http://www.nytimes.com/reuters/2009/04/30/world/international-uk-azerbaijan-shooting.html?_r=1&emc=eta1
I remember the Virginia Tech shooting was a little over two years ago.
It's incredible to me how the world is so big, but there are some things that can happen anywhere.
My thoughts are with those of you in the country now, I hope you, your families, and your loved ones are safe and well.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
it is hot hot hot
Oh man. It's like, 90 degrees in New York.
And when it gets hot in New York, certain things begin to happen:
people smile more.
people wear bright colors.
people wear big ol' bug eye sunglasses.
you see a TON of sunburns (because everyone gets crazy excited and flocks to the parks, forgetting what happens when you do this)
I did all of the above - except I wore suntan lotion. So there.
Although I will add, everyone thought I had a bad sunburn. I have a birthmark on my right arm, it's huge, goes all over my shoulder, onto my front chest and then onto my back, and when I tan, it gets really red. I think it's cool, and frankly I don't notice it at all and neither do my close friends. But often people will ask me if I got too much sun. (Actually one horrific family story, we were at Disney, and I was little, and some woman went up to my mother and scolded her for not using sunscreen on me).
I probably notice it more now that I'm in Manhattan, when everyday I encounter new people, who haven't seen me, who don't know what it is. I catch some stares. It's cool. I like it when I find someone else who has a birthmark, I always give them a little smile. They probably think I'm hitting on them. Oh well.
We went on a NYC Water Taxi tour of lower manhattan...SOOO touristy, and our tour guide was crazy. He was a salesman, but I couldn't quite figure out what he was selling. He kept telling us he was so excited to have his life back because his kids were all grown up.
But I have to say, because it was ridiculously hot, it was cooler on the water and the wind was blowing and it was wonderful. I can't believe I'm leaving this city...because once I graduate (no, not sad to leave NYU...) I don't know when I'll be back here for anymore than a quick visit. *sigh*
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
*disclaimer*
also, a lovely lady who is going to be successful in life without sacrificing her love of fashion, here's a blog to read...
http://styleisthenewblack.wordpress.com/
oh, and if i said anything ridiculous in the previous post, apologies. I've been really emotional lately...
http://styleisthenewblack.wordpress.com/
oh, and if i said anything ridiculous in the previous post, apologies. I've been really emotional lately...
i am woman, hear me roar.
What Is a Woman?
To state the question is, to me, to suggest, at once, a preliminary answer. The fact that I ask it is in itself significant. A man would never set out to write a book on the peculiar situation of the human male. But if I wish to define myself, I must first of all say: ‘I am a woman’; on this truth must be based all further discussion. A man never begins by presenting himself as an individual of a certain sex; it goes without saying that he is a man. The terms masculine and feminine are used symmetrically only as a matter of form, as on legal papers. In actuality the relation of the two sexes is not quite like that of two electrical poles, for man represents both the positive and the neutral, as is indicated by the common use of man to designate human beings in general; whereas woman represents only the negative, defined by limiting criteria, without reciprocity. In the midst of an abstract discussion it is vexing to hear a man say: ‘You think thus and so because you are a woman’; but I know that my only defence is to reply: ‘I think thus and so because it is true,’ thereby removing my subjective self from the argument. It would be out of the question to reply: ‘And you think the contrary because you are a man’, for it is understood that the fact of being a man is no peculiarity. A man is in the right in being a man; it is the woman who is in the wrong. It amounts to this: just as for the ancients there was an absolute vertical with reference to which the oblique was defined, so there is an absolute human type, the masculine. Woman has ovaries, a uterus: these peculiarities imprison her in her subjectivity, circumscribe her within the limits of her own nature. It is often said that she thinks with her glands. Man superbly ignores the fact that his anatomy also includes glands, such as the testicles, and that they secrete hormones. He thinks of his body as a direct and normal connection with the world, which he believes he apprehends objectively, whereas he regards the body of woman as a hindrance, a prison, weighed down by everything peculiar to it. ‘The female is a female by virtue of a certain lack of qualities,’ said Aristotle; ‘we should regard the female nature as afflicted with a natural defectiveness.’ And St Thomas for his part pronounced woman to be an ‘imperfect man’, an ‘incidental’ being. This is symbolised in Genesis where Eve is depicted as made from what Bossuet called ‘a supernumerary bone’ of Adam.
- Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex, Woman as Other, 1949
I'm in this class right now, Classical Women Writers, and we read and discuss classical drama written by women.
Yeah, I couldn't think of any classical women playwrights either, but there are a ton.
I'm coming to some realizations about the state of femininity in the United States. I think the 2008 election was very telling to this argument. The only two female role models we had even close to the running were a de-sexualized aggressive type, and a hyper-sexualized ditz type.
There are prescribed roles for women in this country, and so far, success can only be found by succumbing to one of them.
As I sit here and listen to Sarah McLachlan (irony? I think not) I wonder if to be a successful, assertive woman with power in this world, do you have to give up your femininity? To love clothes and dresses and shoes is to be seen as silly.
But if we reject fashion and make up, then we are subjected to criticism for our appearance.
Granted, times are changing. I know many men who do not make these judgments. But it is not only men who perpetuate these stereotypes, it is the women too. The women who don't have it in them to fight the system, so they abide by it. Or the women who are too weary to try. So they sit by the sidelines and make it hard for the rest of us who can't stand idly and have to play the game.
I wonder if maybe it isn't so much the positions, but the game that needs to change. Women are caretakers and homemakers which stemmed from the fact that the baby comes from woman, and in those first few seconds, it is Mama with whom the child first bonds. How many new dads can you name who are terrified to be alone with their young kids? They learn - but Mama doesn't have time to warm up, she just jumps in. Marriage came from property ownership, economics, and man's misogynistic desire to ensure the legitimacy of his offspring. Women were property traded for cows and money in exchange for their fertile wombs.
Ok, I'm getting a little reactionary here. But really...we say we've progressed, but we are in fact still clinging to ancient norms because we're afraid of what would happen if we let go.
Only four states allow gay marriage. And anyone who does not think this is a new civil rights movement will (hopefully) be very ashamed in four years. (I'm sorry if I've offended anyone's religious opinions, but I hope that you will respect mine.)
To state the question is, to me, to suggest, at once, a preliminary answer. The fact that I ask it is in itself significant. A man would never set out to write a book on the peculiar situation of the human male. But if I wish to define myself, I must first of all say: ‘I am a woman’; on this truth must be based all further discussion. A man never begins by presenting himself as an individual of a certain sex; it goes without saying that he is a man. The terms masculine and feminine are used symmetrically only as a matter of form, as on legal papers. In actuality the relation of the two sexes is not quite like that of two electrical poles, for man represents both the positive and the neutral, as is indicated by the common use of man to designate human beings in general; whereas woman represents only the negative, defined by limiting criteria, without reciprocity. In the midst of an abstract discussion it is vexing to hear a man say: ‘You think thus and so because you are a woman’; but I know that my only defence is to reply: ‘I think thus and so because it is true,’ thereby removing my subjective self from the argument. It would be out of the question to reply: ‘And you think the contrary because you are a man’, for it is understood that the fact of being a man is no peculiarity. A man is in the right in being a man; it is the woman who is in the wrong. It amounts to this: just as for the ancients there was an absolute vertical with reference to which the oblique was defined, so there is an absolute human type, the masculine. Woman has ovaries, a uterus: these peculiarities imprison her in her subjectivity, circumscribe her within the limits of her own nature. It is often said that she thinks with her glands. Man superbly ignores the fact that his anatomy also includes glands, such as the testicles, and that they secrete hormones. He thinks of his body as a direct and normal connection with the world, which he believes he apprehends objectively, whereas he regards the body of woman as a hindrance, a prison, weighed down by everything peculiar to it. ‘The female is a female by virtue of a certain lack of qualities,’ said Aristotle; ‘we should regard the female nature as afflicted with a natural defectiveness.’ And St Thomas for his part pronounced woman to be an ‘imperfect man’, an ‘incidental’ being. This is symbolised in Genesis where Eve is depicted as made from what Bossuet called ‘a supernumerary bone’ of Adam.
- Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex, Woman as Other, 1949
I'm in this class right now, Classical Women Writers, and we read and discuss classical drama written by women.
Yeah, I couldn't think of any classical women playwrights either, but there are a ton.
I'm coming to some realizations about the state of femininity in the United States. I think the 2008 election was very telling to this argument. The only two female role models we had even close to the running were a de-sexualized aggressive type, and a hyper-sexualized ditz type.
There are prescribed roles for women in this country, and so far, success can only be found by succumbing to one of them.
As I sit here and listen to Sarah McLachlan (irony? I think not) I wonder if to be a successful, assertive woman with power in this world, do you have to give up your femininity? To love clothes and dresses and shoes is to be seen as silly.
But if we reject fashion and make up, then we are subjected to criticism for our appearance.
Granted, times are changing. I know many men who do not make these judgments. But it is not only men who perpetuate these stereotypes, it is the women too. The women who don't have it in them to fight the system, so they abide by it. Or the women who are too weary to try. So they sit by the sidelines and make it hard for the rest of us who can't stand idly and have to play the game.
I wonder if maybe it isn't so much the positions, but the game that needs to change. Women are caretakers and homemakers which stemmed from the fact that the baby comes from woman, and in those first few seconds, it is Mama with whom the child first bonds. How many new dads can you name who are terrified to be alone with their young kids? They learn - but Mama doesn't have time to warm up, she just jumps in. Marriage came from property ownership, economics, and man's misogynistic desire to ensure the legitimacy of his offspring. Women were property traded for cows and money in exchange for their fertile wombs.
Ok, I'm getting a little reactionary here. But really...we say we've progressed, but we are in fact still clinging to ancient norms because we're afraid of what would happen if we let go.
Only four states allow gay marriage. And anyone who does not think this is a new civil rights movement will (hopefully) be very ashamed in four years. (I'm sorry if I've offended anyone's religious opinions, but I hope that you will respect mine.)
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
almost there.
So I've hit the home stretch. 30 days until I graduate. Thank. God.
On the other hand, I have four papers, two tests, three programs to plan, two conferences to attend, and a few other things that I haven't even begun to think about yet. To complete in 30 days.
On another note, I brought back a TON of candy and junk food from home this weekend. My Easter loot. So much for eating healthy.
I was in Cleveland this weekend for the holiday, and let me tell you, my family is a little absurd. I love them, don't get me wrong. But it's Easter, so of course, what do you do on Easter? Easter egg hunt. But in my family, we have two. One for the kiddies. And one for the big kiddies.
Pause: yes, my family has started the tradition of an ADULT easter egg hunt.
We put little slips of paper inside the eggs with numbers that correspond to the generic brown paper lunch bag, inside which you will find everything from gym socks to gift cards.
Last year I even got a little mini Chambord.
We is a class-y bunch.
So I love my family. And it's fun. But there is always an element of drama, undercurrents of tension, etc. etc. And what was so nice about it, was that this trip home solidified my need and my desire to go away.
Of course there are things I will miss, but on the whole, knowing where I came from, only makes me even more anxious to go out and see the world. I see the dangers of living in a bubble, and I don't want that for myself, or (and there is still yes the slightest possibility of this) my children.
I think these next 30 days are going to be more stressful than they have to be, because I really already know what I'm doing with my life. Or at least the next two years of it. It's not like I'm going to fail any of my classes, so I really don't need to be that terribly hard on myself.
I've just lost all my motivation for school work. Senioritis, I believe they are calling it. My mom's a therapist and told me that a kid came in and everyone thought he was depressed...it just turns out his apathy had reached an epic stage.
I'm not that bad, but I'm ready to move on.
On the other hand, I have four papers, two tests, three programs to plan, two conferences to attend, and a few other things that I haven't even begun to think about yet. To complete in 30 days.
On another note, I brought back a TON of candy and junk food from home this weekend. My Easter loot. So much for eating healthy.
I was in Cleveland this weekend for the holiday, and let me tell you, my family is a little absurd. I love them, don't get me wrong. But it's Easter, so of course, what do you do on Easter? Easter egg hunt. But in my family, we have two. One for the kiddies. And one for the big kiddies.
Pause: yes, my family has started the tradition of an ADULT easter egg hunt.
We put little slips of paper inside the eggs with numbers that correspond to the generic brown paper lunch bag, inside which you will find everything from gym socks to gift cards.
Last year I even got a little mini Chambord.
We is a class-y bunch.
So I love my family. And it's fun. But there is always an element of drama, undercurrents of tension, etc. etc. And what was so nice about it, was that this trip home solidified my need and my desire to go away.
Of course there are things I will miss, but on the whole, knowing where I came from, only makes me even more anxious to go out and see the world. I see the dangers of living in a bubble, and I don't want that for myself, or (and there is still yes the slightest possibility of this) my children.
I think these next 30 days are going to be more stressful than they have to be, because I really already know what I'm doing with my life. Or at least the next two years of it. It's not like I'm going to fail any of my classes, so I really don't need to be that terribly hard on myself.
I've just lost all my motivation for school work. Senioritis, I believe they are calling it. My mom's a therapist and told me that a kid came in and everyone thought he was depressed...it just turns out his apathy had reached an epic stage.
I'm not that bad, but I'm ready to move on.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
my favorite reactions
I'm a graduating Senior so naturally every time I tell someone that they immediately ask me, 'oh, what are your plans?'
And with a double major in drama and psychology, they will also inevitably ask 'what are you going to do with that?'
Which leads to a 'Well, I'm actually joining the peace corps.'
What I've discovered:
Very few Americans know where Azerbaijan is. Let alone have heard of it. Least of all can pronounce it.
Few Americans also know what the peace corps is, let me elaborate:
Friend 1: I'm so happy for you! I want a picture of you in your little Peace Corps Uniform.
Me: We don't have uniforms, this isn't like the military.
Friend 1: *genuine look of immense disappointment*
Me: I'll find a uniform just for you and take a picture in it.
Me: Yeah, I'm going to the Peace corps.
Friend 2: Are you going to shave your head?
Me: *stunned silence* Wait, Why?
Friend 2: Well, you know, since you won't be able to bathe if you shave your head your hair won't get all ratty.
Me: I don't plan on not bathing, and I think they bathe where I'm going.
Friend 2: Oh, well I just figured that's what I would do.
Me: Yeah, a bunch of us go in a group, and then we get sent out to different sites.
Friend 3: Ooo, I hope you come back with a husband.
From my more normal friends and relatives, I've gotten the requisite range of reactions, including shock, surprise, delight, disappointment, etc. My dad was honest in that he was excited, but part of him really did hope that I wouldn't actually go. My mom is supportive, but reserved about where I'm going. She is very Christian, and Azerbaijan is a secular Islamic state...so that's strange for her. In fact, when I said they should come meet me somewhere for the holidays, her only stipulation was that we go "someplace where they have Christmas." I don't think my grandma really knew what the Peace Corps was when I first told her, she sort of implied that I was being selfish, and even asked if I was "just applying on a whim." Then I think she went and talked to some of her friends at Church, and immediately she understood the significance of this, because she came back to me and we had some really amazing conversations about it.
I don't leave for a long time, but I leave NY soon, and sadly, come May, this will be the last time I will see a lot of people from NYU - quite possibly forever. This reality is hitting me, but I don't know how to deal with it. I haven't started dealing with it yet - this could get interesting.
And with a double major in drama and psychology, they will also inevitably ask 'what are you going to do with that?'
Which leads to a 'Well, I'm actually joining the peace corps.'
What I've discovered:
Very few Americans know where Azerbaijan is. Let alone have heard of it. Least of all can pronounce it.
Few Americans also know what the peace corps is, let me elaborate:
Friend 1: I'm so happy for you! I want a picture of you in your little Peace Corps Uniform.
Me: We don't have uniforms, this isn't like the military.
Friend 1: *genuine look of immense disappointment*
Me: I'll find a uniform just for you and take a picture in it.
Me: Yeah, I'm going to the Peace corps.
Friend 2: Are you going to shave your head?
Me: *stunned silence* Wait, Why?
Friend 2: Well, you know, since you won't be able to bathe if you shave your head your hair won't get all ratty.
Me: I don't plan on not bathing, and I think they bathe where I'm going.
Friend 2: Oh, well I just figured that's what I would do.
Me: Yeah, a bunch of us go in a group, and then we get sent out to different sites.
Friend 3: Ooo, I hope you come back with a husband.
From my more normal friends and relatives, I've gotten the requisite range of reactions, including shock, surprise, delight, disappointment, etc. My dad was honest in that he was excited, but part of him really did hope that I wouldn't actually go. My mom is supportive, but reserved about where I'm going. She is very Christian, and Azerbaijan is a secular Islamic state...so that's strange for her. In fact, when I said they should come meet me somewhere for the holidays, her only stipulation was that we go "someplace where they have Christmas." I don't think my grandma really knew what the Peace Corps was when I first told her, she sort of implied that I was being selfish, and even asked if I was "just applying on a whim." Then I think she went and talked to some of her friends at Church, and immediately she understood the significance of this, because she came back to me and we had some really amazing conversations about it.
I don't leave for a long time, but I leave NY soon, and sadly, come May, this will be the last time I will see a lot of people from NYU - quite possibly forever. This reality is hitting me, but I don't know how to deal with it. I haven't started dealing with it yet - this could get interesting.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
ah the theatre...
Hm. Theater. or Theat-re. I like the -re version better. British. Sounds more refined.
Anyway.
It's been part of my life since I was in the 5th grade. Well, actually acting has ALWAYS been in my life in one aspect or another, class projects, choir, etc. But I didn't really think about doing it for any other reason than to do it until I was in the 5th grade. I was what, 10? 11?
That's over 10 years.
I saw a friend's dance concert tonight, and it was so wonderful. I was finally very proud of NYU's undergraduate arts program, because it was the first solid piece of undergraduate work I've seen. I've seen a few pieces here and there, hit and miss, but this one struck a chord.
I feel like after all the training I've had, after coming to college to be an actor, I will never be able to sit through a live piece of theatre the same way again.
Part of me just wants to get up there and jump in. Part of me is also terriffied of being up there. I still don't quite feel right in my own skin. But that was one thing that never seemed to matter when I really sunk my teeth into a part and let go.
What was nice, is that I was able to see so many talented individuals onstage and not think, oh, I could never have made it. I was able to think, oh, that's not my life anymore. Which is hard in its own right, and still difficult for me to swallow. But it's a fact, and it's a choice I've made. I am at least able to see individuals who care about this and only this so passionately, that they will carry it on where I could not. Leaving me free to go where I think I should be.
That is the problem though, I'm still not sure where that is yet.
I'm doing the Peace Corps. I think I have all the right reasons. And there are moments when this just feels like everything I need to be doing. Like so much has led me to be able to make this step.
But there are other times when it feels so random. And so frightening, that I just wonder how I'm going to deal with it all.
I'm definitely going to kiss theatre good bye for a while. Which is ok. I'll bring some plays. I'll have my showtunes. If not on my iPod because I can't charge it, then in my head. :)
I really do know that what I am about to do is going to be so much more rewarding than spending my time in manhattan slaving away trying to get a part that will pay the rent - with artistic interest and expression a secondary byproduct of the work. Art being something that you strive for, a luxury that can only be achieved once you figure out how to pay your bills. And even then, you're still a victim of the commercial industry, which is all about making money and supplying the demand of the market.
I know what I am doing is what I should be doing. But sometimes it is hard for me to give over to it. I'm still a little scared. But I think that's natural. I have 6 months to adjust to the idea until I go, so I know I will be ok.
On another note, the community theatre where I grew up, where I spent those precious and pivotal 10 years of my life, is in a dire financial situation. Apparently, if they don't raise enough money by the end of the month, they'll have to close, likely for good.
And there it is, in a nutshell. The place where my dreams were created, can close in less than four weeks because of money. It's sad, no?
Anyway.
It's been part of my life since I was in the 5th grade. Well, actually acting has ALWAYS been in my life in one aspect or another, class projects, choir, etc. But I didn't really think about doing it for any other reason than to do it until I was in the 5th grade. I was what, 10? 11?
That's over 10 years.
I saw a friend's dance concert tonight, and it was so wonderful. I was finally very proud of NYU's undergraduate arts program, because it was the first solid piece of undergraduate work I've seen. I've seen a few pieces here and there, hit and miss, but this one struck a chord.
I feel like after all the training I've had, after coming to college to be an actor, I will never be able to sit through a live piece of theatre the same way again.
Part of me just wants to get up there and jump in. Part of me is also terriffied of being up there. I still don't quite feel right in my own skin. But that was one thing that never seemed to matter when I really sunk my teeth into a part and let go.
What was nice, is that I was able to see so many talented individuals onstage and not think, oh, I could never have made it. I was able to think, oh, that's not my life anymore. Which is hard in its own right, and still difficult for me to swallow. But it's a fact, and it's a choice I've made. I am at least able to see individuals who care about this and only this so passionately, that they will carry it on where I could not. Leaving me free to go where I think I should be.
That is the problem though, I'm still not sure where that is yet.
I'm doing the Peace Corps. I think I have all the right reasons. And there are moments when this just feels like everything I need to be doing. Like so much has led me to be able to make this step.
But there are other times when it feels so random. And so frightening, that I just wonder how I'm going to deal with it all.
I'm definitely going to kiss theatre good bye for a while. Which is ok. I'll bring some plays. I'll have my showtunes. If not on my iPod because I can't charge it, then in my head. :)
I really do know that what I am about to do is going to be so much more rewarding than spending my time in manhattan slaving away trying to get a part that will pay the rent - with artistic interest and expression a secondary byproduct of the work. Art being something that you strive for, a luxury that can only be achieved once you figure out how to pay your bills. And even then, you're still a victim of the commercial industry, which is all about making money and supplying the demand of the market.
I know what I am doing is what I should be doing. But sometimes it is hard for me to give over to it. I'm still a little scared. But I think that's natural. I have 6 months to adjust to the idea until I go, so I know I will be ok.
On another note, the community theatre where I grew up, where I spent those precious and pivotal 10 years of my life, is in a dire financial situation. Apparently, if they don't raise enough money by the end of the month, they'll have to close, likely for good.
And there it is, in a nutshell. The place where my dreams were created, can close in less than four weeks because of money. It's sad, no?
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