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Saturday, 24 October 2009

Tuesday, 30 June 2009

  • I strongly believe that the Tyra Banks show is truly inspirational. More people should watch it, record it, and then watch it, and save copies and show other people the social experiments she conducts on her show.

    On today's show Tyra had a group of girls who are attached to things that they believe make them beautiful, their crutches. Without their weaves, makeup, and their tanning, the girls believed they were extremely ugly without them. Tyra had all of the girls agree to remove the things they believed made them beautiful, that they wouldn't leave the house without. Then she had them stand in a shopping mall window infront of the public, while her team recorded the reactions by random people on the street who observed the girls in the window. The girls couldn't hear anything, they could only watch the people observing them.

    The people on the street would point, stare, and gesture towards the girls or about the girls features, and each one of the girls assumed it was because they were being ridiculed. One girl even broke down and ran out of the window frantically crying. She felt so ugly, and thought everyone saw the uglyless she believed she was without concealer and foundation.

    After Tyra's social experiment, the girls were in utter shock and disbelief when they got to listen and watch the actual reactions of the crowd of people on the street. Everything was positive. Some of the girls were still in denial afterwards, but they have likely learned something very positive. That they should be embracing and celebrating their "flaws, " just as everyone else on this planet should. It's those "flaws" that make us all unique.

    Weaves, makeup, tanning, etc. it's all things that people use to enhance their beauty, but as Tyra said, they should never be crutches - must haves. They should never be things you rely on each and every day, every hour, always.

    Everyone is beautiful in their own right -- this I have ALWAYS believed. The sooner one realizes this about themselves, the sooner others will realize it to.

    Outer/visual beauty only lasts for so long, it's inner beauty that radiates and attracts others to you. It's inner beauty that leaves the longest lasting impression, not outer beauty.



    I still have my weak moments where I feel like I need a wig to cover the mess of colour that my hair becomes between dying phases. I started religiously dying my own hair when I first saw grey at about age nineteen or twenty. I had so much stress in my life then, my hair started to show it.  Also, when my naturally auburn hair started turning darker and darker, like a brasy discoloured brown-black, but not really either, I swore I'd keep dying my hair. I get absolutely sick of people telling me to grow it out, and to allow my hair to be it's natural colour, which is no longer the auburn I was born with, but this brasy-fugly brown/black that I can't stand. Also, if I let it grow out the grey will start showing again, and I'm not ready for that. So for now, dying my hair is almost a crutch for me. I don't do it every day, every hour, etc. But I do every few months, if I feel I absolutely must. There's no bleaching or hair colour stripping involved, so it's hopefully not so bad.

    It's taken me years to leave behind the face paint, the eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipgloss, lip liner, foundation, etc. that I believed I needed to wear in order to enhance the outer beauty that I thought nobody else really saw, but I can now leave the house without foundation and concealer occasionally. I know the plain jane behind the makeup is pretty too.

Thursday, 25 June 2009

  • If no one ever put you down, would you feel the need to do so to others?

    Disclaimer; If this offends you, it shouldn't. But if it does offend you, why?
    Perhaps you're offended because you realize that my perception of things is honest. Maybe you've had ugly moments that you're ashamed to own, or maybe up until this moment you were completely oblivious to the ugly things people say and do, and thought nothing of it. Why should it offend you? I'm me, and you're you, and we're all entitled to our own thoughts and feelings. I just feel the need to express mine freely when I honestly believe it could influence the better in someone.


    This comes after viewing a particular entry on a blog called Mancouch that refers to so Hollywood's lesson that by putting "hot girls" with "chubby/ugly guys" in the movies, it means that if you're a guy, it doesn't matter what you look like, so long as you're funny. I've heard this rant and "chubby/ugly girls" getting with "hot guys" for so many years, and I still find the stereotyping of chubby equating to ugly, and the very perception of ugly ridiculous.

    Here's something to consider, Hollywood perhaps realizes, or the writers of these movies at least realize that there is more to a human being then what is visually there, and there are people who do exist, believe it or not, who fall in love with the person a as a whole. Their outside, their inside, and all that's in between.

    I think peoples perception of what is ugly, unattractive, etc. has become pretty harsh over the years, and I believe media doesn't help by feeding us this crap.

    If no one ever put you down, would you feel the need to do so to others?
    Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, please remember that.

    There is no one thing that every human being on this planet will agree is "HOT" or "SEXY" etc. A majority may, but not every single one of us, men and women alike.


    Honestly, the only ugly people I know -- rather the only people that *I* believe are ugly, are people that I have come to know all too well, and have shown their uglyness from the inside, and thus it has taken over the outside. I don't actually believe anyone on this planet is visually an UGLY human being.

    When I hear that someone won't go to a bar or club with "ugly" people. I try to make light of it by saying something like, "doesn't that mean the girls/guys will go for you then?" They might respond with "if you're with too many ugly people, you keep the hot people away." No matter what way it's said, I cringe. I even cringe now, because I wish people didn't think that way.

    There was a time when I too made fun of people, but it was a very, very, very short time. I think it was my way of retaliating against the bullies who did it to me everyday. As if joining them would make me feel better about myself, the way it apparently did for them when they made fun of me. I felt absolutely nauseated over being that way. I try my hardest not to be one of those people who I grew to despise as a child. Those people I loath, and yet I almost want to thank them, because had they not treated me so poorly, maybe I would have become just as ugly as they were and possible still are. I wouldn't have turned out to be the self-educated, try-not-to-be-confrontational, nurturing, empathetic, understanding woman that I am today.


    I make light of certain situations, and after certain remarks because I get so uncomfortable, that I just don't know what else to do. I don't want to get into a debate with anyone, I don't want to come off as if I am this higher educated, extremely mature person who sits on this million foot horse, but fricking hell, sometimes it's so hard to bite my tongue. I just don't misunderstand them and it frustrates me. I care and adore many aspects of people who are like this, but I do not ever want to be like them, while hoping they'll change their immature perception of things.


    I do not believe externally (visually), that anyone is "ugly". I do however, believe that there are people who have ugly inner sides to them. I don't care how visually attractive some of these people may be, many of them are ugly in my mind.

    Furthermore, I do not believe ugly is a visual perception, I believe the only true ugly in this world exists from mental perception.

Wednesday, 03 June 2009

  • I'll likely never become published, but if I can finish, I'll have some peace of mind.

    This is one of the most beautiful songs that I have heard in a very long time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzAKR8zvkFM

    English lyrics: http://www.senshigakuen.com/translations/lyrics/gackt/kimi_ni_aitakute.htm

    Beautiful and so very sad, the Promotion video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=St1SrGLqTMU

    When it comes to Gakuto, I am always inspired when I hear his songs. There's been so many times when I composed writings while his music played in the background. This includes the short story (nine full pages back to front, single spaced) I had to submit for Grade 11 English, the personal essay “Theme Song of My Life” for Grade 12 English, the essay about Memoirs of a Geisha that I did later that year, and the short story I almost submitted for a grant/bursary. I was not able to condense my writing to fit their parameters of a mere 1000 words. I am still working on that piece, and I might submit it the next time the registry for that grand/bursary opens again.

    Feeling this inspired, I feel compelled to return to my vampire writings and fill in the gaps that I have been otherwise uninspired to finish. If I can ever complete them, I believe that will earn me some peace of mind.


    I have been writing creatively for about sixteen years. I still remember the first time I sat in front of the type writer and began composing my pen scratch of hand written words to alphabet shaped ink onto paper. Often people are amazed when they see how feverishly I can type, but if you had your hands on some sort of keypad (typewriter until Grade 10, computer keyboard afterwards) religiously, then you would likely develop a quick pace and keen accuracy also. My hand writing/printing suffered unimaginably because of it, but boy can I type!!! Clocked in about 78+ words per minute when viewing/typing from a script, so just imagine what I can do free hand! ^_^

    It's very unlikely that I'll ever see my work published. Certainly not my vampire writings that were born from the youthful hands of a ten year old, accompanied by what seemed like the mind of a twenty-something year old - I was told. Back then it felt like second nature, as natural as breathing. Actually, I used to sit with the Dictionary for hours by myself, learning new words. Once I understood the usage of those words, I'd refer to my pocket Thesaurus intentionally seeking new words to express myself in a more creative way, instead of using the obvious, over used ones. I rarely ever used red, green, or blue, or descriptions like fast, and my personal favourite (note the sarcasm) "darkly" that was so, so very over used everywhere, and still is.

    My characters were solely my own until my late teens. I became a strong part of the growing online community that was free form role-playing, and because of my constant presence online, in time my characters became very well known. The online community I frequented went through heavy maintenance, they tried to establish rules that would forbid any of the role-players to publish work online and offline that included specific names, details, descriptions, etc. of those who were part of the community, and the community itself. Those rules fell on deaf ears. One of the players that I thought I knew considerably well, claimed they were having their work published. I was told my characters would be included in their publication. Following wide spread rumours, the community shut down.

    I have no idea if they published anything including my characters. As flattering as it was to hear that someone wanted to immortalize your characters because they believed you might never, because yours had become a huge part of their own characters development, that they felt some strange entitlement to include yours in their publication, I was angered beyond anything. Royally pissed off, how dare they! I have no idea if it was wishful thinking. I hope to God it was.

    The incident frightened and angered the heck out of me. Until that year, my writings were my own, my characters were original. While they were vampires, they had no resemblance to Bram Stoker's, Anne Rice's, or any other author that I favoured in my teenage years.

    Strangely my writings, characters, and ideas that I swear I created all on my own long before I read Dracula, knew of Anne Rice, or heard anything about White Wolf Gaming, were barely unparallel to White Wolf’s Vampire clans and disciplines. To this day I cannot figure out how, but the characteristics of my vampires, specifically the insane one, matched perfectly to what White Wolf calls a vampire of the Malkavian clan. Also my absolutely depressing, and heart wrenching ongoing story about my beloved vampires becoming living statues in a gallery belonging to the oldest vampire alive, all of that became similar too, when I did a little more research into the disciplines and rituals that each vampire from the White Wolf gaming stories could learn. The difference was mine were stuck in a room, forever, belonging to the eldest vampire. Not much difference there eh? I’m still in disbelief over it. I had not discovered White Wolf’s Vampire series until well into my late teens, and I had all of this planned out in my head and scribbled down on paper long before I turned seventeen.

    I overcame my disbelief and resumed my love for online role-playing by joining the official website. I became a regular for about a year or so by giving up most of my individuality as a writer and adapting my 30+ characters (plant names in the Latin sense) to what seemed then, unending parallels with White Wolf’s Vampire platform. I grew to hope that I would become a writer for them, but alas that dream was never sought after and likely will never be. They concluded the Vampire series long ago.

Friday, 29 May 2009

  • Why does sleeping early, mean waking early?

    I was sitting here thinking a lot the other night.

    During that time I texted a friend with a very thorough, though kinda shortened spew of my heart and soul and absolute depression at its brink. Realizing that at this time, about a few years ago, I had so many responsibilities, priorities, goals in life, and I was financially stable.

    I was a full time student.
    I was a full time employee.
    I could afford to pay my own bills.
    I could afford to care for my pets, whatever they needed.
    I bought my own cell phone.
    I bought my own freezer.
    I bought my own groceries.
    I bought my own television.
    I bought my own cameras.
    I bought my own clothes.
    I bought my own wall unit.
    I bought my own towels.
    I bought my own magazines.
    I paid for my own cabs, taxis, and buses.
    I paid for my own medical needs.
    I used to loan money to people.
    I had a very steady savings account, about $100-ish from each pay.
    I had so much homework.
    I had practically no social life.
    I was single, and completely and utterly independent.

    Strangely, I was content. For the most part I can see why, but if it wasn't for the social life I had during school and work hours, I would have gone completely nuts. Outside of those times, I was just too exhausted from work and so busy with school projects to be bothered to leave the house. With work, if you didn't give at least a month's notice, you couldn't book any time off. I was the employee who was stupid enough to give my cell number, and therefore I was always reachable whenever they needed someone to fill a shift. I was also unwillingly kept at work beyond my regular hours when someone called in during my shift, which happened numerous times. But once again, I was strangely content with life. Perhaps because I was too busy to reflect on what I was missing out on? Friends, family, pets.

    Why did I leave my full time job? Besides the bogus scheduling issues, and the lack of any time off, I was fully committed to school the second course around, and desperately wanted my diploma so I could stand for something. So I was more then a loser who dropped out when school, life, and personal issues became too rough.

    After dropping out of school, I spent somewhere between five and six years developing strong agoraphobia, intense, crippling anxiety and depression. It took me a matter of weeks or months to find myself again and finally apply for a job. That was my first real job aside from babysitting. That's when my call centre path in life began. I had more than just cause to leave that place, it was environmentally unsound, and it was clear no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many 100% monitoring sheets I produced, there was no room for advancement.

    As far as my full time job I left behind, that was to pursue my second course towards getting my diploma, and having brought my hours back to part time, they made clear to me I couldn't always have the time off that I needed to finish projects for school. I tried so hard to finish my school work at work on my breaks, which meant ate very little. It got to the point where I was falling asleep at work, falling asleep at school. And it wasn't just falling asleep, I would actually crash. I thought I had become diabetic with my erratic, unhealthy off and on again eating habits, and turns out I was just completely and utterly exhausted.

    Used to have school from 8am-330pm, and then work from about 4pm to 9pm. Sometimes work started early, because school let us out early. I walked everyday from work to school, a very good walking distance. Walked in the icy cold, and the sweltering heat. I missed very few days, maybe two from school, and couldn't miss work unless I convinced them I was too sick. Around that time I ended up with bronchitis, though I didn't know it until much later. Supervisor on shift that day wouldn't let me leave, we were already short staffed. So there I was, barely breathing, trying to answer all the damn inbound calls that kept coming in. Couldn't go on break, back then we didn't have scheduled breaks. It was just whenever there was "dead air" was a good time to go. Sometimes the breaks were cut short, because it got busy again.

    I was so exhausted.
    I pushed 42+ hours a week of work on top of full time school, Monday through Thursday 8am-330pm for about four months. The entire span of my first course. It wasn't until my first month into my second course that I realized I couldn't go through full time work and full time school again, and survive. Eventually work made clear to me that working so few hours would result in low productivity, and I would become very poor at my job. A job I had held onto for about a year and eleven months. Had I not gone part time, I felt, and heard they would have asked me to become a team lead. I was after all, the one who trained many of their reps on a particular project, that I was only responsible for at the time. I left just before my next review. Once again, pushing 100% on nearly every call, even when I was at school full time and working part time, but that didn't matter to them.

    I left my full time job because I had no choice, they made that clear, in such a oh-so-unsubtle way. If I didn't, I would not have gotten my diploma. If I had left before, during that first course, I may have passed with a much higher mark. And what was it all for? By the time I had my high school diploma, all the employers in the area were requiring college and university graduates.

    Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it.
    There's so many jobs not available to me now, because they are geared to those between the ages of 15-40 who have no high school diploma. Jobs that I could have applied for, or maybe not have had to consider applying for, had I not left my full time job in order to get my high school diploma.

    The very idea of committing myself to 35+ hours ever again, scares the heck out of me. I know how weak I became before, and I just don't think I am physically or mentally able to retain a full time job that expects that many hours a week, in part with eight through ten hour shifts a day, Monday-Friday, and weekends.

    The one day in the middle of the week that I had off while working full time, I spent finishing school work, eating, laundry, sleeping, and spending time with my family between all of that. I rarely ever left the house for friends or family outings.

    I wonder at times if I was better off that way. At least then I felt like I was working for a company that was dedicated to mutual growth and success, where one day I could have become a supervisor. It was like I had such purpose and a future laid out for me, but now, I just don't know what to do with myself. I apply for jobs, but there isn't really jobs to apply for in this city. I won't move, I love my family, and as long as my mother is living, I plan to stay close by her.

    I don't bother trying as hard as I could to retain new friendships, because if I can be ditched from a friendship that was strong enough to last over fifteen years, why should I put my faith in any recent friendships that I've made? It's not worth the emotional stress and regret. I'm not putting myself through that bullshit again. There's this strong part of me since I was about nine, who believes she's got little time left to do all the things she's wanted to. I'm not thirty, but I feel like I'm turning forty, as if that's it for me.

autumnmarie

  • Visit autumnmarie's Xanga Site
    • Name: Marie
    • Country: Canada
    • State: Ontario
    • Gender: Female
    • Member Since: 9/14/2002

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