Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Wish List Wednesday

It's that time again folks! Wheeee internet capitalism subject to my childish whims!

First up, this one's really more for necessity than desire. Although I guess I desire it too...anywho, as a swimmer I need a new suit goddamn it. I'm over due on buying a new one and tired of double suiting with my decrepit drag suit.

Moving onwards, with the 4th of July weekend coming up and the actual holiday being on Sunday, the remaining two items pay tribute to our nation. Tribute is in a cute fashion of course.

Lastly, a different twist on an old favorite. Yes my sweet tooth is still slightly running a muck, but last night was steered towards bread, steak and wine, so this tasty treat is perfectly within reason.

These "American as apple pie bars" also look much more reasonable than me devouring a pie.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Oh la la! ;)

For a while today, I was struggling with what topic I should write about. Initially body image discussions jumped to my mind, after discussing with Chelsea yesterday at the mall and based upon her most recent posting series, however, I'm in the mood for my own thoughts. Most of my day has been spent feeling gross, damn you Troy Chinese food, and coding. From these two feelings I decided to look on the bright side and reflect on conversations, fun times with Chelsea yesterday, and a certain red dress.

What is sexy? What does it mean for someone to be sexy?

Many people twist this word. Often times we think of lingerie, dramatic lighting, "sexyface", intricate poses and a lot of skin. Others defend the idea of sexy as a synonym for confidence. Sexy also can be adapted to many forms, since it is a descriptor of what people find sexually appealing. Everyone's different. I am personally on the side of sexy being intertwined with confidence for the main reason that if you are not confident, or at least okay with yourself, it becomes a bit difficult mentally to perform sexual acts with a smile. As I'm sure many of you are well aware of by now, I try to live life with a smile.

Sexy to me includes lingerie, but also the actions that follow it. I am fairly outgoing. I've dressed up under normal clothes for a surprise. On the milder side, a public kiss of passion can also be sexy as hell. It's the way you walk, smile, and overall carry yourself. I feel sexy naked, but also sexy in a floor length gown. The ultimate win for me is lounging and walking around the apartment in just my underwear and a tank top. Sexy is comfy. Sexy is confident. Sexy has a smile on its face.

Too often is a certain classical idea of "sexiness" crammed down the throats of American females. Dudes, just flash me a smile and have your shirt off and chances are you're good. Girls it seems like we have a complex algorithm to fit to, and the steepest descent method just won't find that minima. I feel sexy exercising with just my sports bra on top, not because I have awesome abs (they're there somewhere under the flab I swear), but because it makes me smile gaining a feeling of accomplishment after a workout.

Men and women seem to have differing opinions on sexiness and beauty, as personally interpreted from observations in society and reading the Scarlett Johansson verses Jessica Alba discussion on a friend's facebook note. I personally reject this idea. Sexy is as sexy chooses to be. There's got to be some common ground, otherwise, I feel like fewer people would be getting laid in the world. This is a post which I am interested in reader's opinions. If you have any idea at all, please don't hesitate to type it.

What do you say folks? What does "sexy" mean to you?

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Porous Enlightenment

(Note this post was meant to be for Saturday)

Yesterday was Friday. I woke up, had breakfast, went to the library, coded, swam, went to lunch, cleaned, hung out with friends, had dinner with my Dad and drank with friends later. I proceeded through all of these activities in a different way, familiar yet unsure of the new step I had tiptoed into.

Yesterday I did not wear make-up.

Now truthfully, that's a lie, since I did wear a brush of mascara on each upper eyelash, however, that was it. For some, this is a so what? issue, but for those who know me, the times you will see me without make-up can be categorized as when I get out of the pool instantly after swimming, or in the morning after I shower before it is applied. There are some instances of me being less than put together, but the chemical shield travels with me, so even if it's not fully on now, you can bet it will be in the next five minutes. Bottom line, I'm normally covering my face.

Now there is more than one reason for why I wear make-up. The first one originally was because of my acne. While being blessed and not having any discernible large amount of body acne, all of it went to my face in adolescence. Zits, black heads, white heads, and some form of constant rash thing which I can't remember the name of around my nostrils left my face in a mish-mosh of redness. No one wants to see that. Even if everyone else in the world didn't care, I was still forced to see that every time I passed a mirror or reflective surface. It's a well known fact girls check themselves out.

The other, slightly less justifiable, reasons range from the petty to reflections of societal standards. Everyone else wore it. My Mom did not let me wear make-up before Junior year of high school, and while it was annoying at the time feeling like one of the non-pretty girls, I can understand her rational. At 14, you are a baby in the grand scheme of life and shouldn't be focusing on growing up just yet. I didn't see the reasons why I shouldn't wear makeup. I wanted to wear make-up because it made me look pretty, cute, attractive or whatever the word of the day you want to fill in.

The last statement is where the problem lies. While teenage girls are really geysers of insecurity and catty games, ready to blow at any point, they have to look nice while being horrible to live with. A low self-esteem starting point easily leads to an elevation of a problem. Makeup changed from something I did every morning as a choice, into a routine that I was bound to. Instead of something that enhanced my image, it became the only thing that made my face attractive to people in my mind. Outlining this frame of mind that possessed me, and still sometimes does, helps magnify the true weight of an early statement in this post, "Yesterday I did not wear make-up". When a false mask becomes the norm, it becomes very difficult to come to terms with, and appreciate, the reality before you.

I am not damning make-up. Given the time, place, occasion, and person, makeup poses no harm, however, it is almost comparable to substance abuse. For some people with alcohol, they need it to function and face the world. The same could be said for makeup and the ceaseless drive for girls in society to look perfect. It is an addictive means to an end. With this being said, makeup is fun. Anyone who's gotten ready for a ridiculous party can agree with that. I enjoy making my eyes pop with a purple liner and gold shadow around the crease line, however, not feeling acceptable to leave the house without concealer is a cage no one wants to be in. Yesterday I didn't wear makeup and didn't feel any different than when I do. I still enjoyed hanging out, dinner, friends and work. Yesterday was a good day.

Friday, June 25, 2010


Compliments, not complements haha math, don't make the world go round, but they help provide a little extra elbow grease to keep life running a bit more smoothly. On facebook, I recently copied my friend Laura's status message of:
If you "like" this status, I will post something on your wall that I like about you, no matter if we barely know each other or you think it'll be awkward. (Post this as your status for a challenge.)

I saw this last night and really appreciated the sentiment. It seemed like on of those slightly sappy little sweet nothings that the world can always use. The one thing I don't agree with in it is, which there is more discussion on later, the line "Post this as your status for a challenge". Optimistically, I chose to believe that this "challenge" is a call to people to be a bit nicer, a bit sweeter, a bit more joyful in their lives and appreciate their fellow man. Instead, I think some people may have read this "challenge" as a task to be completed, or as something mundane and forced like a long differential equations homework assignment. I do not agree with the idea of a "forced compliment" as Chelsea commented, or the lackluster attitude my friend Nick had towards it. Compliments should never be forced, and I try not to approach them that way, save for some awkward times meeting relatives and being polite. Perhaps that is why people don't seem to give compliments as they should. The lack of sincerity behind a compliment transforms it into not being worthy to be uttered at all.

It's all or nothing folks.

While I whole-heatedly believe that people should be a bit nicer, smile a bit wider and love their fellow man, if you are going to live that way, it has to be in truth. You can't, or shouldn't, bullshit kindness. I might be investing too much emotional stock in this, being a sappy dewy-eyed girl from JHS contributes to this, but so be it. If it means being thought of as silly, simple or ridiculous, that's fine with me, I'll have my animated flowers and happy woodland creatures any day.

Today is one of those happy summer days. The sun is shining a bit brighter, I will be in the company of family and good friends later tonight. Cleaning doesn't seem as tedious as normal, and even my coding attempts are going a bit smoother than normal. Today is a sharp contrast to my "bleh" day post. Stop and smile at the sunshine. Pick a flower and tuck it behind your ear. Give a glancing smile to those you see while walking to campus or around town. I meant every word I typed in posting those wall posts on facebook with the compliments. I apologize if some are shorter than others. They depended a bit on how well I know you since I extended it as a personal thank you and appreciation note as well as a compliment. I suppose that the overall implications of this post can be phrased as the following: live a little more truthful, a little more sincere, a little more joyful because no matter how much you want to hide it, everyone likes being sappy every once in a while.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Wish List Wednesday

After having already published a post of somewhat quality content, I can in good conscious publish happy-consumerism-time, aka it's Wish List Wednesday. I also vow to get back into the swing of things and blog more than this past week. Writing on Tuesday, Wednesday, Sunday and Wednesday feels a bit unfulfilled, and not to be too hard on myself, but almost a little pathetic. With that note of self-loathing, let's continue onwards!

Things that I've found on the internet that are awesome:
First off, these earrings are ridiculous but hey so am I.

I like feathers.

My sweet tooth has been really active this week which isn't good for the whole losing weight in the summer thing, but nostalgia makes me want these cupcakes, especially the German Chocolate cake pictured below from St. Cupcake in Portland, Oregon.

Who doesn't like cupcakes?

Lastly, while it is unavailable, I've been lusting after this threadless tee for what seems like a small eternity.

Cows are just funny. That's all for this episode of KT's consumer lusting!


While I haven't been blogging for a ridiculously long time, one would expect me to at least have mentioned a little bit about what I am doing over the summer. Why wouldn't I write about a pursuit that is taking up almost 30% of my time? For those of you who are bothering where that figure came up, I assumed 50 hours of work in the week which includes random academic, mathematical and economic thought divided by the total amount of hours in a week, so this number is actually a bit off since I do have to sleep sometime, comparable to total income verses disposable income, but I digress. Anywho, why haven't I commented on my research project yet?

My research endeavor has yet to be documented because, well, it's research. The implication behind that statement is that there is a lot that is still unfinished, open, not finite, and overall not composed into one nice neat little package. My partner, Will, and I are both in the CSUMS program in the Mathematics department at RPI, and this program is funded by the National Science Foundation, the NSF. Basically, the NSF and a couple other schools are trying to get kids back to having a hard on for research. Don't get me wrong, there are many aspects of my academic education that get me going, I'm looking at you non-linear optimization and convergence algorithms, but it still remains that research is research. With an industry problem, you have a deadline, a product to finish and manufacture, a client to satisfy so there exists some realistic finite endpoint. The same can be said for research, except that research might not have a global maxima, but you merely settle for a local maxima due to the bounded budget constraints. Your grant ran out; you're done.

Despite all my complaining, don't get me wrong, I do enjoy the work I'm doing. Being my own shared project, the project contains my own ideas shared with Will. It contains our struggles, verification of topics, and therefore is more rewarding to see the dynamics of the movements of the IS-LM model or a hypothesized utility optimization. I think I'm just worried, that after two summers and many semesters of mathematical and economics research, I will wind up trapped in the never-ending circle of research.

For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, my current status is that I have selected my time slot for taking the first Actuarial exam. On Wednesday, August 4th I will arrive to a testing site in Albany to take the first exam on probability. While I've started studying, I need to find time to kick it in to high gear. Having paid $200 on an exam fee to take a 3.5 hour exam kind of scares the heck out of me. It's high school all over again, but for me it means more. I've always had interests in finance and economics, as well as math. As a little kid, I watched the nightly Dow Jones report with my Dad. Finding an industry job to merge the two interests has been more difficult than it should be, and so finding about actuarial work gave me another spark to keep going. It seems like I want to do. It is my slingshot into the "real" world. Therefore, I really really really want to succeed at this first exam since symbolically, I'm psyching myself out, and this will be an indicator of future success.

Growing up sucks.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Benevolent Patriarch's Celebration

Today, Sunday June 20th, is Father's Day. This holiday is apparent by Hallmark cards, a rise in tie sales, everyone leaving Troy to be with family, and the Google logo being spelled out in ties on the website. I was not originally intending to blog about Father's Day but due to the fact that I have not published a post since Wednesday, and today happens to be that holiday, I figured why not. The topic post is also due to the fact that I just rolled out of bed, don't access to coffee just yet and didn't want to have to fire up the cerebral pistons just yet.

Father's Day as a holiday always gets placed into a secondary category as holidays go in my mind. Mother's Day gets all the attention in May, especially in my house where my Mom's birthday is May 11th, and Father's Day almost seems like a fill in, or something to tie people over until the huge festivities of the 4th of July in America. Maybe Father's Day then receives more credit and merit in other countries due to the absence of this celebration of independence, but honestly I wouldn't know. Father's Day was not actually recognized as a national holiday in the United States until 1972, whereas Mother's Day was sanctioned as a national holiday in 1914. That's a 52 year difference folks.

Why was there such a long disconnect in recognition?

Sources online speculate that the eclipse of Father's Day by Mother's Day is due to the higher number of families raised by single mothers in modern time, or the role of mothers in unpaid household labor. I personally would hypothesize that a lot of the under-celebrating of Father's Day is due to societal beliefs of how a family unit should operate. Since the 1950s, dads have been granted the "father knows best" ideology. Father is the ruler of his kingdom, or the household, and as a ruler oversees order and success but is not required with the micromanaging necessary. Busy work gets taken care of by Mother. While Father might do a lot at a job, or outside of the home, this effort is sometimes harder to discern, whereas Mother's efforts are in plain view. Thus, Mother gets a day of praise in the form of flowers, greeting cards, and brunch. Then it's back to work the next day.

I do have to confess that I am one of those people who doesn't give a lot of credit to Father's Day. I call my Dad on the holiday, I send him a card every year, and when I'm at home the traditional gift involves a tie or book and me making a cholesterol filled breakfast, contrary to doctor's orders. Over the years this just seemed to be the amount of effort needed, no more no less, however, as I grew up that idea changed. For a long period of time, I didn't see much of a point apart from celebrating the person who paid for things. I have not always had the best relationship with my Dad, and it's a bit hard attempting to become friends again after eight years of discomfort and a lack of trust. It's even harder to strike up a conversation with a man who you don't talk to for more than five minutes when you are 3,000 miles apart.

Why am I writing about Father's Day then if I'm not the biggest fan of the holiday or the person that I should be celebrating? If you know me personally, I am a black and white cookie. Tastes great, but very different on a lot of issues, as I oscillate wildly from being a horrible cynic to a dewy-eyed optimist. Father's Day is a holiday I'd like to move into the dewy-eyed region. I'd like to have a relationship again with my Dad, and not just a working one, but one where I can sit down and ask about cars. One where I can talk about guys and not feel the righteous hand of God falling down upon me in Catholic guilt. One where we can have a conversation that doesn't happen behind a HIMYM or Two and Half Men episode.

So, with this opening confession in mind and sappy future intentions, Happy Father's Day Dad. I'm pretty sure you don't read my blog, and I have no idea if Mom told you about it at all, but you will be getting a call later today.


P.S. To the rest of the readers, this song has been dancing around my head for the past two days and I wanted to pass it on.!

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Wish List Wednesday

While the majority of the content in my blog is original work and ideas, like any writer I am going to want to replicate a great idea. Thus, I am replicating Chelsea's "Wish List Wednesday". I think it's a cute idea, and after my bleh post of yesterday, I could use some happy consumerist desires.

Things I've found around on the internet that need me to love them:
The hippy in me wants this tunic:

And yes I probably would wear it with braids in my hair and leather sandals or boots and look ridiculous. Flower optional.

These sunglasses will probably be my splurge at the end of the summer as a reward to myself:

Who doesn't love classic Ray-Ban's?

Lastly, this camera:

Because who says hipsters have all the fun? Besides, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I am from Portland after all. I'm allowed to be an eccentric hipster with hippy flair in your face :P

Tuesday, June 15, 2010


It's just one of those days, and it's only Tuesday. One of those days where you get out of bed, and you're not necessarily having a bad day, but it's just that much harder to get out of bed, that much harder to get into the shower--one of those days. It's one of those days where you can't get your strapless bra to hook no matter how many positions you try, so you give up and wear a sleeved dress instead. Today is one of those days where you take extra long to walk to the office. When you inhale a chocolate muffin, because dear God you really want it even though you know you shouldn't eat it after having a bagel already, but eating that muffin is probably going to be the high point of your day.

I'm not having a bad day, but I'm definitely having a "bleh" day.

Having a bad day is easier, or almost preferable for me, since there is at least some climax in the day. A bad day is full of dips and momentary rises to make the dips seem so much worse, whereas a bleh day is just a long line of steady state that actually isn't helpful because you wanted a much more dynamic process to your life. A bad day can normally be justified why it is so bad; you did poorly on an exam, your boyfriend told you he hasn't loved you anymore for over a month, you slipped in the dirty snow and walked to class as an exhibit of a gross mess. The bleh days are more annoying because they have no justification. They simply appear and nestle upon your day like a mist settling in on a summer day to add uncomfortable mugginess.

You can or cannot be fully awake on a bad day, however, on a bleh day your eyes still feel a bit comatose even after two cups of tea and a large coffee. On a bleh day, it's only 10:40 am and you've consumed that much caffeine.

I'll take a bad day over a bleh day any day since I would rather have the pits because they are tied to a peak. Bleh days are an endless plateau of exasperated sighs.

Bleh days can suck it.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Yay Childhood!....right?

For those of you who are not aware of random tidbits about me, while I am from Portland, Oregon, I was actually born in Southern California and lived in Laguna Niguel for the first six and a half years of my life. This can lead to some thoughts about my childhood, at one point I was not as pale, I got to go to the beach a lot more, and yes I went to Disneyland. Laguna Niguel is approximately a 45 minute drive to the happiest place on Earth, Anahiem, CA also known as home to Disneyland. I'm pretty sure nothing else really happens there, or if it does, it eludes my six-year-old self. Anywho, what I mean to say is, growing up in the early 90s in Southern California, I loved Disney.

Who wouldn't? It's only the most magical place on Earth right? Yes, East Coast inhabitants, I am aware that Disney World is bigger, however they have humidity and I'm pretty sure magic isn't as powerful in the humidity. It makes everything damp, and who likes being a damp, moist, hot sweaty mess?

The early 90s were a highlight in the movie production of Disney with just the right timing of artists, storytellers and musical talent all coming together to produce films that define our childhood. Who in this day and age hasn't heard or seen at least one of the films, The Little Mermaid, The Lion King, Aladdin, or Beauty and the Beast? Let's not lie here, I had merchandise and so did you. Somewhere in Goodwill bags there lies a Lion King shirt, and who doesn't still remember the words to "Hakuna Matata"? When Disney comes together, they really hit home. When they miss, it's never a complete loss just not very close to the bull's eye. Now a significant note should me made; I am referencing solely Disney films, which means an exclusion of Disney-Pixar collaborations.

Seriously, who remembers or even bothered to see Brother Bear? The Hunchback of Notre Dame scared a lot of little kids in my babysitting experience.

If you look at the dates, Disney didn't really produce any quality animated films for a ten year period.

This past year we saw The Princess and The Frog, which while a bit cliqued was refreshing to see hand-drawn animation and a nostalgic nod to the Princess franchise that Disney does so well (Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White, Aladdin to some extent). Is the Princess franchise slightly outdated, contrary to modern feminist ideals, and overly reliant upon some Prince Charming to save a powerless, skill-less dewy-eyed girl with realistically impossible waist? Yes, yes and yes. Personally though, I still like them. I'm not going to go sit in a tower doing needlepoint for the rest of my days, but I'm pretty sure every little girl put on a toy tiara at some point or at least wanted to.

So where am I going with this? I try not to do too much nostalgia. Time realistically goes forward (no relativistic physics discussions on this post). While the marching on of time, we see a new fusion of the Pixar-esque 3-D animation, not actual Pixar on this endeavor, with the Princess franchise in the upcoming release Tangled. It will be interesting to see how this is received by the now adults of the 90s and the new generation who's become so accustomed to computer animation everywhere.

While it is a bit too early to judge how this film will be played out, one thing's for sure. I'm seeing it because I'm a crazy die-hard, and well, there's a cute iguana as a supporting character.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Wine, Beer, Whiskey and Family

Today I spent most of the day being relatively quantitatively unproductive, but I consider today to have been an overall qualitative success. After waking up and lounging around in bed, I had brunch with research and summer friends, and then met up with Nick and Sarah to go down to Uncle Ricky's Bagel Heaven on Broadway and 5th downtown. The latter half of that sentence summarizes most of my day: food and talk with Nick and Sarah. After Uncle Ricky's we went to Gelateria Lisa over in the part of Little Italy for gelatto, to my place for cards, then after a quick trip to PChop, back to my place again for pasta dinner and Law Abiding Citizen.

After hanging out for over ten hours so far, one would think that our conversations covered a varied range of topics, and thankfully that would be correct. Instead of a summary of the overall discussion, this post focuses on one of the title nouns--whiskey. While not directly, the three of us discussed a lot of things about family dynamics, marriage, children and thoughts for the future. In my extended family, and immediate, one of the life little lessons slipped in companionship has been that alcohol is not a huge thing in life. In America, our culture and a lot of parenting, I personally think that it is overly built up as a taboo substance, and although it can lead to potential problems, should not be so overly exaggerated. This unnecessary culmination of caution could be one of the reasons that so many people in college unhealthily binge drink. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that we should be sober Susans, and I am definitely not trying to act like a saint, that'd be hypocritical, however the build up just seems silly to me.

If my memory serves me well, which is mostly reliable despite past concussions, I had my first full beer at around 15. I had my first taste of wine around 12. The first time I tasted whiskey I was either a Junior or Senior in high school. Each of these times were in the company of family; at the family shore trip, at the dinner table, and watching t.v. in the evening with my Dad. Some tastes came easier than others and tastes have developed in an interesting way. Erin will tell you I drink like a man. When it comes to beer, I'm not a fan of IPAs but prefer Hefeweizens. I like most all wines, mainly darker robust reds especially a Cabernet, but every once in a while I'll be "girly" and enjoy a Chardonnay. When it comes to hard liquor, I like vodka, many types of whiskey, gin, but tequila and rum are not my favorites. It goes without saying that Bailey's is delicious.

Not to toot my own horn, but I'd like to think that I've tried a good deal of things thus far in my 20 years and three complete years at college, but I enjoy interaction, and therefore would like to pose a question. To anyone on the internet, friends, strangers and random acquaintances and co-workers who read my blog, what are your favorite drinks, why, and is there anything new you'd recommend? It's still only mid-June in Troy and the summer's heat will need something to quench it's thirst.

If you include cocktails, please kindly describe the recipe the best you can if it's not ridiculously common.

Thanks and I hope to enjoy!

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Summer Irritation

Allergies can go die. It is now Saturday, and for the past week, I'm pretty sure my ability to breathe fully, which includes being sneeze free for more than two hours, has not existed since Sunday. Granted, I have been up for less than two hours, have yet to have any coffee and stayed up late with two nights of less than excellent sleep so I'm a bit grumpy, but I am getting fed up of only having one operational nostril at a time.

There we go, I just sneezed again. Damn you snot.

Now it has been noted that I have a cute, almost dainty, sneeze. This is counter-balanced though by the countering action--blowing my nose. While my sneeze may be cute, blowing my nose can only be described as the sound of a foghorn hellbent on notifying everyone of its presence. The forceful motion of this process spanned over a week makes me think my mother may be right. Blowing too hard is going to blow my brains out, or lead to more pain, congestion and discomfort. I'd go for blowing my brains out instead.

The day is not bad after popping a Zyrtec, but I don't like popping pills on a daily basis to be functionally operational. Temporary breathing comes in a steamy shower or after having coffee and tea due to the steam, but then I just run the risk of being a leaky faucet all over my face. That's only really tolerable on babies since they're so damn cute and you expect them to be moist; it's not so cute on a 20-year-old girl.

So, if anyone has any ideas, methods, pills, medications or home remedies that might assist with congestion and/or allergies I'm all ears since I'm only half nose. Until this is solved, listen for a cute "achoo" followed by a foghorn to know I'm still part of the living.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


The little amusements in life come to you in odd forms at random times. Sex is an integral part of who we are, no matter how puritanical, no matter how much denial, and no matter how much you don't want to hear about it. I have sex. You have sex. We have sex. Pronouns have sex. Therefore, people engage in sexytimes as it has been dubbed by my friend Chelsea. By the way, just to clear all doubt, I love you Chelsea.

Sex happens and most likely, if not now, or in the past, most people will engage in sexytimes at some point in life. If this is such a given in life, why are people hesitant to discuss it? We like Popsicle and we discuss those. We dislike angry cats, yet we talk about those. It is possible to talk about good and bad things, and while sex can be both and a flexible range of things in between, we do not talk about it. Why? This question is frustrating to me for many reasons: judgmental society, gender double standards, the virgin/whore complex and general immaturity.

The answer I would like to propose, or at least for this example, is the fact that sex involves people. For the sake of this argument, I'm not including bestiality and performing sexual acts on something that is not another human being. I'm not hatin', it just doesn't suit the framework of this argument. The proposition I present is that society as a whole and people are hesitant, or label it a taboo, to talk about sex because it involves people. The caring optimistic romantic in me chooses to believe that it is out of a natural tendency to not want to hurt or offend others, not because we care about perceived reputations, but for the protection of the partner. You did what? With who? She wanted what? Those kind of questions break away the barriers surrounding people to reach their "true" selves. While one's true self is glorious, beautiful and amazing, it can also be subject to high vulnerability.

Talking about, writing about, thinking about sex can reveal things about people. While they may be false, there also exist truths. The truth is real, brutal, harsh and chilling. It can tear friendships apart, turn friends into mournful strangers and continue to exist as a haunting thirsty ghost long after the initial blow is struck, however, it can reinforce the beauty in friendships and remind you of a treasure you thought you lost.

I am aware that I'm getting kind of preachy and "deep" here, but well, this is subject to my ramblings and rants, and no matter how much I'd like to deny it, I have some things on my mind. I am a whole person, I am comfortable with myself and I feel that I am finally getting close again to being able to call myself a good person. I guess ramblings just wanted to flow out tonight. In relationships, from a one night stand to a intense committed relationship, be respectful. Be caring, considerate and courteous to your fellow man and woman. No one likes kicking walls.

On a lighter note, I also think people don't like talking about sex because the male form is floppity. Yes, floppity. No offense boys, but I think you are. We are all complicated, but we get a nice little cover. While it takes two people to make sexytime, a girl doing sexytime by herself is just a bit jiggly, while boy solo sexytime is floppity.

Finally, body image issues can go suck a blowpop for all I care :D

Dance Dance Dance Till You're Dead

First off, I will give an imaginary dollar to whoever correctly guesses what song that is from without googling it or using some outside reference. With that being said, there isn't much structure to this post apart from a mind burp of opinion while I dance around. Yes I am currently sitting down, but I was dancing to the prior mentioned song three minutes ago in my office. Yeah that's right, I dance in public...or at least in an office in Amos Eaton.

People need to dance more. It feels good, it's fun, and then I'd have more company when I randomly break out into dance in my apartment, walking and on campus as well as in the car. I never took any formal dance classes when I was a little girl; I didn't get to be a little ballerina except for visiting my much older friend Rachel. Rachel was the icon for my eight year old self, and later went on to study at Julliard, dance professionally in Toronto and now owns her own dance studio back in Portland. Anyway, enough nostalgia. Dancing is fun. Dance like you're today's your last day, like you're in love with life, or at the very least like there's a creepy ant on your back that you can't shake off and don't want to squish. Seriously, who wants dead ant guts on their back?

While I passionately enjoy dancing, I have no idea if I'm any good at all. I'd like to think that I am decent, but overall I don't really care. Why should I? It makes me happy, it makes me smile, and I feel truly myself when I dance. I've been told I am awkward, a free spirit, very fluid, a great dancer and all over the place. While everyone can fall victim to caring what other people think, I believe that the initial five seconds of silence when someone surprises you by noticing you dancing or walking in on you is so little compared to joyous movement.

I don't really know if there ended up being an overall cohesive message to this post, but dance. Ignore that Fall Out Boy song of Dance Dance or whatever it's called because I find it annoying, but hey if that floats your boat and it'll get you moving, then who am I to discriminate?

Dance like the sun, dance like you want to, dance for the eight year old girl who never earned dance class due to soccer teams, dance to make up for all those awkward times at middle and high school dances, and dance because you love this run-on sentence.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Fatigue, Cuddles and General Social Commentary

I have heard that it's not best to work when you are not at your best, however, I have never actually followed that. With that being said, and although I generally try not to be in public, this post may be a bit cynical or jaded. After going to bed after 2 am and waking up a little bit after 7 am, combined with an unsuccessful napping attempt, I am tired. Not your ordinary worn out tired, but rather your fatigued with the world, eyes are tired and heavy and filled with a sense of longing for someone to wrap you in their arms and lay on a sofa together tired. In short, I need a cuddle.

While I am currently single, this is not a post lamenting that status. People, of both genders, simply liked to feel warm, whole and secure. These emotions are often, for myself at least, is achieved through a good cuddle. While being single can be a great feeling in life, well it makes it that much harder to achieve the ever longing fulfilling cuddles sensation. Let's be honest people; "body pillows" don't hug back, your stuffed animal is, generally, smaller than you and doesn't apply the right pressure for you to be little spoon, and my landlord doesn't allow me to have a large dog. In short, it's hard to get a cuddle when you're single. The only thing that comes close, technologically, is this body-pillow contraption that moves and supposedly either is heated, glows or emits noises called the "emotional robot". Honestly, I'm not quite sure what it is, but I don't trust a moving pillow. Don't get me started on the Japanese marrying pillows with blown up pictures of anime girls on them....

On to the somewhat negative side of this post. Cuddles are synonymous to happiness, pink and blue clouds, teddy bears and cute pictures of little kids holding hands in black and white. I have to put in some rain cloud somewhere don't I? Being from the West Coast, free love still lives on. The East Coast hippies grew up, cut their hair and got jobs leaving behind their relaxed ways. While West Coast hippies did the same, there exist a good deal of them who didn't, thus I like to think friendly relations are more common on the West. We smile at people walking by. I great friends when they arrive or leave with hugs. Yes, I have cuddled with a large group of friends while watching a long marathon of both Die Hard movies and the Star Wars original trilogy. Cuddling and friendship go hand and hand in my book.

Somewhere along the way, the East Coast decided to be mean and judgmental. For all I know, it dated the South and thought she was sweet but then she left and cheated on him with the Mid West leaving a questioning, jaded coast. Whatever the psychological and sociological truthful differences may be between the coasts are, I've personally found it much harder to initiate cuddling with friends back here. There's always a hidden meaning behind it; a guy and a girl can't simply enjoy each others embrace without it obtaining a sexual connotation or hidden meaning. Damn you silly East Coast.

The moral of the story is kiddies: I'm tired and could use a warm cuddle, but despise the difficulty of getting one.

That's all.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Drumroll please?

Well now, this is my first ever blog post. It feels a bit weird to tell the truth. I have always been one to write since I could hold a pencil. I still have my first diaries from first grade, spelling errors and all, documenting my family's move from Southern California to Portland, Oregon. I wrote my first serious poems in third grade. I have most every short story, poem, observation and furious rant that I ever wrote in notebooks in my room both in Troy and in Portland. I keep a journal to this day in print form, and have also always blended my literary passion with an irrepressible drive to draw.

Perhaps my blending of visual and literary observation is why I never "blogged" up until this point. Never did I think that I could preserve this molding in the electronic form of a public post. Also, most works are kept private. My artistic thoughts, or idiotic ones for that matter, are often kept private in my room where anyone who dares to glimpse at them without permission will find themselves tackled. Perhaps the blending of mediums combined with my hesitancy of vunerability prohibited me from considering having a blog.

Or maybe I just thought it was an overrated bandwagon that I thought was silly.

Great expression can come from everywhere, but I don't like to think of myself as included with soccer moms professing their devotion to a sparkly vampire.

So why then am I writing this now? Why am I "selling out" or giving in to this trend?

Summers at RPI, currently experiencing my second, are a time of truth. There are fewer students around, an air of freedom different from the stifling winter wind exists, and it becomes easier to try something new. Therefore the final rational for this is, well, I feel like it so there.

This is an adventure on my part, a leap of faith, a test to see if anyone is interested and for myself to be more committed in consistency. Don't make fun, don't judge or if you do, don't document that judgment. Life is short, life is precious, life is fun and life is a silly blog where I ramble and attempt to make myself and other smile. Welcome to my ramblings.