France’s Tragedy Did Not Ask To Be Your Political Statement

I am horrified by the attacks in Paris, I have not been able to sleep for the last two nights. What happened there was a tragedy, a mindless attack by people who had no regard or understanding for the value of human life. There were 7 attacks, simultaneously, at crowded places, including suicide bombings at the European football game and “execution style” shootings at a concert.

It’s devastating, it’s terrifying, yet my social media keeps finding those who are using these attacks, and our responses to them, as political statements. It’s infuriating, it’s insensitive and downright ridiculous. I will give you two examples.

First, Donald Trump using the attacks to benefit his Presidential platform.

Donald Trump says the problem with the Paris attacks was that nobody had guns but the bad guys. Click image to watch the video.

No, the problem was that there were people who wanted to do this, and that they did it. End of story. Now you just demonstrated another issue, the issue that America literally can’t talk about anything but themselves for over ten minutes. Everytime I watched an American broadcast on this someone asks if there is any threat to America within ten minutes. Can we just focus on supporting those in unimaginable pain and fear for a day, just a day? Ridiculous.

Second, this (bear with me here, even if at first you don’t agree. All I ask is for you to hear me out).

People can mourn however they want.

Yes, Paris is about life. But, for many, religion is too. Do not hate how others love. For so many, prayer is the most meaningful thing they can do for Paris. So do whatever you want, write letters, wish on stars, keep Paris in your thoughts, pray, however you want to show compassion for and remember Paris, do it. #prayforparis is a request, not a command, and should not be judged as anything other than that.

Most of all, don’t use a tragedy to make a political statement. It’s disrespectful and inconsiderate. Pray for, wish for, send love to Paris guys, they need it.

Let’s get real

So I was watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer season 2, episode 6 “Halloween,” because Halloween and kick ass feminism always cheer me up. Plus Oz, you gotta love Oz.

Anyway there’s this curse on the costumes and so suddenly there’s real demons and werewolves and G.I. Joes’ running around, including a helpless 17th century lady when suddenly this pirate shows up. He looks at her likes he’s a rabid wolf and immediately chases and tackles her.

Now it’s 90’s TV so it was a brief and not very dramatic struggle before someone came along but rewatching it now with more common sense and knowledge of pirates other than silly old Captain Hook under my belt I got vibes. Bad, rape vibes..

Having watched (loved, obsessed, cried over) the show before, I knew more about this pirate other than his name being Larry and almost beating up Xander earlier in the episode. The thing is Larry’s gay. *Note that I said gay not any other sexuality. He doesn’t want girls.*

So why does he go after her? Simple: rape isn’t about sex, it’s about power.

Larry was already shown as a bully, and more than that, this is true for all cases of rape. It’s not obsession or passion, it’s being forced to do something that they don’t want to do. This is why domestic rape is real and just as disgusting. No means no.

Saying ‘no’ is not being a tease, no matter how drunk or playful or sexy someone is. No means no.

But the thing is, our culture says the opposite. It tells us that there’s always another option, and more than that, it commonly depicts innocence and virtue as the most desirable of all.

This isn’t the middle ages, it (should be) clear by now that women can do whatever they want with their bodies. I have made my own decisions about my body, but that doesn’t mean my choices are right for everyone.

Which is a hard thing to admit, since I am obviously perfect and have unquestionable logic and everyone is wired exactly how I am, so of course my course of action is the correct course of action.

You’re a virgin? Cool. You’re into casual sex? Cool. You do you, and stop shaming people who don’t do what you do. We shouldn’t call each other sluts or prudes or whores or cherries, not only because it makes it okay for others to do so, but because it’s a stupid, selfish-righteous act that condones rape culture.

It’s freaking hard not to judge people, but I’m learning to catch myself and call out others, not matter how scary it is, because people just don’t connect the dots that have been embedded by our culture. #stopslutshaming and you do you.

Hypocrisy or Hope?

Today’s one of those days. The ones where I’m not feeling good, I have a migraine, my stomach hurts and I’m really frustrated at what life has thrown my way. I know I have a lot, and I know I could push through this, but today I don’t want to face the world like everything’s okay, I’m not feeling well, both physically and emotionally.

I keep telling myself I can do this, and on most days I’m the one encouraging my loved ones to push through, to just get what needs to be done. Today is different, like other days,  it’s like I can’t control my movements.

It makes me mad at myself, which only makes the pain worse, and I feel like a hypocrite, and I know that’s because I am. So why don’t I do anything?

Part of me thinks that maybe just thinking it, believing it, will be enough today, and tomorrow I can make it through if I keep telling myself I can.

The other part of me is sick of trying so hard to do things others do with ease everyday, like I could use a break so I’m taking one.

And the last part of me knows these are just excuses and I need to live intentionally, especially when it’s hard to.

Yet majority seems to rule my life.

My point is that life is hard, so hard, even for the non-pessimists.  I could hide behind the anonymity of the internet and just show you the hopeful, happy side of my life, but it’s important to know we all have hardships. That I have struggles too and while thy may sound like nothing to you, they are the hardest thing in the world to me.

It’s hard not to judge other people’s pain, believe me this may be the most hypocritical statement I say, but we only live our own life.

I’m the person who encourages and pushes people in the right direction, but I’m learning that when someone comes to you with frustration, more often than not saying “that sucks” giving them sweets and hug is better than “you can do it.”

I know I can do it, I just need to pt it into action- and no motivational speech is going to do that for me. It’s an active decision I am making, and later I will deal with the consequence. I just need to remember that I am the only one to blame.

Life’s Not Fair, and that’s AWESOME

Don’t worry, I’m not going optimistic on you.

This is realism at, if I do say so myself, it’s finest. Take the classic ‘is the glass half full or half empty’ scenario. When presented with it the optimist would say half full; the pessimist would say half empty, but the realist’s answer is the trickiest. Some may just say the English language is ridiculous for making us choose, others may say both, some may inspect it for their own measurement, but I say neither. The glass is always full, you just can’t see the half of it.

The glass is always full, you just can’t see the half of it. I mean, oxygen is in it too.

I mean, oxygen is a very important something.

Anyway, back to life not being fair, though I have cried it in angst and screamed it silently into my pillow an almost alarming amount of times, it is wonderfully true.

Fair means what we deserve, free of bias. Which makes me so grateful, because I know I, as wonderful as I am, can never deserve all of the wonderful things in my life. I did not build the roof over my head, I have never given as much as I have got ( and nor could I), I did not do a single thing worthy of my best friend and I sure as the air I breathe will never do enough to deserve my wonderful family. Free of bias on how I have worked, and hurt and suffered, my life is a miracle. I wasn’t even supposed to live very long after my birth. My blood was poisoned but by pure grace I survived, and I can never do anything for those people that important.

Please don’t feel in debt, the best things in life are given without expectations.

On the other hand, if you (understandably) feel that you do not deserve all of the -insert bad word of choice- that has happened to you, that’s a toughie. I have had my “fair share” of difficulties in my life, the worst being those out of my control, and it suckssssss. Sometimes there is no parable at the end of the journey, no comprehensible reason for the devastation that has happened. This is where I can only encourage you to list, seriously, write it down, all the good (not sarcastically) things you can think of for today. Everything you like, the things you have, the memories, the people, the things you have learned from. If your hand starts cramping then you aren’t digging deep enough, and I offer my services.

I’m not saying that those make up for your tragedy, but only that the list you wrote, is only what you see. There are so many small things in your life that have touched others in ways you will never know and there are so many wonderful things to come. Bad too, but in the vast, dark, bluish black night of life it is those shining stars that make it beautiful, and worth it. Don’t give up, the world isn’t half as bad as the media makes it out to be.

Life’s not fair, the glass is full and if nothing else, be happy for all the wonders to come and all the wonders past.

Relationships: What’s the point?

Today I’m having one of those days. I feel like crap, life seems like something I’m just getting through until the next chapter comes along and I’m simply feeling ugly. Inside and out. And what’s the first thing I think? I wish someone would make me feel better.

More specifically a partner, for me, a boyfriend.

Which sucks because I’ve sworn off boys for the moment since I have been pondering this question; what is the point of a relationship?

To have fun? There’s loads of ways I can have fun without the risk of heartbreak, thank you very much.

To have someone reassure me that I am worthwhile and amazing? That’s quite selfish and sad, I should be able to feel sexy by myself. Because I’m damn important and interesting.

To have someone I can depend on? What are my friends, chopped liver?

To have someone to grow through? Again, friends : no complication of romance.

To look cool? no. just- no.

For the sake of love? What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks does that even mean?

I’m not bashing on anyone who has a relationship or anyone who wants one. I just think it’s important to think about why. I’m not in any position to even think about marriage yet and I feel that’s what relationships are for.

Maybe I’m just mad at my friends for being all “I don’t need a man, I love myself and I have you for a friend so- OH MY! That guy is so hot! And he likes me! Better take him while I can, what were we talking about?”

ಠ_ಠ

I’m still relatively young I suppose, but one day I would like to date again (and by again I men at all because what I had wasn’t really dating, but maybe another time). What are your thoughts? Is dating some ploy by the media to sell magazines and psychic readings and make women feel like they need to have their products for some idealized relationships that usually end in heartbreak?

Sorry guys, misery loves company.

Let me know your thoughts, until then- back to Daria.

STRESS

I have been blissfully away from reality for four weeks and ever since I have come back there has been an unceasing headache squeezing my brain, reminding it of everything it soon has to do.

To simply put it, I’m freaking out.If you can solve your problem, then what is the need of worrying? If you can’t solve your problem, then what is the use of worrying?

My life has changed, my body has changed (who knew I could tan?!), even some of my opinions have changed! But what hasn’t changed are the responsibilities waiting for me just around the corner.

Yay! I’m an adult with responsibilities and needs and oh, look! Big life-altering choices, excellent!

Big Bang Theory on CBS

I could go on for ages about how anxious I am, but I’ve brought it up because, as much as it sucks, stress is something we all go through. And even worse, it’s kind of important.

Scientists say it stems from our natural flight or fight response, and I can see that. When we get stressed we either want to fight the problem or make it vanish. I think stress is good when we can actively fight the problem, if there’s a problem you can fix then fix it! But the bad thing is when you stress about things out of your control.

Life kinda sucks a lot of the time, and that’s okay! Without stress we would never appreciate peace, and without work we would never have vacations, etc. Yeah it’s really aggravating at the time, but if you hold on to your stress it takes over your life, don’t let it.

I know, I know, easier said than done. Here are some things that help me;

1. Scents. Nothing gets me in a good mood like my favorite smells. I love peppermint so I always have my essential oil and Maybelline’s Peppermint Baby Lips on hand.
2. Writing it down. I love to write things that worry me, or frustrate me or make me feel insecure and then rip them to shreds. I have the power over that moment, and as silly as it may seem, it feels good!
3. A snack. I stress eat, and I’m the first to admit that I need o calm it down. I like to keep apples on hand, they are big and fill you up when you need a break. Pair with a hot drink of choice and you’re set.
4. Daily mantra. Have a quote on a post-it note at your workplace. When I work I tend to think, when  I think my mind tends to wander, when it wanders it tends to find the bad and I tend to stress. (Typing that gave me heart palpitations.) So whether it’s something silly to give you a laugh or something to inspire you, a little reminder is soooooo useful! My current mantra to battle stress is this:

If you can solve your problem, then what is the need of worrying? If you can’t solve your problem, then what is the use of worrying?

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Pink. Why do I hate it?

I have always hated pink. Even as a little girl I wore purples instead, and today my wardrobe consists of maybe 3 pink items. Going trough my closet I tossed out a pink straggler with disgust. Why do I have this? I wondered, and then, a whisper, why wouldn’t you?

Pink. That was the only reason. Which is ridiculous, it’s not like it’s an unflattering color on me, especially with so many shades and tones. Plus it’s not a gross color that reminds me of vomit or anything bad. Or does it? 

Pink is the color associated with femininity, something my Star-Wars-action-figures-for-dolls younger self shuddered at the thought of. Society told me that pink meant dainty (which means weak), sweet (which means silent), and obedient (which means submissive).

To me pink has always meant being put in the confines of being a perfect little lady, even before I knew what patriarchy means. I just knew I didn’t want to be one of those girls.

It makes sense through a child’s eyes I didn’t want to wear pink on Wednesdays because I didn’t want to be one of the girls that says “You can’t sit with us.” I didn’t want to care whether butter was a carb or whether I would be Prom queen or match lipstick to my shoes.

Wait, do I hate pink because of what it is or because of the stereotypes it is surrounded by?

Mom always made fun of he cheerleaders because of their short-skirts and smiles. Because of the petty drama in Bring It On and because of the materialistic mindset of the pink-lover in Legally Blonde. But that’s not who they are. They’re real people who train hard to be strong, memorizing routines and learning to trust a group of strangers while supporting their team and pumping up morale. That sounds like something I would do, if it didn’t mean being a cheerleader.

Hold up, does that mean by hating pink I am reinforcing the sexist stereotypes surrounding it? Yes, yes it does. Pink does not mean shallow, slutty, weak, silent, submissive or even feminine, but society tells us it does!

Wearing pink does not define who you are, but not wearing it may define what society tells you it is.

I think I’ll wear pink to the gym, because who freaking cares what everyone else thinks, I’m there to get stronger.

And I guess to break social norms.

Schrödinger’s cat is everything wrong with the world

Before I rant, if you do not know what the “paradox” of Schrödinger’s cat is then please watch this video.

If you are too lazy to watch this less than two minute video or YouTube has decided not to work in your favor (my condolences,)  I will explain it briefly.

A cat is placed in a bunker with a unstable substance that has a 50-50 chance of killing it, and when one opens the bunker and looks inside it “forces nature’s decision” because before then the cat is in a “superposition” between dead and alive.

You should probably just watch the video, then you will see how freaking ridiculous this is.

Nature has already run it’s course regardless if we have proof or not. It does not need our validation to be something. It’s like saying that someone doesn’t exist just because we have never heard of them!

But isn’t that what our society does? Ignores what doesn’t directly effect them. We see the cute top at Forever 21 but don’t see the laborers who lost their lives in the adjacent, un-safe factory. But to some companies, lives aren’t worth that $4.95.

I am very guilty of this myself. I mean, who doesn’t want new stuff for cheap? But it’s because I’m stuck in my own little universe. The center? Me.

The same as everyone else, each in the center of their own universe.

I bet I know what you’re thinking.

“I’m still not going to pass up a good deal Elle, sorry!” but please don’t be! Just because there are those who have it worse doesn’t mean your financial struggles don’t matter! They do! Your problems are just as relevant as anyone else’s, and vice-versa.

Luckily there is still a way to get wonderfully cheap clothing- thrifting!

Sure, it might not be ideal to sort through the mess of out-dated fashion and expose yourself to a scent you can’t quite recognize as anything other than secondhand, but it’s cheap and doesn’t support the companies that use under-privileged workers (even if they are those brands).

Plus thrifting is kind of fun, finding that one perfect piece in the chaos. It’s like winning the clothes Hunger Games, only the cornucopia is made of coupons and you’re potentially improving people’s chances of living. Go you!

Spend that dough! Lead the thrifting revolution! Be the girl on fire, smoking hot in your thrifted dress! Or you know, as flawless as Cinna in secondhand shoes (we all wish we could rock that metallic eyeliner, regardless of how we identify).

Too much?

Just remember that every life is as valid as your own. Every life is more than those *perfect* new sneakers. Seriously, put them down. Everything comes at a cost, and I’m not talking about your bank account. Be aware of the struggles of those around you.

Veni. Vidi. Amavi.  We came. We saw. We loved.

P.S. Comment your favorite thriftstore, I love the Salvation Army, it’s wayyyyy better than Goodwill.