this world make me "tough." And I will walk around, with almost an, "I dare you to be nice to me," or "I dare you to mess with me," look on my face. At times my mode of driving, and interacting with people in public places, can be defensive. A few weeks ago at a football game with Panini and her date, I was waxing sentimental over the trees, falling leaves, and mountains, and I said, "Whoa! Getting a little too sentimental!" And the boy said something to the extent of, that's not bad to show your soft side~. And that made me think. So, today, on Monday morning, which at times can seem the hardest, I am thankful for the people that help me be "soft."

This last weekend I went to get my fingerprints done at the local Provo Police Station. I joke about the fact that the 500 millionth person I have been in love with this year, is now the cute, cute man that takes fingerprints Thursday nights at the Provo Police Station! Why did I fall in love with him? (He's probably married, but I couldn't tell because he had gloves on), was that he was so nice to me! Treated me like I was the only person that had stepped into his office that day, and that he was happy to talk to me, and did, talk to me, with interest, about everything in my life, while inking up my fingers! I'm so in love! jk. Then, at the orientation meeting for my professional educators program, a very nice married man in line in front of me asked me which emphasis I was taking, and we chatted in line until it was time to sign in. I love nice people! And I love men that make me feel like a woman. And on Sunday, Panini and I poured over Halloween pictures, (both of us dressed as Pirates) and told each other how cute we looked in the photos! Both of us denying that we looked good, but of course the other looked gorgeous in this shot or that! LOL. My roomate died listening in the other room, and wouldn't let me forget what she had over heard!

The reason I mention all of these silly things, is that I am reminded that I am a woman, and that I should be lovley and kind, and not take the world on like an battlefield! I am thankful for people who are nice to me, and remind me to be nicer to others. So this week, call me sentimental, I am going to remember the things that make me a woman, and I am going to share them with others.

Monday Morning words of inspiration:

"Sometimes the commitment gets a little heavy and sometimes I wonder if I can really do this. Then I think of all that I have been given, and it is easy to get up and do a little something more."
~Marjorie Pay Hinckley


*Quote from Shimmer by Sarah Schulman, (a book about the shattering of the American Dream post WWII).

Jealous of my Love life yet?

So, almost weekly when I talk to my mother she says, "you met him yet?" Meaning, someone I would want to marry. She asks this when I'm dating someone, as well as when I am not. And honestly, I love her for it! She has more hope and faith in this dept. than I do! However, in preparation for all of the relatives who will ask the same thing, (only its not appreciated when relatives ask you!) over Thanksgiving, I'm preparing my answer...here is a draft:

Hmmphmmm. Attention Please. Ladies and Gentlemen, it has recently been brought to my attention that:

My attractiveness to memebers of the opposite sex has reached new bounds this year, I have have reached new climbs I never thought I would reach, let us examin the following:

1.) Halloween weekend, my entire exploits from that weekend of parties included, one Married Man, in a Mini-Van, at the Maverick Station, whom scared me so much, I didn't fill up my whole tank of gas, but stopped at $12. He said I looked like Audrey Hepburn, love the compliment, but any of you who know me, know my figure is a little more Marilyn than it is Audrey, I leave the Audrey, figure and hair, to Panini. I like to re-tell this one because of the alliteration of the MM in a MV at the MS. LOL.

2.) Sigh, I am loney without my UVSC stalker. He came up to me a couple of months ago, in the LA building, and said, "I really like your purple eye-shadow." He waits outside my class every Monday and Wensday evenings, but this last week, he caught me slipping in a side door, way down the other end of the building trying to avoid him, and sadly, my one stalker is now--- extinct. **Sniff**. (Seriously though, one conversation with me, and he stalked me for almost 2 months, should I be scared or flattered?) jk. I know what you are thinking, don't wear purple eye-shadow!

3.) I went to vote last night. Yes, yes I did. And I car-pooled with a local-neighborhood-aspiring-politician. On the way out we were asked to do an exit poll. My aspiring-politic-neighbor, got into a very long conversation over various issues and Mayoral candidates with Barbie and Ken, who live up the road from us. Barbie and the neighbor talked a very long time, and Ken, Barbie's husband said to me, "your obviously 'the wife.'" I said, no, no, I'm not acutally,....(more words)....but we live down in XXXX, just down the road from you." "Oh...you do....that's great." The effect was not lost on Ken, or me, realizing what I had just said. Getting into the car, I let my neighbor know that I was now, NOT his wife, but his LIVE-IN girlfriend! LOL. It really was funny, that path to sin really is a quick one! jk. And now the local politics, think I am an unavaliable, sinful, girlfriend. JK.

Disclaimer: Yes, these stories are true. Yes, I am still single, and am not, a live-in girlfriend. Yes, I find in humor in being single. Bring it on. JK.

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy

Like to know what you guys think about this one.

We were talking in my English class last night about the shows, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, and Will and Grace. When I first heard about/saw these two shows, I admit I was a little shocked, thinking, we are now bringing homosexuality into the home, and asking our families to accept it as okay. (Although, I admit I have watched and laughed as well!)

I never thought about these shows as--promoting stereotyping, and marginality. My professor was discussing the idea, that when we give representation of homosexuals in the media, we are essentially saying, "see, we are tolerant, you have representation in the main stream media," we then pat ourselves on the back and call ourselves, tolerant.

However, the main premise for Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, is homosexual males, helping heterosexual males, become more successfully heterosexual, by being more appealing to women. The end of every show, shows the "non-sexualized" homosexuals, enjoying their success, watching the heterosexual males get all the women, now that they are, 1- cleaner, 2- better dressed, 3- better mannered. Therefore, my professor said, we are not allowing those homosexual men, to have any other role, than a safe, stylish, non-sexual, non-threatening one we give them.

Will and Grace, he said, has a similar effect. We like Will, he is handsome, he is cute, and we can "pat him on the head" and allow him into our living room because of his non-threatening looks, and the fact that we never see him having sex, or acting predatory in anyway. Therefore, the premise of the show he says, is that we watch it because we see Will as so handsome, Grace as the hot babe, and we are waiting for Will to turn straight again, and whisk her away. Again, we don't allow Will to have his own sexuality, he is our--dominate culture allowed--acceptable version of gay.

(I'm not saying I necessarily agree with this, but it is interesting! My teacher did not mention that other little gay, man character who I can't remember his name, the dancer/singer one, which we could probably use as a rebuttal).

Anyway, also the Philadelphia Story, is about a gay man, (played by Tom Hanks) who has AIDS. The dominant cultures ideology is in this movie as well. Tom Hanks, is gay, but never has sex with anyone or kisses anyone, and in the story, the one time he does, is the one time he gets AIDS.

So, the whole point of the discussion was, that homosexuals' only representation in the media, is a representation that is seen through the lens of the dominant majority, (heterosexuals), and therefore, appear to give representation to homosexuals, but actually perpetuate stereotypes of those peoples, and allow marginality to continue.

We are essentially saying, it is okay to be gay, as long as you are the acceptable version, the little packaged version of yourself, that we are telling you you are. Otherwise, if you are not like those cute queer guys, or Will, we probably will still make fun of you, and treat you marginally.

Interesting?

One last note, similar media studies have been done with Black representation in the media as well, like The Cosby Show, in some people's opinions perpetuates stereotypes as well, because, now I didn't understand all of this one, (The Cosby Show was my favorite show as a child), they live in a world where they are never confronted with racism, (do you remember even one episode dealing with that topic?) And that the characters are essentially "in white face," meaning, they are a white family, having white family situations, but with black actors. And the issue is not so much that that is a stereotype, per say, but that that was all the "black" that was allowed on main stream television channels in that time period. We could accept "those" black people because they dressed like, and acted like us.

Again, I hold my own opinions, not necessarily represented here; but food for thought.

Friday Edition: Defunct Myths

Top Ten Defunct Myths from my Childhood:
(obviously pulled from different stages of my childhood)

1. Santa Claus is real.
2. Ralph Machio (The Karate Kid), is the hottest man on earth.
3. Its okay to wear red cordory pants under your Polyflinder dresses, in public.
4. All men have a full head of hair, lots of muscles, and can fix everything like my father.
5. All cats are girls, all dogs are boys.
6. If I eat sand, water, and a seed, I will grow a flower inside of me.
7. The worst possible embarassment is to be caught wearing a bra.
8. On the other hand, if you don't wear a bra, your chest will grow in all sorts of strange directions.
9. The 2nd worst possible thing on earth, is having the guy I like, know I like him.
10. I need to repent after singing, "believe it or not I'm walking on air" because obviously I cannot; and I am lying.


Weekly Words of Wisdom:

~Wear modest work out clothes; because you might just run into your English Proffessor at the gym, and you don't want him thinking about you in a sports bra next class period!

Don't be Praise Grudge

You know how someone can say somthing to you and it impresses upon your memory? And you carry it with you through the years, and that person probably has no idea! Well, a friend of mine once told me, that she does not give out praise very often because her praise was worth something, and it needed to be earned! Well, that has stuck with me through the years, because I believe the exact opposite! And I think she has only complimented me...hmm...don't remmeber. jk LOL. Why grudge someone your praise? Why not share with them how wonderful you think they are? I have since that point, made it even more of a point in my life, to be complimentary to people and praise them. I do not feel like the more I priase the less it is worth. So, I thank her for that paradiem shaping comment! I also attribute most of this attitude to my mother. Mom is not perfect, but one thing she is perfect about, is praising people. If I had ugly hair in a photo, mom could say, "but its red, so it can't ever be ugly!" This skill came in particularly in handy because of the nature of her daughter. Upon my entrance into the honors track/program in sixth grade, on the profile mom put, that I was a "sensetive girl," can you believe it? I cried about that one, yes, yes, I did. Displaying my sensetivity! LOL.

I was reminded of this today because my Adolescent Literature teacher told the whole class, "XXXXXX turned in another great paper," and on the paper she wrote, "you will make a wonderful teacher." Made my day. Those are the types of teachers, that I preform best for.

So, if you think someone is cute today, or like their outfit, or notice their hardwork, or their thoughtfulness, or a great talent they have, don't grudge them a compliment. Make their day!

I'm Not Saying She' A Gold-digger

I have been thinking about this since Panini's post on what we have preference about in members of the opposite sex ect. And from a conversation with my home teacher who says that older women, have everything they want in life, and a man, already planned out down to the color of the couch in the future livingroom that they will someday have! And I think girls, that maybe all of us have a little gold-digger in us somewhere? jk, I guess I speak only for myself. I have been making new goals lately on all kinds of things, including what I expect out of the future man that I at some point will marry. My ideas change constantly! And probably my ideal man is a conglomeration of every man that I have at one point liked, which for me, would be an endless number of people! Starting with my thrid-grade love who, I suddenly had a crush on again last weekend! because he so nicely offered to walk me to the bathroom at church and back again, and that was just so cute and thoughtful! I'm easily entertained, yes. Anyway....it was a flavor of the afternoon....

(p.s. this is not "personals" ad!)

If I were to publish my fantasy, I would have to say, he would be handsome of course, have startling eyes, blue is my preference, and have something attractive and irritable about him, such that I would not really want to like him, but I just simply would not be able to help it! He would be passionate about things, not necessarily passionate about the same things I am passionate about, but he would have passions, opinions, interests, and strong ideals. I like the kind that do not need to be in the lime light, and do not need to be the center of attention at all times. Quiet presence; who doesn't have anything they feel that they need to prove to the world. Don't know if that and the following would go together, but hopefully he would not be the type to be jealous if I was a social person who liked to talk to and converse with all types of people, who would not mind if I at times enjoy a bit of the spotlight myself. Hopefully patient, hopefully a sense of humor, hopefully wants a bundle of children, and will let me mess up the house with scrapbooking and art projects. Would appreciate someone who can hold an intellectual conversation on just about anything, and enjoy literature. Would love someone who likes to camp, and off-road, and otherwise enjoy nature, have an adventurous and artistic streak, and as Anne of Green Gables says, "could be bad if he wanted to be, but chooses not to," which at times is expressed by things like, cheating during board games, and stealing a kiss.

I have lots of extras I would like, okay, well, maybe only one big one. I would love it if he had a big black pickup truck, but that, is probably going to be a fantasy that I will only maintain in my head! As for my future house, I have 3 things I would love: one, a garage I can park in, so that I don't have to scrape off my windows, two, a big bed with lots and lots and lots of huge fluffy pillows on it, and three, a library with a big comfy couch and romantic lighting!

Okay, this post is too revealing, and probably won't be up long, but let it be known, that I really do just want a nice-looking guy who thinks I'm cute, who is righteous and loves me, and is realtively "normal," first guy I really find like that, I will snatch away! jk

Anyway, enough of my musings...

UVSC vs. BYU...duke it out.

Coffe Talk: UVSC vs. BYU
Topic: Literature

How did I ever manage to read Moby Dick without talking Queer theory? Or Emily Dickinson without talking about unrequited sexual desire? How did I graduate from college without reading any black/lesbian/activist literature? I went to BYU that is how.

So, I guess the most probable question is, is it a good thing? I am going to say---I go with XXXXXX on this one. Here are my thoughts on it.

At UVSC we talk about sex in novels, and that can be odd to my post-BYU self. However, not so much that I want to talk about sex, but, that we have read some really, really, important peices of literature, that if we had screened them, because of the sex in them, I would not have gotten to learn about the rest of the things the book teaches. Dialogues on feminism/feminist movement, racism, ethnic America, and coming of age, in some ways, (not that I advocate sex in books, and I am not saying go out and blindly read these novels), are not as complete without in some regard understanding how their attitudes towards sex effect their lives, or how some cultures have problems with sexual abuse ect.

Next thought; very very interesting to have teachers that are non-LDS. My American Reniassance teacher talks about themes such as, (from Moby Dick) topics of, well, what if we knew everything, would we be stunned at the utter chaos in the world, would it drive us to madness, if we comprehended all that God comprehends, would it make us realize that God is just playing with us as mortals, and/or has very little to do with the world? Has man created God? in order to give him answers, and meaning to pain? Moby Dick is often compared to God, and how we cannot see his head, and he does not tell us his mysteries. And we learn through the story of Moby Dick, (well one reading of it is) that God is cruel.

Edgar Allen Poe addresses topics very similar. Do we make up or own realities and assign reason to things that reason cannot explain? In, The Fall of the House of Usher, the narrator has super-human senses, he senses everything, sight, sounds, smells, the touch of fabrics, to such an extent that it drives him mad! We compared it to, The Murders on the Rue Morge, and how the detective Dupin, has a similar hyperactive tendency, and his is the actue sense of the analytic, he understands everything to the point of being able to see where your eyes are going and read your exact thought. But, these people are "mad" and "crazy" their sense of knowing everything makes them diseased. In, The Black Cat, the narrator murders cats brutally and then is driven to murder his wife, and his madness, suggested by Poe, is that he feels the need to come up with answers for everything. Assign reason to the absurd.

Anyway, point being, these same books, taught by LDS professors, would be entirely different. We would be discussing these from gospel perspectives. We know that God loves us, we know there is reason in pain, and I 100% believe it. I have an unshaken testimony of the Church. I am just simply putting it out there, that I feel like I am gaining new insights and perspecitves on these peices of literature, that I would not have ever had--because I am seeing them through eyes--with a view point very different from my own. There is a lot to be gained there. And, I am really enjoying it!

Maybe I should say it is a tie, that I find value in both ways of teaching literature, one of the things I loved at BYU was being able to understand the world through a gospel context, but I'm also "loving" some things about UVSC too.

Maybe there should be book editors to take out the sex in books, or the offensive terms ect., CleanReads instead of CleanFlicks? Don't know, food for thought.

Is there something wrong with Emily Dickinson?

Okay, there must be something wrong with me if I am starting to "get" Emily Dickinson, I have never understood her, in Jr. High, HighSchool, anything, but now, at 26! I think I am starting to get her, and that scares me! We were discussing her poems in class, and I started to sickeningly realize, that, I feel like I have something in common with her!

Reading more of her poems, there seems alomst a sense of fear, of the unknown or the unexperienced maybe. I was thinking about that poem, Wild Nights, its like she is expressing a longing for something she has never experienced, and yet she wishes to stay moored, or stay put in Eden, in a state of inexperience or innocence maybe, and yet the"Sea," and its wildness, adventure, unknown territory of love/sex/whatever it maybe, yet unexperienced, frightens her as well as calls to her. In (305), Dickinson talks about despair and fear, and it seems to me, with the last part about the mind being smooth, and contented like the eyes on a bust, that that smoothness is almost/could be a paralyzation from the fear, she is as unmoveable as a bust, and the idea of the lack of contentetment/frustration from not beng able to see, and it knowing it cannot see, could be that she is paralyzed by her fear, her fear and despair keep her imobline, and outside of life. And she cannot get over maybe whatever her drawbacks/fobias are that keep her from living life. (609) talks about the fear of leaving, and then coming back and finding that things had changed or what not, but she talks about, "I laughed a crumbling Laugh That I could fear a Door Who Consternation compassed And never winced before." The door maybe showing how she has channeled her fear, and personified it in certain images, and that just that, well, not maybe that she is this huge recluse that cannot leave her house, but that maybe leaving her house and the door ect. represent her fear of living life, living the unknown. Who knows.

Also, seems like she is almost waiting for something to happen all of the time, waiting for her fate, her destiny, waiting for a big experience to happen, to come and rescue her, be it "noon" or some man, or something, but it seems almost like her future is dependent on someone coming and resucing her and taking her out of her circumstances, kind of like Hepzibah, in The House of the Seven Gables, who is waiting for a rich relative to come and take her away, and/or give her wealth ect., totally an illusion, ~very romantic idea~ but this idea that someone has to be an agent for her change/destiny, vs. trying to make it yourself.

Poems cited:

Wild Nights -- Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futine -- the Winds --
To a Heart in port --
Done with the Compass --
Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor -- Tonight --
In Thee!

c.1861

The difference between Despair
And Fear -- is like the One
Between the instant of a Wreck --
ANd when the Wreck has been --

The Mind is smooth -- no Motion --
Contented as the Eye
Upon the Forehead of a Bust --
That knows -- it cannot see --

c. 1862

c. 1861