So there’s a hurricane going on outside; yes folks, I live in Puerto Rico. And still I wish I could be outside running and dancing like a crazy person under the rain. But it looks like it’s going to get worse so I think I’ll just stay in and maybe watch some tv. As I am sitting here writing, there is a tv program called My Super Sweet Sixteen going on.
I’ve only seen pieces and bits but what I have seen has been enough to make my stomach revolt in disgust. How can there be parents who are stupid enough to spend so much money on the whims of such immature adolescent brats? The biatch got a Mercedez Benz valued in 40,000 dollars for her 16th birthday. What the fug is wrong with her parents? I bet that she can’t barely spell her name right and she will be out on the streets terrorizing pedestrians in a 40,000 dollar Mercedes. That’s just outrageously irrational and funny at the same time. I wonder if Daddy’s little princess would be able to survive on her own without her phone and credit cards for a week? It would be like taking the dope away from an addict. Now I don’t know about you, but I think that would be a great idea for a reality show, place these princesses in a real life situation that they would have to solve by themselves and let’s see how hilarity ensues.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Cruelty, bullying and suicide; 3 things we should never accept as natural
I have been skinny almost all my life, however different to what you might think, skinny does not mean pretty. I was never in style; I had bad teeth and a low self esteem. Intelligent, sure, accepted, maybe, popular; never. I used to hang out with the girls that I thought were my friends, what I never realized was that all they ever did was overlook me. They were always the pretty ones, I was their charity case.
I remember how much I always wanted to be like them. I never had my own style, I never had my own voice, I never had my own nothing, I was always looking up to have and to be like the girls I idolized cause when I looked at the mirror all I could see was someone I hated, someone I did not wanted to look like, someone I did not wanted to be. To that, I had to add the deformity of my hands when I reached 14, to which the doctor said, I just had more bone than skin. Throughout most of my teenage years, I was called a thousand names, among the most popular ones E.T. and Bugs Bunny. It was harsh not being seen for my grade point average or my talents, but by the flaws that I could not fix with a bit of makeup here and there.
People would like me to say that the only enemy I faced was myself, that I self sabotaged myself into having low self esteem and believing that I was ugly and inadequate, but reality is that was only part of the problem. The rest of the problem was encouraged by those around me who were cruel, their parents who encouraged their cruelty, my parents who accepted that kids are just kids and that middle school and high school are cruel places, my teachers who gave a rat’s ass about what happened in the hallways and I guess I can also blame the presidency or something else. But then I guess people would start saying that I want to blame the world for the evils of the world. And nobody wants that right?
We are so caught up into the conventions of the world that we forget to fight and support those who fight against what is unfair and psychologically unhealthy in the world. Maybe because it is easier to look the other way and think it will pass, that the kids will just grow up and forget all the scarring moments that made them cry for unnerving and never ending nights. That they will forge they were called names and they were insulted and bullied non-stop every day for years. I guess maybe because it is easier to do that than to take some action against the abuse your son or daughter might be facing. Because thinking that hard moments might make them stronger when the reality of the situation is that those moments only make it harder to get up in the morning every day and face the world. What better example of this than the statistics for teen suicides and yet, the world prefers to walk blind.
If we don’t engage into some real actions against this entire situation, only one thing will be for sure, the number of youngsters who will never see their dreams fulfilled will keep rising and also the number of grieving families. Why do we insist to ignore what is clearly spread before our eyes? Bullying, labeling, hazing and all the consequences this brings are not natural and they should not be a part of a child’s development. We should not encourage it and we should not ignore it either, we should take action,that is the only legitimate way to prove your children and those around you that you care and that you really love them.
I remember how much I always wanted to be like them. I never had my own style, I never had my own voice, I never had my own nothing, I was always looking up to have and to be like the girls I idolized cause when I looked at the mirror all I could see was someone I hated, someone I did not wanted to look like, someone I did not wanted to be. To that, I had to add the deformity of my hands when I reached 14, to which the doctor said, I just had more bone than skin. Throughout most of my teenage years, I was called a thousand names, among the most popular ones E.T. and Bugs Bunny. It was harsh not being seen for my grade point average or my talents, but by the flaws that I could not fix with a bit of makeup here and there.
People would like me to say that the only enemy I faced was myself, that I self sabotaged myself into having low self esteem and believing that I was ugly and inadequate, but reality is that was only part of the problem. The rest of the problem was encouraged by those around me who were cruel, their parents who encouraged their cruelty, my parents who accepted that kids are just kids and that middle school and high school are cruel places, my teachers who gave a rat’s ass about what happened in the hallways and I guess I can also blame the presidency or something else. But then I guess people would start saying that I want to blame the world for the evils of the world. And nobody wants that right?
We are so caught up into the conventions of the world that we forget to fight and support those who fight against what is unfair and psychologically unhealthy in the world. Maybe because it is easier to look the other way and think it will pass, that the kids will just grow up and forget all the scarring moments that made them cry for unnerving and never ending nights. That they will forge they were called names and they were insulted and bullied non-stop every day for years. I guess maybe because it is easier to do that than to take some action against the abuse your son or daughter might be facing. Because thinking that hard moments might make them stronger when the reality of the situation is that those moments only make it harder to get up in the morning every day and face the world. What better example of this than the statistics for teen suicides and yet, the world prefers to walk blind.
If we don’t engage into some real actions against this entire situation, only one thing will be for sure, the number of youngsters who will never see their dreams fulfilled will keep rising and also the number of grieving families. Why do we insist to ignore what is clearly spread before our eyes? Bullying, labeling, hazing and all the consequences this brings are not natural and they should not be a part of a child’s development. We should not encourage it and we should not ignore it either, we should take action,that is the only legitimate way to prove your children and those around you that you care and that you really love them.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Nunca me vere como ese maniqui/ I will never be that mannequin
****English version of the entry below the Spanish one. No special reason for the language order of the entries.****
Hace unos días, gracias a la bondad de una buena amiga, por fin pude visitar la tienda de ropa de la que todas mis amigas me habían hablado pero yo no había tenido la oportunidad de visitar. Al llegar a la tienda, parecía que había llegado al paraíso, ropa preciosa a precios aceptables para mi presupuesto además de piezas que no había visto en ninguna otra tienda de ropa en el área noroeste de la isla. En mi fascinación, mi amiga me siguió dando el tour por las distintas áreas de la tienda, en el transcurso de tour, mientras más nos adentrábamos mas mi fascinación iba desapareciendo por que comencé a fijarme en los displays de la ropa y en las proporciones de los maniquíes. Tengo que decir, que como latina, soy lo que se considera una flaca con curvas, ya que soy petite, busto pequeño y caderas anchas, y aun así, siendo realista, reconocí que no había manera que me sirvieran las piezas que exhibían maniquíes, ya que eran como si le hubieran puesto una capa de piel a un esqueleto anormalmente alto. Después de ver los displays y los maniquíes, yo, que peso 123 ¼ lbs, que soy 34, 26, 35, me sentí gorda e inadecuada. Fue cuando me puse a comentar con mi amiga que me di cuenta que había caído en la trampa de la mercadotecnia y de la industria de la moda, pues incluso mi amiga que si hubiera deseado pudiera haber sido modelo, me dijo lo mismo que me paso por la mente a mí, que los cuerpos de estos maniquíes estaban más lejos de la realidad que el cuerpo de Barbie, ya que aunque exageradas sus proporciones, al menos Barbie tiene curvas.
No podemos permitir que estos lugares dicten las pautas de imagen personal sobre lo que debe ser atractivo y lo que no lo es. Quedando me dentro de mi propio ejemplo, para yo poder verme como uno de esos maniquíes tendría que estar alrededor de las 100 libras, lo que con mi tipo de cuerpo y mi historial de salud significaría primero que nada un cuerpo en el que se me podrían apreciar todos y cada uno de mis huesos, caída de cabello, mareos, bajones de azúcar, reflujo gastro - esofágico crónico, calambres estomacales y bradicardia. Tomando eso en consideración soy lo suficientemente inteligente para decidir que estar enferma y débil jamás en la vida valdrá caber en un size small de Forever 21. Lo siento mucho, pero no lo vale.
A couple of days ago, thanks to a very good friend, I was finally able to visit a store that all my friends were talking about and I was dying to visit but up until that night never had the chance to see. Once I arrived to the store, it felt like I had arrived in paradise, beautiful clothes at acceptable prices for my budget plus they had clothes I had never seen in any other store in the western area of the island. In my fascination, my friend kept leading the tour around the store, the more my fascination started to dwindle because I started to fixate my attention in the displays and the body proportions of the mannequins. Now, I have to say that as a Latina I am what is considered “skinny with curves” because I am petite, small breasts and wide hips, and even with those proportions, being realistic I recognized there was no way any of those pieces in display would fit my body because it looked as if an abnormally tall skeleton with a thin layer of skin was playing dress up. After taking a close look to the displays and the mannequins, me, the girl who weights123 ¼ pounds, with measurements of 34,26,35 felt fat and inadequate. It was when I started to talk about it with my friend that I realized I had turned into another victim of the fashion industry, because even my friend, that if she wanted she could have been a model, told me the same thing that went through my mind; the bodies of these mannequins were even farther from reality than Barbie’s body. Even though Barbie’s body is very unreal, at least she has curves.
We cannot allow these places to define the canon of self image, what is attractive and what is not. Staying within the boundaries of my own example, in order for me to look like one of those mannequins I would have to weigh 100 pounds. Therefore, given my body type and my medical history that would mean having a body in which you could easily see each and every one of my bones, hair loss, dizziness, hypoglycemic episodes, erosive GERT, stomach cramps and bradycardia. Taking those factors into consideration I believe I am intelligent enough to know that all of these is not worth fitting into a size small dress from Forever 21. I’m sorry, but it is just not worth it.
Hace unos días, gracias a la bondad de una buena amiga, por fin pude visitar la tienda de ropa de la que todas mis amigas me habían hablado pero yo no había tenido la oportunidad de visitar. Al llegar a la tienda, parecía que había llegado al paraíso, ropa preciosa a precios aceptables para mi presupuesto además de piezas que no había visto en ninguna otra tienda de ropa en el área noroeste de la isla. En mi fascinación, mi amiga me siguió dando el tour por las distintas áreas de la tienda, en el transcurso de tour, mientras más nos adentrábamos mas mi fascinación iba desapareciendo por que comencé a fijarme en los displays de la ropa y en las proporciones de los maniquíes. Tengo que decir, que como latina, soy lo que se considera una flaca con curvas, ya que soy petite, busto pequeño y caderas anchas, y aun así, siendo realista, reconocí que no había manera que me sirvieran las piezas que exhibían maniquíes, ya que eran como si le hubieran puesto una capa de piel a un esqueleto anormalmente alto. Después de ver los displays y los maniquíes, yo, que peso 123 ¼ lbs, que soy 34, 26, 35, me sentí gorda e inadecuada. Fue cuando me puse a comentar con mi amiga que me di cuenta que había caído en la trampa de la mercadotecnia y de la industria de la moda, pues incluso mi amiga que si hubiera deseado pudiera haber sido modelo, me dijo lo mismo que me paso por la mente a mí, que los cuerpos de estos maniquíes estaban más lejos de la realidad que el cuerpo de Barbie, ya que aunque exageradas sus proporciones, al menos Barbie tiene curvas.
No podemos permitir que estos lugares dicten las pautas de imagen personal sobre lo que debe ser atractivo y lo que no lo es. Quedando me dentro de mi propio ejemplo, para yo poder verme como uno de esos maniquíes tendría que estar alrededor de las 100 libras, lo que con mi tipo de cuerpo y mi historial de salud significaría primero que nada un cuerpo en el que se me podrían apreciar todos y cada uno de mis huesos, caída de cabello, mareos, bajones de azúcar, reflujo gastro - esofágico crónico, calambres estomacales y bradicardia. Tomando eso en consideración soy lo suficientemente inteligente para decidir que estar enferma y débil jamás en la vida valdrá caber en un size small de Forever 21. Lo siento mucho, pero no lo vale.
A couple of days ago, thanks to a very good friend, I was finally able to visit a store that all my friends were talking about and I was dying to visit but up until that night never had the chance to see. Once I arrived to the store, it felt like I had arrived in paradise, beautiful clothes at acceptable prices for my budget plus they had clothes I had never seen in any other store in the western area of the island. In my fascination, my friend kept leading the tour around the store, the more my fascination started to dwindle because I started to fixate my attention in the displays and the body proportions of the mannequins. Now, I have to say that as a Latina I am what is considered “skinny with curves” because I am petite, small breasts and wide hips, and even with those proportions, being realistic I recognized there was no way any of those pieces in display would fit my body because it looked as if an abnormally tall skeleton with a thin layer of skin was playing dress up. After taking a close look to the displays and the mannequins, me, the girl who weights123 ¼ pounds, with measurements of 34,26,35 felt fat and inadequate. It was when I started to talk about it with my friend that I realized I had turned into another victim of the fashion industry, because even my friend, that if she wanted she could have been a model, told me the same thing that went through my mind; the bodies of these mannequins were even farther from reality than Barbie’s body. Even though Barbie’s body is very unreal, at least she has curves.
We cannot allow these places to define the canon of self image, what is attractive and what is not. Staying within the boundaries of my own example, in order for me to look like one of those mannequins I would have to weigh 100 pounds. Therefore, given my body type and my medical history that would mean having a body in which you could easily see each and every one of my bones, hair loss, dizziness, hypoglycemic episodes, erosive GERT, stomach cramps and bradycardia. Taking those factors into consideration I believe I am intelligent enough to know that all of these is not worth fitting into a size small dress from Forever 21. I’m sorry, but it is just not worth it.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
They fight like cats and dogs
I’ve always had a problem with the saying, “they fight like cats and dogs”. Why you might ask. Well, the answer is simple; I know cats and dogs that get along just fine. I know that the most common argument to refute this would be “but that’s not the rule, it is the exception” and I kind of have a problem with that too. As humans living in a pre designed society by other humans, we define what the rule is and what is the exception, therefore you can’t tell me that a cat and a dog are natural enemies when there is living breathing proof that they are not. These two cute little animals are not born hating each other, they learn to, and that nobody can claim to be an innate instinct. But the main point of this writing is not to talk about the differences between cats and dogs these are just mere reflections of the real problem between the human species that populates the Earth, and the problem is tolerance.
I am completely against tolerance. I think tolerance is the worst thing ever invented by some hateful human being that was not able to conceive love out of his/her heart toward his/her neighbor. For me, tolerance is hate in a Barbie doll Halloween costume, it may look perfect and appealing on the outside but it is hollow on the inside and at the end of the night, it was just a disguise. Tolerance is a “special pass” that allows you not to deal with your problem the right way as long as you avoid it by leaving it alone, as a consequence tolerance implies that you never even try to understand and love that which you don’t give yourself a chance to know and you have been taught to hate. Being tolerant means to “not reject”, it does not mean that you accept and love whatever the subject in question is. Let’s look at it like this, you tolerate vegetables and so you don’t torch the veggies section at the supermarket, but that does not mean you like them, and even if you have to eat them, you will not enjoy them, in short, you still hate them even when you don’t disappear them from the face of the Earth. At least in my dictionary the most accurate synonym for tolerance is hypocrisy, it will never be a synonym of respect, it will never be a synonym of acceptance and more importantly it will never be a synonym of love. Therefore tolerance is not the solution, education and love will always be.
I am completely against tolerance. I think tolerance is the worst thing ever invented by some hateful human being that was not able to conceive love out of his/her heart toward his/her neighbor. For me, tolerance is hate in a Barbie doll Halloween costume, it may look perfect and appealing on the outside but it is hollow on the inside and at the end of the night, it was just a disguise. Tolerance is a “special pass” that allows you not to deal with your problem the right way as long as you avoid it by leaving it alone, as a consequence tolerance implies that you never even try to understand and love that which you don’t give yourself a chance to know and you have been taught to hate. Being tolerant means to “not reject”, it does not mean that you accept and love whatever the subject in question is. Let’s look at it like this, you tolerate vegetables and so you don’t torch the veggies section at the supermarket, but that does not mean you like them, and even if you have to eat them, you will not enjoy them, in short, you still hate them even when you don’t disappear them from the face of the Earth. At least in my dictionary the most accurate synonym for tolerance is hypocrisy, it will never be a synonym of respect, it will never be a synonym of acceptance and more importantly it will never be a synonym of love. Therefore tolerance is not the solution, education and love will always be.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Inspiration
I’m sure that at some point in history somebody must have said “it is inspiration what moves the world.” Well, even if they haven’t I think it to be utterly truthful. It is at those moments in which we feel invincible and blessed by inspiration that the most beautiful things come to life. If this was not the truth there would be no space in the world for artists, sculptures, painters and writers. We need inspiration. We need the visit of that candid muse that lights the bulb in our heads and with her soft whisper encourages us to create. Could we survive in a world without inspiration? I don’t think so. Without it, we would just be boring and definitely bored. But we must never forget that inspiration is a two and sometimes a three way street. It is because of the offspring of our inspiration that others get inspired and create their own versions of reality and beauty and art. Personally I love to write, however I don’t feel encouraged to do it by the world around. I can spend days writing poems and short stories and small editorials/reflections, and afterward go into a down ward spiral of hating the world and the word and not looking to my writing utensils for weeks and sometimes months. I guess deep down inspiration alone is never enough, we need to feel that we have inspired someone else in order for our creation to be worth the time and effort we dedicated into it. Inspiring other becomes the main focus of our own inspiration. Funny huh? But that’s just me.
There is another thing that I am almost sure of, if people shared inspiration more often, the world would be a better place to live, people would be happier and it would be easier to find a place in the world, and be happy in it.
There is another thing that I am almost sure of, if people shared inspiration more often, the world would be a better place to live, people would be happier and it would be easier to find a place in the world, and be happy in it.
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