Checklist before leaving for Thanksgiving Break:
1. Turn in lab report. (Check!)
2. Turn in reading response. (Check!)
3. Clean room. (Check!)
4. Pack. (Check!...sort of)
5. Say good-bye to Mishka and the Hottest Suitemates (Check!)
6. TURN EIGHTEEN! (CHECKCHECKCHECK!)
I had an AMAZING birthday! My parents came up and gave me like a thousand cupcakes to distribute to my friends and MPA classmates. I felt like a cupcake fairy all day! "Here...have one! They're yummy! They make everything better!" My mom makes a MEAN cupcake! ;)
I went to dinner tonight with my roommate and mom, we hung out in a hotel room with my dad and watched Pirates of the Caribbean, then us girls went to the mall and chilled for a while, and THEN I came back and walked around the cold (but very, VERY beautiful) Interlochen campus before coming back and helping clean up the lobby...fun times!
The Present Log for today: iTunes gift card and AmEx gift card (from my parents), colored pencils (from my awesomealistic roommate), Betsey Johnson necklace and matching bracelet (from my mom), Michael Jackson DVD (also from my mom).
Best moments of today: Mr. Nadji (Mr. Physics Teacher) giving me an animal cracker with a candle on top of it so I could make a birthday wish; entire MPA major singing happy birthday to me; dude I have a crush on literally RUNNING to me to give me a hug and wish me happy birthday; talking to Dad about the patheticness of sequels; CUPCAKES; huggles and birthday wishes from my best friends; collecting soooo much stolen dialogue; SEEING MY PARENTS; hanging out in the library with Mishka, Gus, and Ellie.
NANO UPDATE
Well, NaNo is going splendidly crappily. My plot changed (AGAIN), and between lovely college apps and homework it's looking very unlikely I will get 50,000 words by December. That said I will NOT give up on my novel, I love it. I just don't think I am going to win the NaNo this year. Maybe next year, I'll be able to do it since I'll already be IN college and won't have to apply anywhere.
I'll have a better post next time, I swear.
STOLEN DIALOGUE:
"I want my boyfriend to look like Hugh Jackman!"
Person one: Shall we count the number of times you used the F-word in that sentence?
Person two: No, Avery, we shall not.
Person one: No one's told you about Holiday Dinner?
Person two: No...
Person one: You are sadly uninformed.
Person one: Can you come over?
Person two: Yeah.
Person one: I'm warning you, I just had a Chem test. I'm going to be annoyed. I'm going to be an asshole.
Person two: I can be there in ten minutes.
Person one (quoting a comedian): Cocker poodle: Half poodle, half cocker spaniel, all bad idea.
Person two: Michael Jackson Fanfiction: Half Michael Jackson, half fanfiction, all bad idea.
Person three: Wait, there's MICHAEL JACKSON fanfiction? Isn't that blasphemy?
"Speaking of gay, are you free tonight? Wait, that came out wrong..."
Person one: One day, you need to politely tell your parents to bugger off.
Person two: I can't even tell YOU to bugger off, how can I tell that to my parents?
Person one: I'm just persuasive.
Person one: I'm going to be blunt...no, I'm not.
Person two: Oh, come on, be blunt, I'm used to it.
Person one: You are not! When am I blunt?
Person two: When are you NOT blunt?
Person one: Give me concrete examples!
Person two: "Direct me to the ass which needs kicking..."
Person one: That wasn't blunt.
Person two: "Tell your parents to bugger off..."
Person one: Okay, that WAS blunt.
Person one: He is as queer as a three-dollar bill.
Person two: I had a dream once that those existed!
Person one: Muchos nachos, muchacha! (Much nachos, woman!)
Person two: I should put you on speaker, so Liz can hear you speaking Spanish.
Person three: Oh, she speaks Spanish?
Person two: In the very loosest sense.
Person one: He was very confused about his sexuality last year.
Person two: That, and he wanted a snog.
Person one: So I was talking to Connor--
Person two: Ooh, he's a hunksicle!
Person one: What? No! He's, like, a cross between a teddy bear and an older brother!
Person two: No, he's a hunksicle!
Person one: No! A hunksicle would indicate that he's very good-looking and very cold!
Person two: He IS good-looking!
Person one: But he's warm! I hugged him earlier!
Person two: Oooooh!
Person one: Are you going to do this with every guy I mention?
Person two: Yes!
Person one: Gustavo! [name of gay dude]
Person two: [shuts up]
"There are more gay dudes here than pencil sharpeners!"
Person one: So I got called down to the desk and the counselor was like, "Your mom called, she said to make sure you work on your college applications today." SHOOT ME NOW.
Person two: Dear God in heaven...your mother needs a freaking house in Jamaica, with a lifetime supply of martinis...and maybe some Valium.
Person one: Agreed! WHYYYYY? Why does she do this to me?
Person two: Because she is in desperate need of either relaxation or a kick in the arse.
Person one. Or both.
Person two: That too.
Person one: I know I'm reasonably smart, but whenever I'm around you guys or Harry I feel exponentially less intelligent.
Person two: Was that a compliment?
Person three: Yeah, she was saying we're smart!
Person one: Uh, you guys ARE smart.
Person three: I don't know...after those auditions today, I feel like those actors think I'm the dumbest motherf**ker that ever lived!
NEXT UP: Thanksgiving Break! There WILL be a series post on this...I SWEAR. I don't know exactly how or what yet, but it WILL happen.
Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
If you like it then you should've...well...you know
With NaNo at a standstill (CURSE YOU, COLLEGE APPS) and a few people threatening to hang me upside-down by the laces of my saddle shoes in Fine Arts if I do ONE MORE POST concerning he-whom-I-allegedly-worship (I'll give you a hint: it's the dude who sings "Thriller"), I've decided to be happily controversial for one post (no, this has nothing to do with The Godfather, thankyouverymuch).
When I was younger, I attended the annual Daddy-Daughter Dances in my hometown at our local ballroom. Usually these were held on or around Valentine's Day, and were marketed mainly towards girls younger than ten (except being me, I was eleven years old the last time I went to one, but whatever). They played the dorkiest music imaginable--and I'm not talking Britney Spears dorky, I'm talking chicken-dance dorky--served food that, more often than not, I refused to eat, and usually ended with worn-out dads carrying sleepy daughters to the car after three or four hours of dancing, squealing, and playing varied games of hide-and-seek in the massive ballroom (hey, it SEEMED massive to a six-year-old).
I can't even remember how many of these I went to with my dad. I remember this was a HUGE deal to me. Since I was homeschooled until I was fifteen, I didn't have school Valentine's Day parties, exchange cards with friends (not often, anyway), or really do much on V-Day besides eat chocolate and go to these dances with my dad. Added to this I LOVE spending time with my parents (yes, STILL) and this was just a really, extra-special way for me to bond with my dad.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like this was the ONLY time I spent with him. We took Tae Kwon Do classes together, we went to the park, we trick-or-treated--hell, we even played Barbies (against his better judgment, he says) until I went off to boarding school. But there's something magical for a little girl about dressing up and going somewhere special, where she feels like a guest of honor, and that's just how these dances made me feel. I got to wear pretty dresses, have Mom do my hair, dance with my dad--which we did at home, too, but here it was on a proper dance floor so it was even MORE special--and go to a fancy ballroom, and for a little girl, especially a girly-girl like me, this was one hell of a treat.
Just recently I heard about a different kind of daddy-daughter dance that made me roll on the floor laughing, and then stop and do some serious thinking.
Two words: Purity ball.
I'm not kidding, there is actually a thing called the Father-Daughter Purity Ball, and it actually is held, from what I can tell, annually. That means EVERY YEAR, dads take their daughters to a formal dance--daughters ranging in age from preschool to college-age--and sign a pledge swearing to protect their daughters' "purity" (a.k.a., make sure they don't have sex or do anything else "improper") until the daughters are married. But wait, there's more: Often the dads bestow upon their daughters a piece of jewelry, usually a ring or a charm necklace, that symbolizes the daughters' promise not to have premarital sex.
Wow.
I will say, right now, that I have nothing against waiting for marriage. I have nothing against father-daughter bonding (and, if you think I do, I suggest you go back and read the beginning of the post). I have nothing against celebrating your beliefs. I am not saying "Purity balls suck and whoever participates in them deserves to be laughed at, tarred and feathered!"
What I am saying is that if my dad took me to a dance when I was four years old, gave me a ring, and said, "I'm going to protect your virginity until you're married," I would've looked at him and said, "Whaaaat?"
A key point of these dances is that if a girl's dad cares about her and shows her that, she's going to feel more valued and not feel the need to go out and screw anything that walks. Well, great! That's good. I agree with that. Showing your daughter that you value her is a good thing. Encouraging your daughter to wait to have sex is a good thing. Bonding with your daughter is a good thing. I definitely understand that, I definitely agree with all of that.
What I can't get my head around, though, is why these dances don't teach girls to value and protect themselves, instead of relying on their fathers to do everything for them.
One of the most important things my parents taught me was that it's important to know how to think for yourself. Sounds like a big fat DUH, right? Yeah, that's what I thought...until I started meeting kids my age who parroted their parents' beliefs as if they were their own, saying things about politicians, religion, and teachers that I KNEW they hadn't come up with themselves.
When I discussed this with my mom, I brought up the purity balls and we briefly argued about whether they were okay or not. I said that I didn't think they were completely ridiculous, and she disagreed. I said, "Do you think I'm wrong about what I said about it being a good thing to encourage your daughter to value herself, wait for sex, and bond with her parents? Because you know, that's what you guys did for me, and look how well it worked!" (No, that was NOT sucking up, I swear!)
When I told her that, my mom said, "Oh well, now that you put it that way--I think the best thing a parent can do for their child is to help them understand they have worth. I also think it is important for parents to teach their children to be able to think for themselves, but still be able to understand the consequences involved with decisions."
BAM. Score one for Mom.
I was taught to think for myself. I was not taken to a formal dance in kindergarten, given a ring, and made to look on while my dad signed a pledge to keep me a virgin until my wedding night. I was not told that I would only be a good girl if I waited for marriage. Instead of being told, "Regardless of how you feel for someone, you can NEVER have sex until you're married," I was told, "Wait to do this until you are emotionally and mentally ready," and that's exactly what I've done.
Nobody misunderstand me -- I don't think purity rings are ridiculous (well, in some cases they are...but that's more dependent on the person wearing one than on the ring itself). I don't think that purity balls should be against the law (although I know plenty of people who do). I don't think it's wrong for a dad to want to protect his daughter (if I did, I would be in pretty big trouble right about now). And I don't think it's wrong to show that you believe in something (hence my assertion that purity rings and purity balls are NOT the root of all sexism).
I do think that people have the right to choose. Given the right to choose, I think I made the right choice--and no one had to give me a ring, no one had to take me to a ball, no one had to sign a pledge on my behalf. And hey, has anyone else heard the alarming statistics that kids who are talked into virginity pledges are actually MORE likely to get pregnant or get icky STDs, because they're LESS likely to be prepared if (or when) they actually break that pledge? Hmm...anyone else think that's a bad sign?
When it comes to this kind of thing, I always think of something I heard last year at a Unitarian church: "Don't worry, kids...here, there's no preaching, just teaching."
STOLEN DIALOGUE:
"I won over your mother by discussing glowing animals?"
Person one: Do you know what Pansexual means?
Person two: Yeah, that's when you do it in the kitchen.
Person one: Why did you just throw a bat down my bra?
Person two: I was playing 'boobsketball!'
Person one: I have to take an online Physics quiz.
Person two: What's the topic?
Person one: Newton's Laws, light, and motion.
Person two: I know all about Newton...two sleeves of Newtons is a serving size. Hmm...what do we know about light? We need it on in the bathroom at night so we don't stub our toes. And let's think about what we know about motion--it causes sickness! There, I just did your homework for you!
Person one: I'm just obsessed with serial killers right now!
Person two: Well NOW I feel safe having you as a roommate...
"I don't know what to do...HE WANTS ME TO SNORT A PIXY STICK!"
Person one: Being in MPA block just gives me access to the weirdest conversations in the world...
Person two: I feel like you haven't polled everyone in the world.
"I don't want to look like Wolverine!"
Person one: I think I just needed to veg out today. Tomorrow I'll actually get something done.
Person two: I would at least get started on something today. Otherwise, you will find a reason not to do anything tomorrow. I know that is how I am. I have to do at least something, anything, when I am overwhelmed with work. Maybe just take a good long look at the assignment.
Person two: I looked at it. I thought about doing it. Then I went and watched Pirates of the Caribbean.
Person one: What do you want for your birthday?
Person two [sees video online]: Ooh...Michael Jackson!
Person one: You want Michael Jackson for your birthday?
Person two [sarcastic]: Yeah, go and find his corpse and bring it back to me.
Person one: Well, I think it's probably at Neverland Ranch...
Person one: Wow...you're good with that waffle-maker! I mean, I already knew you could cook, but...
Person two: Well, last year I had a waffle for breakfast every day.
Person one: Oh, so you've perfected your waffle-making technique.
Person two [British accent]: I've got it down to a bloody science!
Person one: When you get home, we're gonna party!
Person two: Will it involve ecstasy, clowns, and balloon animals?
Person one: Uh, no, I think we'll stay away from those things.
"When I turn eighteen, the first thing I'm going to do will be to rush to a store, buy a package of cigarettes, and yell 'IN YOUR FACE' to the cashier...and then I'm going to throw them in the trash on the way home because I don't smoke and they're not allowed on campus."
DRAMATIC IRONY (sort of): I just looked back at a past post, which discussed ideas for my thesis. In this post I said, "I want to make a period piece or something involving ghosts." The irony is that my film is neither a period piece nor involves ghosts. Epic fail? I hope not...
When I was younger, I attended the annual Daddy-Daughter Dances in my hometown at our local ballroom. Usually these were held on or around Valentine's Day, and were marketed mainly towards girls younger than ten (except being me, I was eleven years old the last time I went to one, but whatever). They played the dorkiest music imaginable--and I'm not talking Britney Spears dorky, I'm talking chicken-dance dorky--served food that, more often than not, I refused to eat, and usually ended with worn-out dads carrying sleepy daughters to the car after three or four hours of dancing, squealing, and playing varied games of hide-and-seek in the massive ballroom (hey, it SEEMED massive to a six-year-old).
I can't even remember how many of these I went to with my dad. I remember this was a HUGE deal to me. Since I was homeschooled until I was fifteen, I didn't have school Valentine's Day parties, exchange cards with friends (not often, anyway), or really do much on V-Day besides eat chocolate and go to these dances with my dad. Added to this I LOVE spending time with my parents (yes, STILL) and this was just a really, extra-special way for me to bond with my dad.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like this was the ONLY time I spent with him. We took Tae Kwon Do classes together, we went to the park, we trick-or-treated--hell, we even played Barbies (against his better judgment, he says) until I went off to boarding school. But there's something magical for a little girl about dressing up and going somewhere special, where she feels like a guest of honor, and that's just how these dances made me feel. I got to wear pretty dresses, have Mom do my hair, dance with my dad--which we did at home, too, but here it was on a proper dance floor so it was even MORE special--and go to a fancy ballroom, and for a little girl, especially a girly-girl like me, this was one hell of a treat.
Just recently I heard about a different kind of daddy-daughter dance that made me roll on the floor laughing, and then stop and do some serious thinking.
Two words: Purity ball.
I'm not kidding, there is actually a thing called the Father-Daughter Purity Ball, and it actually is held, from what I can tell, annually. That means EVERY YEAR, dads take their daughters to a formal dance--daughters ranging in age from preschool to college-age--and sign a pledge swearing to protect their daughters' "purity" (a.k.a., make sure they don't have sex or do anything else "improper") until the daughters are married. But wait, there's more: Often the dads bestow upon their daughters a piece of jewelry, usually a ring or a charm necklace, that symbolizes the daughters' promise not to have premarital sex.
Wow.
I will say, right now, that I have nothing against waiting for marriage. I have nothing against father-daughter bonding (and, if you think I do, I suggest you go back and read the beginning of the post). I have nothing against celebrating your beliefs. I am not saying "Purity balls suck and whoever participates in them deserves to be laughed at, tarred and feathered!"
What I am saying is that if my dad took me to a dance when I was four years old, gave me a ring, and said, "I'm going to protect your virginity until you're married," I would've looked at him and said, "Whaaaat?"
A key point of these dances is that if a girl's dad cares about her and shows her that, she's going to feel more valued and not feel the need to go out and screw anything that walks. Well, great! That's good. I agree with that. Showing your daughter that you value her is a good thing. Encouraging your daughter to wait to have sex is a good thing. Bonding with your daughter is a good thing. I definitely understand that, I definitely agree with all of that.
What I can't get my head around, though, is why these dances don't teach girls to value and protect themselves, instead of relying on their fathers to do everything for them.
One of the most important things my parents taught me was that it's important to know how to think for yourself. Sounds like a big fat DUH, right? Yeah, that's what I thought...until I started meeting kids my age who parroted their parents' beliefs as if they were their own, saying things about politicians, religion, and teachers that I KNEW they hadn't come up with themselves.
When I discussed this with my mom, I brought up the purity balls and we briefly argued about whether they were okay or not. I said that I didn't think they were completely ridiculous, and she disagreed. I said, "Do you think I'm wrong about what I said about it being a good thing to encourage your daughter to value herself, wait for sex, and bond with her parents? Because you know, that's what you guys did for me, and look how well it worked!" (No, that was NOT sucking up, I swear!)
When I told her that, my mom said, "Oh well, now that you put it that way--I think the best thing a parent can do for their child is to help them understand they have worth. I also think it is important for parents to teach their children to be able to think for themselves, but still be able to understand the consequences involved with decisions."
BAM. Score one for Mom.
I was taught to think for myself. I was not taken to a formal dance in kindergarten, given a ring, and made to look on while my dad signed a pledge to keep me a virgin until my wedding night. I was not told that I would only be a good girl if I waited for marriage. Instead of being told, "Regardless of how you feel for someone, you can NEVER have sex until you're married," I was told, "Wait to do this until you are emotionally and mentally ready," and that's exactly what I've done.
Nobody misunderstand me -- I don't think purity rings are ridiculous (well, in some cases they are...but that's more dependent on the person wearing one than on the ring itself). I don't think that purity balls should be against the law (although I know plenty of people who do). I don't think it's wrong for a dad to want to protect his daughter (if I did, I would be in pretty big trouble right about now). And I don't think it's wrong to show that you believe in something (hence my assertion that purity rings and purity balls are NOT the root of all sexism).
I do think that people have the right to choose. Given the right to choose, I think I made the right choice--and no one had to give me a ring, no one had to take me to a ball, no one had to sign a pledge on my behalf. And hey, has anyone else heard the alarming statistics that kids who are talked into virginity pledges are actually MORE likely to get pregnant or get icky STDs, because they're LESS likely to be prepared if (or when) they actually break that pledge? Hmm...anyone else think that's a bad sign?
When it comes to this kind of thing, I always think of something I heard last year at a Unitarian church: "Don't worry, kids...here, there's no preaching, just teaching."
STOLEN DIALOGUE:
"I won over your mother by discussing glowing animals?"
Person one: Do you know what Pansexual means?
Person two: Yeah, that's when you do it in the kitchen.
Person one: Why did you just throw a bat down my bra?
Person two: I was playing 'boobsketball!'
Person one: I have to take an online Physics quiz.
Person two: What's the topic?
Person one: Newton's Laws, light, and motion.
Person two: I know all about Newton...two sleeves of Newtons is a serving size. Hmm...what do we know about light? We need it on in the bathroom at night so we don't stub our toes. And let's think about what we know about motion--it causes sickness! There, I just did your homework for you!
Person one: I'm just obsessed with serial killers right now!
Person two: Well NOW I feel safe having you as a roommate...
"I don't know what to do...HE WANTS ME TO SNORT A PIXY STICK!"
Person one: Being in MPA block just gives me access to the weirdest conversations in the world...
Person two: I feel like you haven't polled everyone in the world.
"I don't want to look like Wolverine!"
Person one: I think I just needed to veg out today. Tomorrow I'll actually get something done.
Person two: I would at least get started on something today. Otherwise, you will find a reason not to do anything tomorrow. I know that is how I am. I have to do at least something, anything, when I am overwhelmed with work. Maybe just take a good long look at the assignment.
Person two: I looked at it. I thought about doing it. Then I went and watched Pirates of the Caribbean.
Person one: What do you want for your birthday?
Person two [sees video online]: Ooh...Michael Jackson!
Person one: You want Michael Jackson for your birthday?
Person two [sarcastic]: Yeah, go and find his corpse and bring it back to me.
Person one: Well, I think it's probably at Neverland Ranch...
Person one: Wow...you're good with that waffle-maker! I mean, I already knew you could cook, but...
Person two: Well, last year I had a waffle for breakfast every day.
Person one: Oh, so you've perfected your waffle-making technique.
Person two [British accent]: I've got it down to a bloody science!
Person one: When you get home, we're gonna party!
Person two: Will it involve ecstasy, clowns, and balloon animals?
Person one: Uh, no, I think we'll stay away from those things.
"When I turn eighteen, the first thing I'm going to do will be to rush to a store, buy a package of cigarettes, and yell 'IN YOUR FACE' to the cashier...and then I'm going to throw them in the trash on the way home because I don't smoke and they're not allowed on campus."
DRAMATIC IRONY (sort of): I just looked back at a past post, which discussed ideas for my thesis. In this post I said, "I want to make a period piece or something involving ghosts." The irony is that my film is neither a period piece nor involves ghosts. Epic fail? I hope not...
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