Mrs. John Smith?

I should be sleeping now, since I do have work in the morning at 10, but I wanted to get this out of my head.

I've been thinking about this off and on for a while now. I just haven't come to a conclusion.

A few feminists I know don't believe in marriage. And with those who do, many don't believe in taking their husband's last name. As for me... I'm still debating. When I was younger, I used to combine my first name and my crush's last name together to see how they sound. I also used to do that with my boyfriends. But as I've gotten older, I began to wonder why I should be taking my husband's name.

Back in older times, most people married for money and to create offspring. Obviously, that has changed (in the U.S. for the most part, anyway). But during those times, the wife was seen as "property" of the man, and that I do not approve of. I know times have changed, but why do women still take the name of the man? Because it's tradition? This may be true, but I really don't agree with this tradition, since it is the tradition of becoming someone's property. During a discussion with one of my friends on this subject, he said that it isn't about being property, but rather anouncing and showing that you've made a special bond with someone. I suppose that could be true, but that's what the marriage is about in the first place. And if you have a ring, that's also the "anouncement" of your bond with someone.

I've been telling people that I refuse to take my husband's name because I don't want to be seen as property, or as Mrs. John Smith. I am my own person, so don't I deserve my own name? Sure, I've thought of hyphenating. I actually think that's a wonderful idea, as do many other people I know. The only problem with that is my last name is very very very hard to hyphenate with. (I would post it, but I prefer not.) And then I thought I could do what my mother did. She kept her last name, but it's now her middle name with my father's last name. But, in a sense, that's awkward for me as well because, again, my last name is very odd. And it's not one of those foreign names. It's an English word, so it would look weird as my middle name. And also, I would still appear as Mrs. John Smith, or Mrs. Sarah Smith (if using my actual first name). But instead, it would be Mrs. Sarah Jones Smith (again, still not using my real name). Regardless, not many people ask to know your middle name, and therefore, keeping your last name as your middle name would defeat the purpose of keeping your name in general. (I think I said the word "name" a bagillion times in that last sentence alone.)

And then there's the issue of marriage in general. So many people get married and divorced several times, and although I'm happy that people actually have that liberty, and are gaining the strength to leave their significant other if they're not happy, I don't really like the idea of getting married and then having to get divorced. I've seen so many relationships fail, so what's the point anymore? People live together all the time without getting married. (In fact, my neighbor does it!) The only point of marriage is the extra benefits you get. But what happens if you want to get divorced? All your benefits go down the drain, and you may end up losing a lot of money in the process, and therefore your ability to keep a roof over your head. Now, I'm not that materialistic at all, but I get very nervous when I can't support myself, or even the prospect of losing my job and/or money to not support myself. I don't want one mistake messing it up.

People get married after being together for a few months, and then some wait a couple years. But how can you know you want to spend the rest of your life with that person after a few months? Or even years? People break up after 5 or 10 years, and then what? Who's to say a relationship really can last your entire life? And if it does, are you truly happy? I've seen very few that are. I used to think my parents were really happy together, but after growing up and really observing them, I've come to the conclusion that my dad doesn't treat my mother as well as he should, but my mom is too in love with him to leave him, or even think about leaving him. Not to mention she has three children which she loves with all her heart, and I know she would hate to leave us. I promised myself a whitle back that I would never, ever, ever end up with someone like my dad. And then I promised myself that I would never BECOME my dad, and I'm working very hard on that because we have the same temper, and it scares me.

Anyway, I'm going off topic. The point is, should I believe in marriage? Should I actually get married? And if I do, should I keep my last name? Or somehow combine my husband's name with my own?

I guess I should just wait till the time comes.

Conformity, Across the Universe, and Glue

I'm trying to start this organization on my campus called SHADOW (Students Helping to Abate the Destruction Of Women). A big topic I'll be covering is the media and how it hurts people, especially women. I feel very strongly about that particular issue and for a long time have faught against the image the media puts out for women. I also have rebelled against society and refused to conform to meny trends. For example, I do not purposely go tanning, I have not bought and will not buy Ugg Boots, I don't get regular manicures and don't want to, and I'm not begging my daddy for hot red convertable and a pink $50000000 phone/sidekick/whothehellevenknows.

But there are a few problems.

The other day, I was sitting in the car with  my friend Sam talking about how I feel when it comes to this subject. I also told her that part of me wishes I could have remined ignorant and naive about the way society treats people, especially women, because in all honesty, ignorance is bliss. I wouldn't feel like I'm living on a planet that is being destroyed by us while destroying ourselves in the process. I also said that I wish I could just conform because I would probably be a lot happier.

So, in response to that, she replied, "So just conform."

I just about flipped two shits.

I understand that this may be a little hypocritical, but I really was angry at her for saying that. I explained to her that I can't just do that because of the knowledge I have of our world, and how I would probably hate myself more for indulging in it.

And then she said, "There's nothing wrong with conformity."

And then I DID flip two shits.

Yes, there is something wrong with conformity. There's a lot of things wrong with conformity. The media destructs us to the point of women (and some men) becoming anorexic and bulemic, some people cutting and doing other self-destructive actions because they feel like they'll never fit in or they're not doing enough to be liked (I know because I used to be one of them). Some are afraid to be themselves because they're so caught up in what the media tells them to be, and they listen. Conformity restricts people from being themselves and being originial. Conformity hurts people because they want to be the one thing that the media says is beautiful or what is right, and when they're not, they hate themselves for it.

Conformity is NOT a beautiful thing. Originality is. You love someone for their perfections and their flaws, and if the person you love if like everyone else, how can you really love them?

It's so frustrating. No offence to my friend Sam (who, by the way, is the type of girl that constantly wears heels, sees nothing wrong with slutty pictures of girls, and lets her boyfriend tell her how much weight she should lose), but it's people like her that make me feel like my cause is impossible. It makes me not want to fight for it, because what's the point if no one will listen?

I feel like that girl, Lucy, in Across the Universe, when she's in the phone booth during the riot and she's yelling at her mom on the phone, screaming that no one's listening. She does so much, but you can't make people care. And if the majority of the population doesn't care, what's the point?

I just hate what our world has become, what we as the human race have become. We have so much potential, and with it, instead of making things better, we destroy them. We're destroying our Earth, and we're destroying ourselves. And the worst part? The majority of us don't care because we're too caught up in our own little perfect idea of what the world is really like. People's eyes need to be opened, but I feel as if they're all glued shut.

Love is the act of giving yourself to someone completely.

Recently, someone extremely intelligent told me that love is not an emotion. It is not a feeling or the way you look at someone. But rather, love is an action. It's the act of giving yourself to someone completely.

After I heard that statement, a lot of things seemed to make sense for me. I've come to the conclusion that I am afraid of love.

For a bit, before I had been hurt by anyone before, I had been completely willing to fall in love. I think I assumed that if I fell in love with them, they would fall in love with me. And then I was hurt several times, and made the decision that I would not let anyone treat me the way they had in the past. I think with that decision came the fear of love.

I love my family, and that I'm not afraid of, because I know they love me, despite how cold my brothers act, and despite the many arguments my mother and I get into, I know they love me and I love them. And that I'm not afraid of, to an extent anyway.

I'm afraid of meeting people in my life and loving them, but getting screwed over because they don't feel the same way. Not just boyfriends or lovers, but friends. I've loved people in the past and sacrificed much for them as a friend only to recieve nothing in return. Literally nothing, because many of them aren't my friends anymore. I don't want presents. I just want affection.

And the kind of love I fear the most is the love when you're IN love with someone. Especially unrequited love. I don't believe there's a worse feeling than loving someone and knowing that they don't love you back. And then the person you love decides what they want to do with your act: They kindly turn you down without trying to hurt you too badly, or they use it and abuse your affections for them. They take advantage of your love, and when you realize you never meant anything to them, you're torn into pieces. Your heart is ripped out of your chest and kicked around like a soccer ball, cut apart like arts and crafts, splattered upon a wall like a wad of paint. I've seen love destroy people, and that is what I fear. I fear the pain that comes along with the ticklish butterflies. I fear the tears that are paired with the smiles. I fear the burst when your heart is so full of love, and all the person has to do is prick it, and it explodes.

I dream of love, but I fear it. I fear the heartache. I've dreamt of love since I was young, and to realize your dream has turned into a nightmare is scary. It makes you contemplate life a little bit more than you probably should. There really is a fine line between love and hate, or in this case, love and fear. I was in love with the idea of love, and now I fear it. Is that a foreshadowing of what is to come? I'm in love with music, but will there be some point where I fear it? Where I will despise it and cast it away from my life all together?

It's completely surreal, sometimes, how love can control us.

Valentine's Day

I don't think Valentine's Day should simply be about chocolate hearts, cute cards, kisses, heartfelt poems, and romantic dinners. Because, honestly, Valentine's Day in that aspect is overrated. Why should you wait for one specific day out of the entire year to do something special for your significant other? Personally, I think it would be much more romantic if something was spontaneously planned in the middle of October or June, and especially if I didn't see it coming. Wouldn't it surprise you more? On Valentine's Day, most that celebrate that holiday, always plan for something special, and the other person would most likely expect it. Why not impress your lover more with something completely unexpected?

Anyway, I really think the world needs to change the meaning of Valentine's Day completely. Instead of this holiday being simply for couples who try to do sweet things for their lover, why can't it be about love in general? Family love, friend love, pet love, people love, animal love... Just one day, out of the whole the year, where the world can settle down and celebrate the love between those in their life? Where the world can love one another and refrain from acts of hate? Why can't we have one day where every single soul out there fills their heart with love, and let there be no pain, depression, violence, fighting, crime, tears, wars, blood, hungar, fear, or anything that falls into those categories?

This Valentine's Day, I'm going to make an effort to create a day without any negative feelings. I know I can't control everyone around me, but I'm going to smile at strangers, love my friends and family, and wish everyone a Happy Valentine's Day, a day dedicated to every kind of love.

Barbie and Ken 101

A close friend of mine showed this to me today. I felt the need to post it here. It had a very powerful impact on me. Almost cried.

This guy, Raphael Casal, free styled this on Def Poetry. It's sad, because every single word of what he said is true.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8MVhIiy8UQ

Watch that and read the lyrics below.

Barbie and Ken 101--


Sometimes I feel like I'm sittin' in the back row of Barbie and Ken 101
A class we are all in, but never seem to learn from
Some general ed requirement for
Students of American culture
A GE that convinces even the brightest
Of young women that sex is survival of the thinnest
And I'm sick of this education that doesn't serve our best interests
My teacher has no face
She is every Revelon model women have ever chased
Her lectures come through magazines in beauty shops & add campaigns, 
Shit,
Just turn on your TV.
This just in: a skewed perspective for todays youth, y'all ladies aint thin enough, fellas aint trim enough, wanna be sexy? 
Y'all don't go to the gym enough, cut to commercial
Common just come tune in to our maintenance team,
Convince you're ugly then tell you how to fix it with maybeline
Perpetually started by these dolls marketed in the late 50's named
Barbie and Ken
Hence the class I'm in
Are you following? 
Shit didn't end
They keep moldin' Barbie to fit new trends
Next maybe they'll have club hoppin' Barbie
With thongs as accessories
Video hoe Barbie
Abusive boyfriend sold separately
Underaged Barbie
Cobey Bryant included
Or 9/11 victim Barbie
And Ken is proud to get recruited
Problem is all these teachings are women's decay
And I'm startin' to worry cuz my girl is up front and she's getting an A
This is where I start getting pissed off, ok
When the f**k did it become all about
Tuckin' in the gut, I gotta get the bigger breast
Shit I wanna fit a little better in a dress
So let me get a little skinny, gotta fit into an itty bitty size slimmer so I liven up the chest
Please
Teacher, teacher, I wanna give my oral presentation
Cuz I have a problem with the class, and matter of fact, I have, a fat ass grudge with the whole administration
You're the reason my girl won't eat in front of me in restaurants
The reason that she thinks she's overweight in over ten spots
Less gut, less pudge, less lunch, less real,
Kore looks, more love, more Barbie appeal? 
F**k Barbie and Ken
My future daughter will never play with them
You're the reason bleedin' 15 year old girls arms are slit
You made 12 year olds think skinny was a compliment
And now it's too late
I can't write my way through this bathroom door
So I raise my hand in class cuz I can't stand it any more
Teacher, teacher, your lecture's all backwards 
You got mothers and daughters forgetting what matters 
Cuz above tits, ass, lips, legs, and uggs 
The most attractive women are the ones who don't give a f**k 
So screw your teachings, your lessons and plans 
You skewed sick distant relative of the man 
Your plan for brainwashin' my baby I reject 
I'm walkin' out of this class, and I will proudly take, my F

A&P

So back in high school, I had to read this ridiculously stupid short story called A&P by John Updike. I didn't like it one bit. I didn't appreciate a 30-year-old man writing about young, teenage girls in bikinis walking through a supermarket.

Just recently, I was forced to read it once more for my current English class. My professer requires us to write in a "journal" in response to the literature we read. I was highly amused by what I happened to pen, and my friend agreed, so I felt the need to share it here.

(By the way, if you haven't read the story, you might wanna take a quick peek at it or else you won't understand what I'm writing about. It's short, probably about three pages long, so if you're interested, I included the link above.)

Question: Why, exactly, does Sammy quit his job?

Response:

Sammy quits his job because he hopes the girls will hear his bold move and be impressed. They don't, though, and walk straight out of the store without a glance in his direction. After he made his spur-of-the-moment decision, though, he apparently felt the need to follow through with his decision, probably for one of a few reasons. One, he might have been a stubborn, teenage boy, and therefore couldn't make an empty threat like that, or else no one would take him seriously. Two, perhaps he felt that the girls might have heard him, and what would happen if they walked in a few days later and still saw him working there? No way would he look all big and strong then, and he could forget ever getting a date with Miss Vanilla Ice Cream Scoops Queenie, let along Miss Chunky White Crescents or Miss Tall Frizzy Hair. And then those girls would tell all their bikini-clad friends, and he would grow up as an old, perverted man, forever working at the A&P without a bikini-clad wife to welcome him home every night from ringing up Fancy Herring Snacks in Pure Sour Cream for 49 cents all day.

I was forced to read this story in high school as well, and I don't like it anymore than I did then. As far as I'm concerned, John Updike's literature is overrated. From what I have heard, and even read, a lot of his literature deals with sex and while that is a huge part of our society, I do not appreciate the way he talks about women at times. For example, in A&P, he says, "You never know for sure how girls' minds work (do you really think it's a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glass jar?) ...." I didn't appreciate that at all. Sammy/Updike shouldn't even be speaking! He can't even concentrate on ringing up the items in fromt of him. Many times, at my own job, I have rung up items while talking to a customer and grabbing one of those big bags from under the counter. If it's anyone who doesn't have a brain, it's Sammy/Updike, because apparently he can't multi-task or even keep his eyes off a few girls for the moment that he's dealing with the customer.

I never understood what made great literature. In my opinion, everyone has a different idea of "good" literature. Then again, due to the lack of enthusiasm to read in our society today, most people (especially college kids and younger) would prefer to watch TV or do other such activities as opposed to picking up a book. And even if they did choose a book, no doubt it would be a picture book.

Despite the fact I may often be left out in conversations among friends and acquaintances, I'm glad I'm not melting my brain with the mindless shows on TV. Not only that, but I rejoice when I find people that read as well, since it's such a rarity today.

It's sad how downhill our society is going.

Dense, Girly Moment -- Even I need them.

Have you ever felt like writing, but wasn't sure what you wanted to write about? That's me right about now.

And therefore... I shall write about my life and things on my mind, most of which will probably bore everyone to death. I don't blame you for not reading if you would much prefer to indulge in some other activity that would probably be a lot more interesting and/or constructive.

In a few of my earlier entries, I wrote about Dave, this guy I was seeing for a little bit, probably a month or two, and how he was six years older than I. Anyway, he has not left me alone. Over break, he sent me a text, and several messages trying to talk to me, one of which was a very long and heartfelt, yet, I'm sure, very fake. He saw me on campus the other day, and, lo and behold, not five hours later, I recieve a message from him in which he claims to miss talking to me. Not only that, but he has resulted in speaking to my FRIENDS about me. He asked my friend Liz, who is in one of his classes (one of which I almost took!), why I wouldn't talk to him, and she said she wasn't about to get in the middle of it. Not only that, but from what I've heard, Ben was supposed to talk to me for Dave, since apparently Ben still talks to Dave.

You would think that after not responding to four of his messages and one of his texts that he would get the point. But no, his brain lies in the smallest part of his body (which I'm sure I don't have to name) and thus is quite small itself.

Now, seeing as how I crave for someone to love me and feel very strongly about me, I have considered that Dave could, perhaps, be telling me the truth, and that perhaps he really can't get over me because he really does care about me and has the whole time. But then why in God's name would he, A. Have sex with someone else while I was dating him, B. Lie to me about having a girlfriend when he did, C. Get a girlfriend almost directly after breaking up with me, D. Start talking to said girlfriend before he even broke up with me, and E. Treat me the way he did? Elyse says it's because he wants what he can't have, and I do understand that. Perhaps I'm the only girl that he hasn't, in fact, "fucked," and therefore does not feel he completed his "mission" until he has successfully taken away my virginity, which he has no rightful claim to and is one of the last people on earth that deserve it.

And then I have another theory. Perhaps he realized that I was probably one of the best girlfriends he's had. Not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but I did put a lot of emotional effort into that short relationship, as I do with a lot of my relationships, be it with a guy or with a friend. He might have realized that it's very rare to find someone like that, who genuinely cares and actually tries. I am far from perfect, and I do have my flaws, just like everyone. He knows I have a wall, but instead of going at my pace and knocking it down brick by brick, he tried to FORCE it down all at once, and even used it against me many times. Not only that, but I don't think he could handle my issues, and the fact that he couldn't scared me. He did, though, admit that he's not used to someone who needed someone to lean on, and that he's usually the one doing the leaning, and that he doesn't have much experience when it comes to being a support system. That still scared me, though. What if NO ONE can deal with my issues? Half the time, I myself can't deal with them! I'm learning to cope, but so much goes on in my head at once that, at times, it's a bit overwhelming. If I can't deal with it, who can?

Anyway, there's a high possibility that I will never talk to him again, unless he actually approaches me, in which case I would do one of three options: 1. Walk away from him and ignore him, like I typically do, 2. Listen to what he has to say, then walk away without a response, or 3. Give him a huge piece of my mind and pray that something will trigger in that tiny brain of his and he'll finally get the idea.

It's funny. Whenever I go through a heartbreak, I write a song about it. I've written a song about Will, which was later a combined meaning after my experience with Eric, I've written a song about Greg, and then about Dave. But also recently, I've written a SECOND song about Dave. That never happens! He doesn't even deserve a second song! Out of everyone I've dated, Greg would be the one that deserves a second song. Dave doesn't. Then again, the song isn't about me pining for him or being hurt, but about how I won't fall for his lines again, and how he won't use me like a toy. If it was about how he hurt me, I would be angry at myself for not being over him, but it's not. It's about being over someone, and realizing that you're not going to let anyone treat you the way they did. So maybe a second song isn't a bad thing; I just hate that it's about him.

So this entry was pretty dense, girly stuff, but I guess even the deepest of thinkers have their moments. And this is my moment.