REAL people...

Last night, I was scrolling through my facebook news feed, as one does, and I saw a photo someone had 'shared'. It was a photo of a woman's belly covered in pregnancy stretch marks, and it bore a caption that (summarised) called for people to post photos of themselves, no matter what they looked like, to fight the Photoshop culture of media.

It also included statements like:
"Real women have stretch marks."
"Real women have curves."
"Real people..."

Don't get me wrong, here. While I am all for resisting the prevalence of Photoshop in advertisements and the like, I cannot help but be equally resistant to campaigns saying that REAL people are a certain way.

"Real women have stretch marks." So, because I've never had a child and therefore have no pregnancy stretch marks, I'm not a real woman? I beg to differ. I have breasts and a vagina just like every other female on the planet. Just because I haven't had children yet doesn't make me less than someone who has. And what about those few women who get to have children without the stretch marks? Does that make them not real, somehow? No, they're real just as much as I am.

"Real women have curves." Don't hate me, but I'm 5'9"ish, and 120ish lbs. I have always been a stick, a bean-pole, a twig, tiny, skinny, thin, slender - there's no end to the words that get applied to my body type. I have a small chest and nearly no hips. I am under no misapprehensions about what shape and size I am. Yes, I'm very close to the magazine ideal. But. Phrases like "real women have curves" make me feel angry - that the idea that having fewer curves makes me less of a woman. I'm not this way on purpose, I am just the size I am and have always been. Am I inadequate simply because I'm thin?

"Real people..." I realise all these "Real People" campaigns that get started are an effort to help people's self-esteem by accepting and de-marginalising the larger/stretch-marked/what-have-you people, but the problem is, this re-marginalises those who are thinner/scar-less/what-have-you. I'm not less than human simply because of what I look like, but neither are you.

So, I'd like to argue, with all due respect and consideration, that REAL people are kind, REAL people are accepting, and REAL people are all different sizes and appearances. REAL people don't marginalise anyone, REAL people don't judge books based solely on their covers, and REAL people don't allow others to judge or bully anyone.

Real people love.

Toodles :)

Blogging on purpose...

Sometimes I feel like I talk too much or too loudly, and sometimes I feel like I can’t open my mouth.

Today is one of the days where my mouth won’t open, and I have to work doubly hard to even make my fingers move on the keyboard. I feel like I have nothing to say that could possibly be worthwhile, and why would anyone listen to me anyways?

So today I’m blogging on purpose. Maybe it’ll help. It’s better than not saying anything at all, by far. Because there are a lot of days where I don’t say anything. I sit in my house and I don’t interact with people. Which, admittedly, I find quite pleasant on occasion; I even talk to myself, because, of course, one ought always to speak to the person present with the most intelligence, and usually, that happens to be me.

But not interacting can be isolating. I frequently have to explain to people (extroverts, mostly) that there is a difference between being alone, and being lonely. I like being alone; I like being left alone. It’s a pleasant break to not have to deal with people sometimes. But sometimes I get lonely. There’s a difference. I don’t know how best to describe that difference, I just know it’s there. And when I’m legitimately lonely, my head noise breaks in and makes me want to talk to people even less, while I’m still craving human interaction.

Goddamnit, head noise. Leave me alone.

Toodles, all.

Bombardments

It's been a while.

I could make excuses. I could say how busy I've been. I could, and I could, and I could...

But I think mostly it's because I'm unsure about how best to come back. Is it awkward, after eight months, to just jump back in and say, "Hey guys, it's me again, let me bombard you with my life and thoughts and stuff and things, same as I did ... a whole year ago!"?

Let's pretend, for the sake of argument, that people leaving and coming back without warning is normal and not awkward in the slightest.
So therefore, if that's the case, you may, if you wish, sit back with a nice cup of Tea Earl Grey Hot, and prepare yourself for a nice, calming, chilled-out:

"HEY GUYS, IT'S ME AGAIN, LET ME BOMBARD YOU WITH MY LIFE AND THOUGHTS AND STUFF AND THINGS, SAME AS I DID A WHOLE YEAR AGO."

Following that theme, in recent news (so that I don't alarm you unduly with references to things that happened that you didn't previously know about):

• I sang backing vocals with a symphonic metal band for two live shows (one in December, one in April) and it was fantastic: http://www.leahthemusic.com/
• I started playing Pathfinder, the D&D-like role-playing game. I play in two campaigns: one, as a skill-monkey half-elf rogue/ranger who speaks in a Scottish accent - and the other, as a dumb-as-a-post half-orc barbarian named Thump whose two obsessions are things that are Shiny, and things that can be thumped, such as goblins.
• (I'm surprised it took me this long to discover role-playing games - SO MUCH FUN.)
• I just finished my second year at university studying Computer Information Systems, and I've just started my second term as President of the Computer Information Systems Student Association. I've also just started my first Co-op work term: I get school credit for it, and work experience in my field, AND I get paid for it, all of which make me reasonably happy.
• I got a new tattoo in April, bringing my total tattoos up to four, if you count the teensy stick-and-poke I did on my own hip four years ago. The new one is on the inside of my bicep, is in Latin, and says: "Sed et si monti huic dixeritis: Tolle et jacta te in mare, fiet." Translated: "But if you say to this mountain: Get up and cast yourself into the sea, it will be done." Found in Matthew 21:21, for the curious.
• I'm still at my wonderful little basement suite, and I couldn't be happier with where I'm living. Even the occasional noise of the tenants upstairs doesn't bother me.
• I've completely caught up on Doctor Who, at last, and I've been watching the current episodes as they come out, which has been great fun. I do love Clara with the Doctor. They have such great chemistry.
• Speaking of TV shows, I've been watching NCIS and Castle as per usual, but on my dad's recommendation I've just started a new one, it's called Continuum. A cop from 2077 accidentally gets dumped into Vancouver in 2012 along with a terrorist group called Liber8. It's pretty good so far, but I'm only about halfway through the first season still.

 So there; I have accomplished my bombardments and my return. It wasn't too painful, was it?

But don't worry, you'll be hearing from me again, hopefully in reasonably short order.

Toodles!

WELL

I MOVED

i'm all alone in a happy little basement suite with laminate flooring and pot-lights and a kitchen to myself.
I'M SO HAPPY.

i don't have internet yet, so i'm currently at my parents' house again, using their internet - and when i start classes (THIS WEEK) i can use the internet at the university. so that's alright.

on friday morning i went grocery shopping. i bought a crap ton of meat - a big tub of ground beef, two GIANT steaks (i forget what the cut was, but these things were YUGE), and sixteen chicken thighs - most of it thirty percent off, due to age, i'm assuming. my secret trick: sandwich-size ziploc bags. i cut all the meat into one-person portions, and FROZE ALL THE THINGS.

freezer full of meat for cheap? win.

also, whistling teakettle, and bamboo dishrack, and firefly posters, and slowly emptying boxes, and shelves full of books. these things make me happy.

the trouble with.... a tribble?

so yesterday i went to the PNE for the first time in my life. actually, i did a bunch of firsts yesterday.

the PNE, taken on the whole, was a fun and entertaining novelty experience, but i would have no desire to go multiple times in one year, it would get overwhelming and such.

i also went on a rollercoaster for the first time ever; i went on the wooden one and spent most of it clinging desperately to the bar because i would totally have flown out of my seat otherwise, what with me being so light.

and a ferris wheel, which went surprisingly faster than it looks like it does from the ground, that was fun.

among other entertaining rides. i didn't do any SUPER crazy ones, simply because i really am not an adrenaline junkie, and i just can't handle those ones yet. like the twin flip and the hellevator and similar terrifying things.

but the best part, and the part that made the entry fee totally worth it: the star trek exhibition. where i was not allowed to take photos. :(
they had all kinds of outfits on mannequins in glass cases - they had spock's uniform, and the white robe he wears in "a voyage home", they had one of guinan's outfits, and picard's uniform, and data's, they had both uhura's uniforms, TOS and the new movie, they had neelix's outfit, they had romulan and reman uniforms, they had khan's torn-up outfit, and they had seven of nine's uniform as well. i kind of fangirled all over the place.
never mind the models of alien's heads, and data's head too, and phasers of all kinds, and the PADDs, and the tricorders, and they had a freaking bat'leth too. there were ship models, and a replica of picard's rooms with a section of hallway right in front.
and they also had a couple of photo ops - one on the bridge of the enterprise, TNG era, one on a transporter array, and there was one with a greenscreen but i don't know what they put behind it.
i bought a photo of me on the bridge. i know, i know. but i had to.
i also bought a pin with data's face on it, and a tribble. yes, i HAD TO. what a foolish question.

so yeah. yesterday: success.

what? twice in one week?

so, um, i'm back?
instead of ... erm ... packing ... which i should be doing on account of i want to move on thursday next ...

the other thing i've been doing instead of packing, is pinning useful things on my pinterest board. i totally ripped off disney's family channel, title-wise, and created a board i called Suite Life, to which i'm pinning things that i plan to use once i move into my new suite. i hate The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, by the way - it's inane and not funny at all - but the pun is amusing, so i don't care that i had to steal it from such a rubbishy sitcom.

also, had to hunt down my t4 from tim hortons in chilliwack - they hadn't sent it to me, even though i gave them my address 3 times; my mom and i had to drive down to chilliwack to pick it up, this week! grrr. i needed it to do my tax return (which i should have done in spring, but for the aforementioned lack of t4), which i needed for my student loan for this semester. here's hoping i don't have to wait too long for it, and that it comes in before fees are due at school ...

anyways. thought i'd write something quickly just to get myself back in the habit; now i'm going to go do some more boxing-up things. and then i work at 2pm. no rest for the wicked....

after months of silence...

i know, it's been a while since i ... put finger to keyboard? ... well, blogged, anyway.

some of those months of silence are attributable to school, both university-type and high-school-type, and some are attributable to finding a job (during which i was also doing the high-school-type school). but most of the time, i think, it was the fault of my own laziness that i didn't write anything - but laziness doesn't seem the right word either. sometimes i would think of something i could blog about, but then it seemed awkward coming back as if no empty space had happened in between. and sometimes i would actually sit down to write, and then nothing would come out. but the worst, what happened to me most often, is when i had so much to say that i just couldn't, because as soon as i would start writing or typing or WHATEVER, that it would all come spilling out like one of those cartoon closets, where everything is jampacked up to the ceiling - you just touch one thing and ALL the things come down on you... kind of like that paragraph of brain vomit that totally just happened.

so after all that brainmush, here i am.

big changes: i found a basement suite. all my own. no roommates. so my bedroom at my parents' house is now in a state of boxy upheaval as i try to pack between the hours that i work.
oh yes, and i have a job. timmy ho's again. yeah.
my hair is short, and pink, and later i'll post a picture, maybe. i suspect most of my more regular readership (if there is any of those out there) actually knows me and is friends with me on facebook, but for the ones that aren't, yes, that's what i did to my hair.
changed my diet - and am eating paleo now. the funny looks i get when i say i'm not eating any grains or beans or sugar, are just fantastic, and they make it totally worth it. it can be hard, and hey, i have my cheat days same as anyone else does, but i love paleo. i mean, bacon every day if i want it. how can that be bad?
got a new tattoo, too - but again, old news to the people who are on facebook.

accomplishments: finished math 12 - had to do four units in a week and a half, while i was working, so i was cramming like crazy. not sure i remember most of it, but i got 84.27% at the end of the whole thing -  EXCEPT, when i asked them to fax my mark to the university (so i could use math 12 as a prerequisite for a class), the record the university now has is 86%. so i got a narrow A out of it, which i really shouldn't have, nor do i know how it happened. but i'm not complaining!

i'm also determined that when september arrives and i have time (time? what? work + school + homework + CISSA? time?) and i can get to the gym, i'm starting the workouts outlined in The New Rules of Lifting For Women. weightlifting wins. waaaaay more fun than running.

i'm definitely excited about having my own place again - but i'm also a bit nervous, because it'll actually be my own. no roommate. so i need to get some basics. like cutlery and plates and glasses for the kitchen. at my shared apartment, we used all her dishes for eating off of. all the cooking stuff was mine, but the eating stuff was all hers.
i have to get that and other things, like a broom, and laundry soap, and dish soap, and toilet paper, and a shelving/hanging unit (cos my bedroom doesn't have a closet)... all that and i still don't have my student loan for the next semester...

and that's all i got for now. let's see if i can keep up on this for a while.

cravings

i crave quiet
not sullen silence
not the sound of air that rings with anger
and the remembrance of the words last hurled
i crave peace
not whispered jabs
not frozen fury, felt as a chill in the air
or murderous glances directed at anyone nearby

to have quiet and peace
to have calm and rest
sanctuary from strife

not here, not today;
hold out one more moment
be still as a gull on a stone in the sea
watch the waves and feel the breeze
knowing at any moment, to take wing and rise

to have quiet and peace
calm and rest
sanctuary in the storm

cranky day.

today is cranky day.
today, i rebel and i refuse.
today, i don't want to do things the way i know i ought to.

fuck doing something new. fuck taking action. i have a friend who insists that action is greater than inaction. but i'll tell you right now that taking action SUCKS. inaction is easier. inaction means you don't get hurt as quickly.
taking action, well - it hurts sometimes. and you feel like an ass sometimes. and then you wanna sit in a corner with your stash of guilty-pleasure snacks and/or a nice bottle of something and not move til everyone around you has forgotten that you even existed in the first place, never mind forgetting what you did.
and there's no one you can apologise to, because really you're the only one that hurts and you did it to yourself anyhow, and then when you're curled up in the corner you say things to to yourself like, well, i guess i'm just a fucking idiot, why the fuck did i do that, that was so dumb, stupid, stupid, stupid, now don't ever do anything that retarded ever again, no, actually, NEVER do anything again EVER.
and then you feel like crap.
and the next time you throw inaction out the window, and oh, look! it backfired on you AGAIN! well, now you're just all kinds of idiot for not listening to yourself when you said not to do anything again ever. serves you right, dumb-butt, why the hell didn't you listen to your own advice, why the fuck would you do a thing like that when you knew what happened last time.
inaction is so much easier. inaction means you don't impale yourself on a stupid decision and end up bleeding all over the place.
doing something. bah.

maybe tomorrow i'll be back to my normal masochistic impale-myself-on-my-own-decisions self.
today, i don't wanna.

umbrellas

i see thunderclouds scudding by
past the lonely hills, grey and muffled
disappearing over the horizon
driven before the gale like cattle

streaks of ice-cold rain chill the air
soaking into the crevasses of the earth
winter-bare branches reach sky-ward
empty nests perched on the highest limbs

the cold cleaves through skin and muscle
i have no respite from the implacable wind
here yet wander i, restless and uncaring
past silent trees and flood-sated streams.

i see the thunderclouds scudding by
past my lonely head, horizon to horizon
my hair grows wet with rain.
umbrellas are for wimps.

shards on the tile, shards of my mind

is the glass half empty, or is it half full? because i find my glass has shattered on the tile, and i can see myself reflected in every tiny piece. here lies my eye, here my lip. here an ear and there an arm. no piece reflecting all, but each taking some small portion and throwing it back disconnected from the whole. do i mend it? or do i discard it? is it even worth thinking about, or should i just walk away and leave the shards lying where they fell, reflecting pieces of what they see? if i step forward or if i step back, my blood smears the tiles as the broken glass mercilessly jabs my feet; but if i stand unmoving, my reflection mocks me without remorse, all the tiny pieces jumbled together into a crude representation, not truly myself.

outside i see the trees. all the leaves are gone, vanished into some cruel fancy of the wind, or clustered on the ground in pathetic heaps. the sky hints of snow. the air is icy, and i shiver at the thought of going out.

if i had my way, i would isolate myself from everything and everyone, to go hide in some dark secluded hole, where no-one can find me. i would have no reminders of things left undone, of words left unsaid, of changes left unmade. i would see no shadows of things i could have done, should have done, ought to have done differently. and for once the snide and ruthless audience that resides in my head, and lives to tell me what i did wrong, will have silence instead of critiques. oh, to hear a void in my mind, rather than the opera-house full of mockery and ridicule, that would be glorious indeed.

my eyes sting with half-conceived tears, and a dull ache has settled in my heart. my emotions have tied themselves in a knot in the middle of my chest and will not come undone, no matter how or which way i tug, and the end will not show itself.

so is the glass half empty? or is it half full? or perhaps it is shattered.

A riddle.

One if the riddles of my existence is the fact that I judge other people based on my own judgments of myself.

Sometimes when I'm with a friend, and I'm having fun, I would be perfectly happy to hang out with them all day. But when I think about how they are feeling, I assume that they are totally sick of being around me, that they want me to leave them alone, and that I am being a total nuisance.

I then spiral into a black and self-hating hole, where I assume that since my friend, as I assumed, doesn't want me around, then I am a horrible person, and therefore the world hates me and therefore I should also hate me, and if the world hates me, then my friend does too, and therefore I am an even worse person for inflicting myself on them, so then I hate myself even more.

And this happens even when I know the person really well.

I try not to let myself go into that sad little spiral, but sometimes, no matter how careful I am, I still slip up and fall in.

It's not fun.

what i have learned.

you failed
the cry rang out across the hills
the world screamed out the words
you failed
and still my heart pounds louder than a drum
my ears have strained to hear
you failed
reverberates again
another shout, just those two words
you failed
no promise of later gain
no oath or pledge that i will pass the test
you failed

and a small quiet whisper in the back of my mind
insists to me
you failed, well done
you gave it your all
i asked no more,
you heeded the call
you failed
and i'm proud

now do it again.

it's a sea

oceans of words
ebb and flow with the tide
of emotions in my soul

many words are not enough
and a single word too much
to articulate my meaning

i want to say more
i'm afraid to say more
waves of words bowl me over

and you are the cliff
against which my oceans crash
but i don't want to overwhelm you

please don't crumble or give way
just because of me
even if i want you to

because the oceans are fierce
rioting waves and flat calms
unceasing change

oceans of words
ebbing and flowing
look out before you jump in

SQUEEEEEE!!

... as you can see, i am all full of fangirl squeals and geeking-out grins.

because *I* got to take some photos of the *EUREKA* series finale which they are filming in my town today - and not only photos OF, but photos WITH.

oh happy day :)

ten cent lies

when all is said and done
which is more important,
what is said?
or what is done?

all the words in the world
can't cover up an action

and words are so cheap
what price can you put on a yes
or a no?
a lie is easy
and practically worthless
ten cents each on a street corner

even honesty can be a lie
when it is belied
by action

and when you say what you mean
is that really who you are?
or is it what you do
that tells the world
what kind of person you are inside?

ten cents for a lie -
how much do you want for the truth?

oh yes. i can cook.

garlic paste

fresh basil paste

olive oil

dried oregano

dried basil

dried dill

salt

pepper

lemon juice

tilapia.












frozen veggie mix.


















yellow bell pepper

mushrooms

avocado

spring mix.





















orange juice concentrate

butter

cinnamon

nutmeg

frozen blueberries

ice cream

hand-whipped cream.

these are the results.

i tasted the fruits of my labour - and they were good.

i lied.

... i mean, i didn't REALLY lie, just changed my statement.

um.

what i mean is, i switched one of my courses - now i only have to go back and forth to abbotsford once a week:

Mon - Web Publishing - 8.30-11.20 - Abbotsford
Tues - System Hardware Concepts - 10.45-2.25 - Abbotsford
Wed - Principles of Computing - 10.00-12.50 - Chilliwack; Intro to Programming - 2.30-6.10 - Chilliwack

same courses, different schedule - and my mom says i can sleep over on monday nights at their house.
yay!

i was very lucky, actually - there was one seat left in the tuesday class. i SO ninja'd my way in there. hah.

okay. back to bed for me. night all!

exciting times.

so. i have registered for classes.
oi.
i'm half really excited and half freaking out. kind of like when i got my tattoo, but less painful and more expensive.

my schedule is gonna look like so:

Mon - Web Publishing - 8.30-11.20 - Abbotsford
Wed - Principles of Computing - 10.00-12.50 - Chilliwack; Intro to Programming - 2.30-6.10 - Chilliwack
Thurs - System Hardware Concepts - 1.00-4.40 - Abbotsford

now i have to buy my textbooks, and make sure my student loans will go through, and apply for scholarships and bursaries, and stuff.

oh boy.

never fear! i've returned!

so i got asked recently why i haven't blogged in a while. "had i run out of things to say?"

no, but i have a great excuse!

my lappy, my lovely christmas lappy that my dad put together for me, decided, suddenly, that life was not worth living any more, and shuffled off its mortal coil, ran down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible! it became an ex-laptop! ... er. i mean ... the motherboard died.

so i purchased this:

it's a thinkpad t61p, and it's fantastic. yes, used. can't afford new. but it works great anyways.

unfortunately, ubuntu won't recognise the built-in webcam, nor does it currently recognise the ever so cool fingerprint reader - though i think there may be some software for it; i'm looking into that as we speak. if it doesn't work, well, it's really kind of non-essential, but it would be neat if it did work.

ah well. the small things we sacrifice for a slice of natty narwhal awesome.

in other news, i'm starting school for reals in september - i'm taking the CIS (computer information systems) diploma. heh. computers.

anyhow. that's all i got for now - but i'll be back! and in larger numbers! ... never mind.

edit: my bad, thinkpads don't have built in webcams. whoops.