tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24860303670084541072024-03-12T18:52:15.542-07:00Only SometimesThe weekly musings of a Communications major in the not-so-big city.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-89438930636090072812013-03-27T09:25:00.001-07:002013-03-27T09:55:40.073-07:00The Witch With an iPhoneNestled into the corner of her store, the psychic pulled a curtain sequestering us from the non-existent costumers. We sat at a two seat table, facing each other as the midday sun spilled onto us.<br />
<br />
For my birthday, a friend bought me 15 minutes with one of the psychic in one of the many Wicca/mystically themed shops downtown. She's a firm believe in the idea there's more to this world - ghosts, God, and a host of other possibilities exist for her. For me, I'm cautiously skeptically but I'm willing to suspend my belief for a while.<br />
<br />
The psychic, Amanda, began the session by saying that she wasn't going to say anything general, that she wanted to help me. Then she handed me a deck of tarot cards and told me to shuffle. It didn't matter how, I was getting my aura on the cards.<br />
<br />
She looked at me, through bottle cap glasses and said, "oh! Let me set the alarm and then we can begin." After pulling her iPhone out of a pocket hidden in her robes, Amanda set an alarm and turned to me.<br />
<br />
"I'm sensing a cracked aura. You're frazzled and not sure where your life is headed," that was her first general statement. <br />
<br />
I'm sorry, I'm a 22 year-old who looks 15, sitting in a witch story midday on a Tuesday. You don't need powers to understand I'm not sure where my life is going. <br />
<br />
She then took the deck from my hands, cut it into three piles and started flipping cards, explaining them as she went. Apparently, I'm at a crossroads in my life where I need to decide to do what I love over financial security. That my lack of faith is stopping me from moving forward and I tend to hold in my emotions instead of sharing them.<br />
<br />
Some of that is true. I let wounds fester; I doubt if I'm worth the oxygen I use; I want to love my career, but I also want to pay rent. But I'm sure those statement could be applied to a number of people.<br />
<br />
She asked if I had a specific question I wanted answered. I told her that my dad and I have been fighting and if there was a way to mend our relationship. A few cards later and I was told that I had to apologize and try to see it from his point. That he's a stoic man and giving an olive branch would help. She clearly passed Advise Columnist 101.<br />
<br />
The alarm buzzed and she slid the cards together. She said if I wanted to, I could buy another 15 minutes. It felt like a poorly attempted sales pitch. <br />
<br />
<br />
I realize that this is her business, that this is how she makes money. I also realize that my skepticism may have stopped me from committing 100% to what she was saying. But as I walked out of the store I was left thinking that I had wasted my time.<br />
<br />
-Z<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-6684514829575110692013-03-14T22:45:00.000-07:002013-03-14T22:45:42.723-07:00Who I am<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #666666;">The following is a companion piece to an article to be published in the Fall 2013 <a href="http://www.salemstate.edu/news/statement.php" target="_blank">Salem Statement</a>, the alumni magazine produced by Salem State University.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
I'm gay. Let me explain what that means exactly, because I can almost guarantee that you've made some kind of assumption based off those two words. The only thing being gay means is that I generally find men more attractive than women.<br />
<br />
What it doesn't mean is that I like the color pink, have sex with strangers, that I'm sassy or that I don't like sports. I happen to not like the color pink - it's too bright. I won't have sex with anyone unless I know their favorite color and what fruit they would be. While I have my bitchy moments, it's always done with love. And hockey is my favorite sport because it toes the lie between violence and grace.<br />
<br />
What I'm trying to say is that I'm complex and there's more to me than my sexual identity. And yet, sometimes I feel like I'm reduce to simply being "the gay guy." Last July 4, I was hanging out with friends when one friend commented that she was innocent and had angel wings. I jokingly said, "Oh you have wings alright, but they're the leathery bat kind."<br />
<br />
Without missing a bit, a third friend commented that I had fairy wings. But I don't, I'm not that kind of guy. The image doesn't really match up with my personality - at least I think so. I bring this up because on Monday I attended the second annual LGBT Elders in an Ever Changing World conference. There was a "Coming Out Late in Life" panel where four homosexual people shared their stories.<br />
<br />
LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual) baby boomers are often called the silent generation because at that time there was rampant homophobia and being yourself could mean being fired, disowned, beaten and possibly murdered. And while those heinous crimes still happen today in America, at least now when it happens it causes an uproar<br />
<br />
As a society, we've made huge leaps in acceptance in the last decade alone. However, I have to wonder, if people are still being boxed into one-dimensional cut-outs just based on sexual identity how far have we come? Sure it gone from intense hatred to an all encompassing acceptance, but I just want to be treated like a person. Nothing more, nothing less.<br />
<br />
-Z</div>
Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-49448468403957202013-01-04T15:41:00.001-08:002013-01-04T15:44:48.369-08:00The Sound of Silence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
For the first time in a year, my apartment is quiet - the only sound is little swishes as a fan circulates air. I had to make an emergency return from my mother's house. It was late, the moon high in sky, and after I unlocked the door, I brushed my teeth and went straight to bed. Since I was only staying for the night (I'll be heading back to her house soon), I decided to leave my three cats with her.<br />
<br />
This morning was miraculous. I didn't wake up to an eight-pound heat machine on my chest; didn't watch my glass of apple juice with a wary eye - no fear of reaching paws aiding gravity; didn't have lithe limbs darting in-between my legs as I walked from room to room; didn't count heads after closing my pantry; didn't hid headphones and chargers after using them; wore black without feeling self-conscious; for a couple hours it was just me. Just me.<br />
<br />
With a smile and strut I headed to center of town to complete some errands. First was the post office, then the bank and finally the ophthalmologist to order more contacts. Nothing stressful happened. The mail carrier was friendly, the teller and I joked and the receptionist entered my order without a hitch. The walk home was uneventful. All in all, it was like every other day in the city for me. Except when I open the door to my apartment I was greeted with that <b><i>blessed</i></b> silence I had relished in earlier.<br />
<br />
Since moving into my place, every single time I opened the door at least one cat would greet me. It's usually either Cinnamon waiting by the door or Meowington resting in their bed next to the coat closet. I would say hello to whatever kitty choose to greet me, take my coat off, walk into the bedroom and pet the other two. But today, there was no one. And while my heart didn't pang from the emptiness, I did feel a taste of the loneliness I've been fleeing from since my first break-up. A glimpse into my future if I can't find someone to love me.<br />
<br />
At 22, I know I shouldn't worry too much about love in relation to the rest of my life, but come March I will have gone a whole year without going on a date. I know I'm romantically challenged - some it is my fault, some of blame falls on the men of this world and some of the problem is caused simply because life is life. But I'm so fucking afraid that despite surrounding myself with cats, for the next 60 years I'm going to be greeted by darkness and stale air. Alive in my crypt.<br />
<br />
-Z</div>
Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-84091794048914822212012-12-30T19:41:00.001-08:002013-01-04T15:48:01.537-08:00The best of the year!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Since we're entering 2013, I want to share the 13 best things that happened to me this year.<br />
<br />
In no real order, these are the best moments of my year:<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Zd3sMcSaCd-F4aEIp5iLxLTfkgDP0zsvNK0fJC5MBg3Q-5OSxGai-4wgQzOEOotPD_gW79xwLbNZYrGU8aFxpivpDMo3q9GzTiQHZqMhQwD5nMIF2EcY0AmyV5SuuYZgj4oes2L-lbTs/s640/blogger-image--512170809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Zd3sMcSaCd-F4aEIp5iLxLTfkgDP0zsvNK0fJC5MBg3Q-5OSxGai-4wgQzOEOotPD_gW79xwLbNZYrGU8aFxpivpDMo3q9GzTiQHZqMhQwD5nMIF2EcY0AmyV5SuuYZgj4oes2L-lbTs/s200/blogger-image--512170809.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's home! (#1)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
1. My marine brother coming home from deployment undamaged. No physical injuries, and minimal mental scars. Best Christmas gift possible.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesNEfBkDXQ6fPqTa1y8u0g1_PMn6kMHERcc_ofMqUlsxqOmJiGLOtAoxr1ThSbW9OuY9rQ6KuYkiFo23-uCAGSVv86Kd3d6aKWrBxH4OLJLtdi66FjXNUZPlVf_QRPfPqmbF61pZpNAst/s640/blogger-image--203445041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesNEfBkDXQ6fPqTa1y8u0g1_PMn6kMHERcc_ofMqUlsxqOmJiGLOtAoxr1ThSbW9OuY9rQ6KuYkiFo23-uCAGSVv86Kd3d6aKWrBxH4OLJLtdi66FjXNUZPlVf_QRPfPqmbF61pZpNAst/s200/blogger-image--203445041.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinks with the girls (#2)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
2. Drinking with BL and GD. Both nights were amazingly fun, I got to grab two boobs and slap someone really hard! Plus, there was the drunk Scottish boys ;)<br />
<br />
<br />
3. Dating Paul. He wasn't the best boyfriend and a shitty lover, but it was nice to have someone and good to have stories.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1i6FK6qpzd9j8TJX7K0W-90StR5p_hB5Oa0rNhve_2WbU5nYKr3jts0rJXONaph22rmX0vw1AdZByPoH0QcPQdDXnZVdvSwGj0MwI1scoi74FBy73JV0FQpFGBQ75J-LGJwQM5p9jSCa/s640/blogger-image-567823092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1i6FK6qpzd9j8TJX7K0W-90StR5p_hB5Oa0rNhve_2WbU5nYKr3jts0rJXONaph22rmX0vw1AdZByPoH0QcPQdDXnZVdvSwGj0MwI1scoi74FBy73JV0FQpFGBQ75J-LGJwQM5p9jSCa/s200/blogger-image-567823092.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just one of the stories <br />
I wrote (#4)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
4. Getting hired as the intern for my university. I have had the best the time working in that office and it's made me feel so much sure of my skills. Submitting press releases and having them printed; writing copy for a magazine; editing copy; doing research; interviewing people - students, professors, and other professionals.<br />
<br />
5. Storm chasing with SMC. It was crazy and not something I would have done alone, but it was super fun and I'm glad it happened.<br />
<br />
6. Taking glassblowing. I'm not great, probably the worst blower in the class, but making things has always been a phenomenal experience and glassblowing is like seeing magic.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpQ6gV-oE75kBHtTf8z4cMq3-K1neOjieWMihAY_ppxhfvBxV3zoDT3c9cXUgRpL5hLP9oRP_tGVRT5Wzo06wmVFONt-97z8jGDExsTsvQJfjfPX_cApj0VyfSzYsi8wRiBw9nUbUPao7/s640/blogger-image-345644552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpQ6gV-oE75kBHtTf8z4cMq3-K1neOjieWMihAY_ppxhfvBxV3zoDT3c9cXUgRpL5hLP9oRP_tGVRT5Wzo06wmVFONt-97z8jGDExsTsvQJfjfPX_cApj0VyfSzYsi8wRiBw9nUbUPao7/s200/blogger-image-345644552.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My birthday cake :) (#7)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
7. Surprise birthday picnic in the commons. I totally didn't see it coming and BL and AW made my "perfect birthday" even though it was a crazy request. Ahhh, friendship really is magic.<br />
<br />
8. Concert with my mom. My mom had only been to one concert her whole life (she's 55). At 22, I've already been to 15. She totally didn't like the show, but it was great exploring Boston with her afterwards.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH3BQGiUkdy47xG7wdb64gpqqr7uzx2oAyJ8vHj1U-dMGpn7oIIHC3QnNZsG7JjQgWsL9pFC4GP9ChkJRHxyhokgSjgOCy9KUoOcJ5vS3UKtcp3ztcYgO85wGyMMzaeBtGr2KW-RvidaB6/s640/blogger-image-1251092514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH3BQGiUkdy47xG7wdb64gpqqr7uzx2oAyJ8vHj1U-dMGpn7oIIHC3QnNZsG7JjQgWsL9pFC4GP9ChkJRHxyhokgSjgOCy9KUoOcJ5vS3UKtcp3ztcYgO85wGyMMzaeBtGr2KW-RvidaB6/s200/blogger-image-1251092514.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water isn't safe<br />
anymore. (#9) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
9. Getting a shark's fin. See pics, but I think I invited a hair style and that's amazing. It also inspired a project. Plus it's badass and now I'm a predator. hahaha<br />
<br />
10. Competing in the AAF regionals. Fuck man, working on a campaign for 9 months only to get beaten by the worst idea ever, really makes you feel like shit. But I loved that CG and her fiancée came and that was the first time I heard "Call Me Maybe." So it was a great day. Plus, I looked dapper with my blue tie.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbclpzajbAHQQqQtPKLsIpDgaa1Fy7keSK7oks-Ihhc1AqQPpUTUn0TagYz5qER5KGXi2RFSLlYuEB2MyFaK42bpvwBfriWsfV7tiuXyfQn_UvDBfTWh0INjMBcLFYkiXIeC-819ymroF/s640/blogger-image--931659565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbclpzajbAHQQqQtPKLsIpDgaa1Fy7keSK7oks-Ihhc1AqQPpUTUn0TagYz5qER5KGXi2RFSLlYuEB2MyFaK42bpvwBfriWsfV7tiuXyfQn_UvDBfTWh0INjMBcLFYkiXIeC-819ymroF/s200/blogger-image--931659565.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Titanic style! (#11)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
11. Going on a cruise with EL. It really solidified out friendship, being able to talk about boys and dancing with her. And I love being on a boat! haha<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjeUKo3Fi_OAXMp-dNpRdfFhehOxpskpLBZlEsz4LYRgIm9VKigibTJBVWFJAaIoKb52e1BdL-NZKjMecMw1QZSGSYVEByMmlqM-IDw8Z3PEMcUfsaqFWaWfNVXrcmBKgTSrygyjLvxN69/s640/blogger-image-1889524729.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjeUKo3Fi_OAXMp-dNpRdfFhehOxpskpLBZlEsz4LYRgIm9VKigibTJBVWFJAaIoKb52e1BdL-NZKjMecMw1QZSGSYVEByMmlqM-IDw8Z3PEMcUfsaqFWaWfNVXrcmBKgTSrygyjLvxN69/s200/blogger-image-1889524729.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We saw deer, rabbits, fish<br />
birds, and cats. (#12)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
12. Visiting CG and spending the night with her. Again, it solidified the friendship and I loved seeing her town and her cats. It was also great to be back in a sorta natural place. I'm a child of the woods, living in the city.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
13. Getting inspired to photograph again. Three years of not touching a camera was rough and crazy of me. The Jerry Uelsmann exhibit and doing action shots of hockey games were the perfect catalyst to restart that passion.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAIDUCueYke-tIvG1iIkZv1yiUzLpkdxd4-U2Pol28wheC3oZ6OLwjbIvqVlifxZuc8uOZbT30qeNYFiVnlkGAt3OcZZZA8Ovm5-eRPuWZASkYQENw2ojN3g3Lm_MbuKVa5JWykDNzn2Q/s640/blogger-image--1547196229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAIDUCueYke-tIvG1iIkZv1yiUzLpkdxd4-U2Pol28wheC3oZ6OLwjbIvqVlifxZuc8uOZbT30qeNYFiVnlkGAt3OcZZZA8Ovm5-eRPuWZASkYQENw2ojN3g3Lm_MbuKVa5JWykDNzn2Q/s200/blogger-image--1547196229.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uelsmann is called the<br />
"Father of Photoshop"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix71OxrRQH8J_RPCeS1ps1D_KEYJIWiDPSgWQxcDeZOyeuQHUyhzWYRkRDESWqzpYwpj7RKtql3JQiOov3-5bmZ1-4trYfrPdg498JFHmFieGUBGSY5MrGZwKfsKlS5fJ52broDpj2XK8y/s640/blogger-image-2067316504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix71OxrRQH8J_RPCeS1ps1D_KEYJIWiDPSgWQxcDeZOyeuQHUyhzWYRkRDESWqzpYwpj7RKtql3JQiOov3-5bmZ1-4trYfrPdg498JFHmFieGUBGSY5MrGZwKfsKlS5fJ52broDpj2XK8y/s320/blogger-image-2067316504.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chasing the puck!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Here's to 2013. Hopefully I'll have 14 great moments to share next Dec. 31. Thank you all for being a part of my life. I love you.<br />
<br />
-Joe</div>
Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-50624411893795431702012-07-27T03:27:00.000-07:002012-07-27T03:28:49.704-07:00Legend of Korra, the True Disappointment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
WARNING: Spoilers Ahead!! <br />
<br />
<br />
Before I begin, I just want to state that I liked "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1695360/" target="_blank">The Legend of Korra</a>" the summer squeal to "Avatar: the Last Airbender" (AtlA). Despite its faults, the plot was engaging, the changes in the Avatar universe were believable and refreshing, the bending battles were really cool, and it expanded the original characters' stories without relying on them. In short, the 12 episode-long story was worth the (about) 6 hours it took to watch.<br />
<br />
However, as <a href="http://www.ign.com/articles/2012/06/26/the-legend-of-korra-season-1-review" target="_blank">others</a> have <a href="http://www.denofgeek.com/tv/the-legend-of-korra/21764/the-legend-of-korra-episodes-11-12-review-skeletons-in-the-closet-endgame" target="_blank">pointed out</a> the season was not flawless. There were mistakes and dropped opportunities that had events gone differently, "Korra" could have been truly amazing. And while most of the reviews focus on <a href="http://kotaku.com/5923014/5-ways-the-legend-of-korra-went-wrong" target="_blank">failed plot</a> points I think it's almost important to note a bigger failure in "Korra" i.e. the lack of social commentary.<br />
<br />
For anyone who hasn't seen the shown (watch it!), "Korra" tells the story of Avatar Korra. A woman in her teens who can "bend" three of the four elements. When we meet Korra, she has mastered water, earth and fire, but is having trouble with air as well as the spiritual side of the being the Avatar - the only person in her world that can bend more than one element.<br />
<br />
Realizing that the only way she's going to learn how to bend air is to travel to the large metropolis Republic City, Korra takes control of her destiny and travels to the large city. However, she quickly discovers that all is not well in Republic City. A cult-like movement headed by Equalists, is trying to rid the world of benders - especially the Avatar.<br />
<br />
After 12 drama-filled episodes, Korra defeats the Equalist leader and (debatable-ly) fully realizes her Avatar abilities. However, in order to truly understand my main complaint with "Korra" we have to discuss how AtlA handled social commentary.<br />
<br />
In AtlA, episodes tackled sexism ("The Warriors of Kyoshi" and "The Waterbending Master"), racism (any fire-bending central episode), holding grudges ("Jet" and "The Great Divide"), class division ("The Blind Bandit"), the concept of justice ("The Puppetmaster"), self-confidence ("Sokka's Master" and parts of "Tales of Ba Sing Se") and the effects of war ("Imprisoned") to name a few.<br />
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AtlA blends these very real social problems that viewers face/will face while advancing plot and not seeming like a Very Special Episode. A rare treat in television programming that should be celebrated.<br />
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"Korra" does this to an extend, but not nearly as well as AtlA. And more often than not, the solution is a joke or worse, the problem is answered with violence. The very premise mirrors prejudice perfectly. Benders vs. non-benders. People are being judged and hated simply because of traits that they cannot choose. There's even a moment were some benders are abusing non-benders and a non-bender tells Korra that she "is their Avatar too."<br />
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This could have been a great time for Korra to grow as a character and try to understand life as a non-bender. To see a different side of an argument and to use that knowledge to try to close the gap between the two sides - something the Avatar should do. Instead she using her Earth bending to threaten the benders to leave the non-benders alone. <br />
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The same can be said of pretty much every time Korra interacts with an Equalist. And yes, drama makes good TV, and no one wants to watch two characters talk it out. However, there could have been a moment when a captioned Equalist shares his/her beliefs, and then the next scene is Korra mulling over what she learned. But that never happens because Korra defaults to violence and that attitude isn't healthy for real world counterparts to absorb.<br />
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Another problem is how homelessness is depicted. When Korra first arrives in Republic City she is surprised to discover a man living in a bush. This character later returns to help Korra and her friends go underground. Again, this could have been a great moment to discuss the very real problem of homelessness, but it's made into a joke. When the characters are forced to eat "squirrel soup" it could have a statement about how desperate people below the poverty live. Instead we laugh at Asami's awkwardness. <br />
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To its credit, "Korra" does handle family dynamics really well. The father-daughter, brother-brother, abusive father-sons, and traditional nuclear family relationships are accurate and very real - an aspect missing from AtlA. <br />
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There is a second season of "Korra" coming, so maybe the show will tackle social issues more effectively in the coming year, but as I said, the first season was a bit disappointing. <br />
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-Z</div>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-80436692889052227142012-06-05T22:55:00.002-07:002012-06-05T22:55:15.386-07:00Path Ways<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Right now, I'm waiting for the pilot episode of "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1441109" target="_blank">Cougar Town</a>" to load. The show had its third season finale this May, and despite positive reviews, it never really caught my attention. That is until I read blog updates from this <a href="http://www.pleasewelcomeyourjudges.com/" target="_blank">guy</a>.<br />
<br />
He was writing about the highlights from my new favorite TV show, "Happy Endings" and "Modern Family," which I also enjoy. I was only interested in the HE and MF section, but since the highlights for all three shows were lumped together, I figured why not? Reading never <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120616" target="_blank">hurt anyone</a> (hehe).<br />
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But now I'm wondering, what got me here? I wanted to see a specific dialogue of HE but I couldn't remember what episode it was in. I Googled and the Please Welcome Your Judge blog appeared in the results. That explains why I'm watching Cougar Town, but why was I searching for HE quotes. Well, I only started watching the show because it was on after MF and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2255288/" target="_blank">Eliza Coupe</a> was in it. I started watching MF because I saw an episode with my cousin while talking to her mom and I know Coupe from "Scrubs" which I only started watching while living in NC because TV was my only friend. I was living in NC....<br />
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You can see where I going with this. No moment just happens. Everything is connected. This sentiment can be seen everywhere - from MIB 3 to Stephen King novels. <br />
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The point of all this: Stop what you're doing and take a moment to think about how you got there. Now marvel at the ripple effects one little change in your life can have.<br />
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-Z<br />
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</div>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-45885313237984994652012-04-13T07:18:00.001-07:002012-04-13T07:20:18.596-07:00Anime Boston<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSHD5t2CbquOHC1e4JqbZPwoGdsS1E-3D1kWQMZ1jywYPOlMqc2Plo3FePnKniyUi0lOboYeA5eS6bxj1HubzaQ6kRSYfoRH_W-UFqt6yKG4gtJb_GHHxRlRyB3BkwMC47TTuoUXUkw1A/s1600/MadHatter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSHD5t2CbquOHC1e4JqbZPwoGdsS1E-3D1kWQMZ1jywYPOlMqc2Plo3FePnKniyUi0lOboYeA5eS6bxj1HubzaQ6kRSYfoRH_W-UFqt6yKG4gtJb_GHHxRlRyB3BkwMC47TTuoUXUkw1A/s320/MadHatter.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It was amazing. Everywhere I looked was something new and exciting to see. But if I stared too long at one thing, I was sure to miss another. This was my second time attending Anime Boston – a convention dedicated to everything and anything anime-related. The good panels are informative, fun, and worth the thirty minute line wait. The bad ones, notsomuch. But the real beauty in the con is the cosplayers.<br />
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Cosplaying is when someone dresses as a character from a TV show, movie, game, comic, etc. Some people go full force and act like their chosen character, while others are only wearing a costume, sort of like Halloween but in April and for a weekend instead of a night. <br />
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Strolling around the Hynes Convention Center’s three stories is a treat for the eyes. The colors alone inspire infinite ideas. It is as if a Crayola Crayon SuperPact box and a rainbow had babies. The darkest black of Batman could be standing next to the neon yellow of Super Saiyans with everything in-between only a turn of the head.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyfBK2U-tiT34OwP6n8y4E09AadE2Z2hcvgJks7Gx-Vrw2BqEpvV2f70NWx6hFdwXLcMU7vYQmk5CcGnKXhUmSn0VSFkwAfEn_56BVz_HTSLSLzNrl3fZiQjqpVKtkxyrTRJsO1TxVH6Wb/s1600/PrincessC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyfBK2U-tiT34OwP6n8y4E09AadE2Z2hcvgJks7Gx-Vrw2BqEpvV2f70NWx6hFdwXLcMU7vYQmk5CcGnKXhUmSn0VSFkwAfEn_56BVz_HTSLSLzNrl3fZiQjqpVKtkxyrTRJsO1TxVH6Wb/s320/PrincessC.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The people are just as inspiring as the colors. This year there was a Catwoman in skintight leather, and it was if skintight leather was invented for her. Not only did she have the body to rock something so bold, but she had the curves to fill the suit. I’m gay and proud, but even I had to say, “Damn!” There were treats for girls and certain boys too! Shirtless Mad Hatter (above) had everyone desperate for a photo and gave my cell phone a new wallpaper. There were some people in “did-you-really-think-you-could-wear-that?” attire, with buttons straining against rolls of flesh. But in the spirit of the con, you take a photo anyways.<br />
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Some outfits were obviously store bought, others painfully homemade, and still several that were surprisingly completed in living rooms. It didn’t matter though; every person helped fill the air with electricity.<br />
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The hallways were full of the scent of activity. Not the pungent smell of body odor (though that could be found), but the smell of passion and adventure. Similar to the morning of the annual beach trip, excitement flew from person to person, gaining momentum. It was easy to get swept into the exhilaration and ignore grumbling stomachs and aching arches. Those were trifle emotions; I fed off the energy in the building and every adventure needs a battle wound.<br />
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I couldn’t stop; there were too many pictures to take, too many people to talk to, too many memories to make. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeHPx3Me83i5wFuTGa2bpto9I6uvBiu9ZMiGbXLbiewwZ0vJM4caUIA3i7LitsN6CWQuq1rJX4ls5G2AnH0oUAo222oPEH1HR_9pIsQBl28OLrC0NdAE71CjDhoKJBlZEJOA6XyGDkRqR/s1600/Ivy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeHPx3Me83i5wFuTGa2bpto9I6uvBiu9ZMiGbXLbiewwZ0vJM4caUIA3i7LitsN6CWQuq1rJX4ls5G2AnH0oUAo222oPEH1HR_9pIsQBl28OLrC0NdAE71CjDhoKJBlZEJOA6XyGDkRqR/s320/Ivy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
All models over 18.<br />
-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-45514781012260436002012-04-02T17:36:00.000-07:002012-04-02T17:36:18.768-07:00Where Lafeyette Crosses Holly StreetI’m going to die in that intersection. I just know it. One of these mornings, something is going to happen and my life will end. A car will run the red light as I’m crossing, someone on their phone won’t be paying attention, or a bus’ brakes will fail at the worst possible moment. Somehow, some way, I’m going to die there.<br />
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I know this because I feel it. Every morning I approach the crosswalk, my skin crawls and I become more alert. I feel pressure on my left shoulder and I have to shake it off. And even on the hottest day of the year, my skins breaks into goose bumps and a chill settles around me. I believe the universe is trying to tell me something, to warn me of the dangers – what else could it be? <br />
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It may be vain to think that the universe cares about what happens to me, but I believe it has a grand plan for everyone - we all have a destiny of sorts to fulfill. In the past, I have gotten signs and feelings that have led to big moments in my life. <br />
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Two years ago when I was interning in the Governor’s press office, I awoke unmotivated and considered using my only sick day to skip work. But that’s immature and inappropriate. To settle the internal debate, I decided to flip a coin. Heads: go to work, tails: stay at home. <br />
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A flick of the thumb and I saw Washington’s face. It wasn’t the answer I wanted, so ‘two out of three’ was invoked. Heads again. ‘Three out of five’ was used. Heads again! Thinking that maybe this coin could only land on heads, I changed the rules: heads goes to bed, tails gets to work. I palmed the coin and threw it in the air. Tails. <br />
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That day, my fellow interns called out last minute, three press releases were dropped and Senator Kerry’s antics made the front cover of every newspaper. It was the busiest day that summer and I handled every intern task alone. My boss was impressed and invited me to not only write a speech for the governor but to be present when he read it out loud. The final product was dramatically different from what I wrote, but he kept the opening and part of the closing. Words I wrote came out of one of the most powerful men in Massachusetts!<br />
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So call me crazy, say I’m being ridiculous, or whatever other small-minded insult you want, but I know I’m going to die in that intersection.<br />
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-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-32215958689432380362012-03-03T21:51:00.000-08:002012-03-03T21:51:02.051-08:00I Use to Like Sad ShitI use to be a robot. I didn't have laser eyes, super strength, and I wasn't hunting for John Connor, but I almost never cried. I felt emotions, I was sad when my grandfathers died within a week of each other but I didn't cry. I even did a marathon of "Grey's Anatomy" without crying, and for those who haven't seen the show, it has its sad moments - downright depressing at times.<br />
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Then my surrogate older sister went to war. She was a member of the National Guard and she was deployed to Iraq. There was a real possibility that she could die, war is notorious for people dying, and my armor broke. I would spend nights worrying and wondering what would happen if she died. Inevitably, this would lead the night to end with me crying myself to sleep.<br />
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In drinking, once you go pee you've broken the seal and must respond to your bladder when it demands. The same is applied to crying. Now, I can't stop myself. I watched one, just one, episode of "Grey's" and I was bawling like a drunken Father admitting he failed his children.<br />
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A Journalism professor said that this is good. It means that I'm no longer skating through life. That by allowing myself to cry, or more accurately, to actually feel something, I'm growing as a person. That I'll get to experience the full emotional spectrum and thus be grateful for the happiness I do feel.<br />
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I think that's bullshit. I was happy. Now I'm just sad a lot.<br />
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If only I had the money and technology to become a million dollar man. If only I could be rebuilt.<br />
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-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-9270880635996543192012-02-21T01:43:00.000-08:002012-02-21T01:43:04.696-08:00Everything You Want, Just a Click AwayThis is a story about porn.<br />
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My cousin, Amy and I were driving home from a night in Boston and we decided to stop by her friend Andrew’s house. I had never meet Andrew before so I didn’t know what to expect. When we entered the house, both my cousin’s boyfriend, Dan, and Andrew were smoking pot and drinking beer.<br />
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I didn’t care, I’ve seen people doing worse and at least they were staying in for the night. As custom of these kind of gatherings, we slowly but surely drifted to Andrew’s laptop to watch Youtube videos. <br />
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We’d gone through a couple of videos when Dan thought of one he wanted to share. It’s a short film of a <a href=“http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4drucg1A6Xk”> live action version of Portal</a>. Dan either couldn’t remember the video’s title or he was too drunk to know what to do to find it. Andrew suggested Googling it, using his browser Google Chrome.<br />
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With Chrome, you can search for something by typing directly into the navigation bar. You can also type the first couple of letters of frequently visited websites and Chrome will list them only a click away.<br />
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Dan found the video by searching “Portal live action.” However, when Dan first started typing, Chrome thought he was looking for Pornhub.com, (as the name suggests) a porn site. Now, this means that Andrew is a frequent visitor of said site. Which is fine, I watch porn too. Everyone does.<br />
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What makes this memorable to me is the fact that no one said anything. Again, due to the drugs, I think Dan didn’t notice but Amy and I definitely shared a look. But we didn’t say a word because that’s “guest culture”. <br />
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In Angela S. Choi’s debut novel <i><a href=“http://www.amazon.com/Hello-Kitty-Must-Die-ebook/dp/B005307LJA”> Hello Kitty Must Die</a></i> she writes that when you are on a boat you have to adhere to “fish culture”, meaning there are certain social rules that only apply to people on boats. She also writes that when you are on a plane, you adhere to “bird culture”. Another example is adjusting your demeanor is at work/school.<br />
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And while this porn-larious incident is now a comical memory, it’s made me wonder: if we are constantly changing the way we act to fit into a new “culture”, what version is our true self? <br />
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Is it when we are alone, held back by nothing but our own limitation? A, dare I say it, “alone culture”? Or, is it a combination of all the “culture”s meshed together?<br />
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-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-78982390689835131302012-02-15T07:40:00.001-08:002012-03-03T20:38:48.325-08:00Spelling A VictoryDo you know what a ryot is? What about an amu? Qat? I ask because less than a month ago, I had no idea these words existed. Now I am about them because I have an iPhone and more specifically, I play Words With Friends (WWF) and I play to win.<br />
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WWF is an app version of Scrabble. Instead of seating around with a group of friends, I can play this classic board game everywhere and at any moment. This means that at every moment my cell phone was battery life, I can be learning a new word. That’s how I discovered qat. <br />
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A friend played it against me and I was shocked. I knew there were ‘q’ words without the ‘u,’ but such a short one must be something she made up. I Googled it and qat is a real word meaning an illicit drug made from plant roots that can cause hallucinations. It is sort of like a natural version of acid, and a good vocabulary word. Plus, it’s worth like 20 points.<br />
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I learned ryot by happenstance. I had three letters left, a ‘y,’ a ‘t,’ and an ‘o.’ The ‘r’ was on the board and I knew I could spell rot, but that would have left my with a ‘y’ and that letter is hard to play be itself. I placed all my titles on the board and just starting trying any combinations I could think of. Luckily ryot was successful and even though I lost that game, I had learned that farmers in India who are bound to the land they till are called ryots.<br />
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I’m a Communications student, but in truth, I’m really an English major. I love words and this game is not only expanding by word knowledge, but challenging it. Quick, there’s a ‘w’ on the board and you have ‘a,’ ‘z,’ ‘t’ and ‘l.’ What word can you spell? Waltzing never seemed more important in my life than in that moment.<br />
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Amu is a scientific measurement of something’s mass. I cannot wait to write something involving that word. I don’t care what it is, but it will be glorious. I’ve lost a few games of WWF but adding these words to my vocabulary is the best part and well worth the defeat. Never have I had so much fun spelling.<br />
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-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-55025852398557885802012-01-28T15:31:00.000-08:002012-01-28T15:31:54.457-08:00A Second Look At "Twilight"This semester I am taking a class in the literary significance of mythical creatures, specially werewolf, zombies, and vampires. The professor has told us that these creatures appear in one form or another in every culture. These beasts are universal and therefore must mean something.<br />
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I’ve studied fairy tales before, but then I was focusing on how they have changed over time and how that reflects the culture of the teller. I’ve never even given thought to what the creatures might mean. <br />
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My professor has told us that werewolves represent rage, Romaro zombies are a fear of disease, and vampires are sex. I agree with some of what he has said, but some of it is suspect. For example, he says that Frankenstein’s monster is a zombie.<br />
His argument is that the monster is reanimated dead. Yes, it doesn’t hunger for brains, but Mary Shelley was not afraid of disease. She was terrified of what science was capable of doing, so she created a creature that embodied that fear. This is just one example of how these creature’s meanings change over time. Another, more interesting, example is vampires.<br />
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Originally, vampires only feasted on young woman, and while the only thing penetrated was necks, vamps clearly were a synonym for sex. Or really, rape. Along comes Anne Rice, who changes vampires into pure sexual creatures who actually have sex, with both humans and other vampires. She also let her vampires walk around in the sunlight.<br />
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Rice took the vampire tropes that she liked, and threw the ones she did not out the window. She completely redefined what a vampire was. In her life, sex didn’t have to hide in the dark. And most importantly, woman could actively partake in sex, not be passive people that sex just happened to happen to them.<br />
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With the changing world, these creatures change to match what our culture needs them to be. This is what makes “Twilight” so amazing. Once again, vampires have been completely redefined. Yes, Stephanie Meyer’s vampires are drastically less frightening than vampires of the past, but maybe sex is less frightening to an “educated” generation. (More accurately, a generation that feels educated.)<br />
It’s impossible to know, but I feel we, as a culture, are on the cusp of another sexual revolution. Consider the recently “Slut Walks” in major cities around the <b>world</b>. More and more women are accepting the idea that they are sexual beings that don’t need to be ashamed of their nature.<br />
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Let’s look at Bella Swan. She wants to have sex. Like a lot of sex. But unlike the vamps of the past, this human chooses to wait for her partner to also be ready. And when she finally has sex, she accepts the consequences like an adult. She contracts a STI (of sorts) and instead of denying and freaking out about it, she forms a plan to combat the problem.<br />
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Now, for the glittering in the sun. The first vampires died when exposed to sunlight. This can be seen as a culture that didn’t talk about sex publicly. Victorians aren’t known for their sexual freedoms. Rice’s vampires could go into the sun, but, for the most part, nothing happened to them. This culture saw sex as something to discuss, but not something to publicly dwell on. Meyer’s vampires shine when touched by the faintest of sunlight. It seems clear that this emerging culture celebrates sex. Anyone disagree?<br />
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As a literary piece, “Twilight” is riddled with faults. But on an anthropological level, is “Twilight” more than a story about how awesome having a boyfriend is? Could it possibly be a story about how sexually empowered woman are becoming?<br />
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-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-24815756225275055802011-12-31T02:32:00.000-08:002011-12-31T09:27:23.150-08:00A Year in ReviewSince this is literally the last day of 2011, I thought it would be nice to look back on the year that was. And even though not much has changed for me, it's nice to stroll down memory lane and highlight the big events. Walk with me?<br />
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<b><center> January </center></b><br />
<ul><li>Jan 17, First official day as a Salem State University student.</li>
<li>Jan 19, Starting viewing poetry as a serious art form.</li>
<li>Jan 22, Start this blog.</li>
<li>Jan ?, Join SSU's student paper as a staff member.</li>
<li>Jan ?, Set up a date on Craigslist. It ends with disastrous results.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center> February </center></b><br />
<ul><li>Feb 14, For the first time in years, give out Valentine's Day cards.</li>
<li>Feb 21, Start writing latest unfinished novel.</li>
<li>Feb ?, Join MASSPIRG. Quit later.</li>
<li>Feb ?, Join SSU's chapter of AAF. Love it later.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>March</center></b><br />
<ul><li>March 11, Japan has a major earthquake and realize how close death is.</li>
<li>March 15, Fly to Philly for Spring Break. Love life.</li>
<li>March 18, Leave Philly. Be sad and happy at same time.</li>
<li>March 23, See Ellie Goulding live. Had a blast!</li>
<li>March ?, Come up with tattoo design idea. Flip-flop on getting it. </li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>April</b></center><br />
<ul><li>April 8, Decide not to go to an Adele show, she won't be that famous.</li>
<li>April 22, Go to Anime Boston as Lady Gaga. Regret it.</li>
<li>April 22, Pete Lee goes to Westfield State.</li>
<li>April 30, Present JCP campaign. Fails to impress, look like an idiot.</li>
<li>April ?, Join a Bible study group. Quit later.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>May</center></b><br />
<ul><li>May 1, Osama bin Laden dies. Be saddened by the celebrations.</li>
<li>May 5, Discover fan fiction, never look back.</li>
<li>May 6, Vomit from drinking to much for the first time.</li>
<li>May 11, See Airborne Toxic Event and love it.</li>
<li>May 13, Semester ends. Lowest grade is a C+. Argue to have it changed.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>June</b></center><br />
<ul><li>June 1, A tornado doesn't come through town.</li>
<li>June 14, Friend tells me that she's not renting an apartment with me.</li>
<li>June 23, Saw a friend's production of Cinderella. It was ok.</li>
<li>June 28, Day trip to Boston with a friend. Re-fall in love with libraries.</li>
<li>June ?, Start cross-stitching again. Later quit that too.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>July</b></center><br />
<ul><li>July 2, Three miracles are born.</li>
<li>July 2, Three stories end before their time. One in my hands.</li>
<li>July 6, Photograph the most beautiful building in my hometown. Love life.</li>
<li>July 17, Watch a woman pee in public. Blog about it a month later.</li>
<li>July 22, See Daniel Tosh and laugh uncontrollably.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>August</center></b><br />
<ul><li>Aug 3, Swear that I would never dye my hair pink.</li>
<li>Aug 5, Sign lease-officially renting an apartment. Feel like an adult.</li>
<li>Aug 8, Think of an awesome joke that no one laughs at.</li>
<li>Aug 15, See Maroon 5 alone. Love every second once the music starts.</li>
<li>Aug 17, Turn 21. Celebrate by drinking tequila for the first time.</li>
<li>Aug 24, Friend asks me to help write webcomic. Be extremely touched.</li>
<li>Aug 28, Start secondary <a href="http://deardiary-joe.blogspot.com/">blog. Update it more that this one. </a></li>
<li>Aug 30, See Sara Barellies live and love every second.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>September</center></b><br />
<ul><li>Sept 1, Do first duties as News Editor for "The Log."</li>
<li>Sept 6, Dye my hair pink. Love life and enjoy being gay.</li>
<li>Sept 7, Second semester of school starts.</li>
<li>Sept 7, Friend leaves for Japan and I truly miss her.</li>
<li>Sept 10, Go to job interview and don't get it.</li>
<li>Sept 17, Go to Mixfest and like being so close to Boston.</li>
<li>Sept 21, Do first "Day in the Life."</li>
<li>Sept 22, Fall in the mud and love every second of it!</li>
<li>Sept ?, Go vegetarian.</li>
<li>Sept ?, Friend gets engaged and feel pure happiness for her</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>October</center></b><br />
<ul><li>Oct 5, Do a good deed and buy winter stuff for homeless people</li>
<li>Oct 11, Realize I'm slacking in my journalist duties and vow to do better.</li>
<li>Oct 15, Confirm dislike of beer.</li>
<li>Oct 20, Gaddafi dies. Think about editorial, never do. Regret it.</li>
<li>Oct 21, See Rocky Horror Picture Show and miss being on stage.</li>
<li>Oct 25, I don't go to U-Nite. I regret this.</li>
<li>Oct 27, Finish first short movie and feel pride.</li>
<li>Oct 28, Go on a "Haunted Cruise" and love feeling the wind and ocean.</li>
<li>Oct ?, Join SGA</li>
<li>Oct ?, Eat meat.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>November</center></b><br />
<ul><li>Nov 3, Start hosting a weekly radio show and consider a career in radio.</li>
<li>Nov 17, See a trailer for "The Woman in Black."</li>
<li>Nov 18, See "Breaking Dawn: Part 1" and enjoy brain candy.</li>
<li>Nov 19, See a friend's orchestra concert and meet her parents. Love life.</li>
<li>Nov 21, Finish second short movie and edit it alone. Feel more pride.</li>
<li>Nov 29, Finish a blog post I've been thinking about for 6 months.</li>
</ul><br />
<b><center>December</center></b><br />
<ul><li>Dec 1, Go to a hokey game and want to attend more.</li>
<li>Dec 7, Seriously worry that you might die a virgin.</li>
<li>Dec 9, Quit working for "The Log." Don't regret it!</li>
<li>Dec 13, Seriously worry that you might die virgin. Again.</li>
<li>Dec 17, Semester ends. Get an A and be proud.</li>
<li>Dec 17, Semester ends. Get a C- and be ashamed.</li>
<li>Dec 20, Alex comes home.Love life like never before.</li>
<li>Dec 21, Throw a holiday party. Only have family come.</li>
<li>Dec 29, Childhood best friend has major surgery.</li>
<li>Dec 30, think it's a brilliant idea to relive the year (it was!).</li>
</ul><br />
Here's to 2012, may it be just as eventful as these days,<br />
-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-14538052542382443452011-11-04T02:43:00.000-07:002011-11-04T02:43:14.526-07:00Carting OffShe told me to leave it. That someone would come and take care of it – in fact, it was someone’s job. I just stood there. This is the woman who raised me to return pencils after I borrow them, to pick litter off the street and recycle it, to donate extra money to charity, to help whenever and wherever I am. And now, she’s telling me to leave our shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot. I was shocked.<br />
<br />
No really, I was flabbergasted.<br />
<br />
My mother is a single mother of three and she taught all of us to help people. She taught us that it’s our duty as humans to help others – to improve situations, even if it’s only a tiny change. It’s because of these lessons that my biggest fear is that I’m not a good person. <br />
<br />
I joke about doing “my good deed” for the day, but I honestly have to force myself to stop thinking if I’ve done enough. I cannot explain this properly, but I’m constantly worried that I’m not helping the universe. I won’t try to pretend that my life is significant on a global view, but I believe that by putting good in, good will come out.<br />
<br />
Returning a shopping cart to the store may not seem like a big deal, but it’s surprising the amount of people who don’t do it. So many people that stores created a job just to combat the issue. I believe that by retuning the cart helps that person and somehow that will snowball into something bigger. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s what I was taught. That’s what made her comment so confusing. It was like she had given up.<br />
<br />
I won’t pretend to know the details of my mother’s life. I did at one time, but a space has grown between us. In many ways, I’m a stranger in my own family (but that’s a story for a different time). My mother is a beckon of hope for me, if she can not only survive her life but also continue to spread good there’s a chance I can too. <br />
<br />
But now that’s she given up, I have to wonder: what’s the point of even trying. If she can’t do it, how can I?Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-21039979771550945622011-09-09T14:36:00.000-07:002011-09-09T14:36:47.456-07:00Ten Years LaterI know that I should feel something passionate or poetic about the tenth anniversary of 9/11, but honestly, I’m just tired. Tired of all the noise and commotion and the nagging feeling that somehow I should feel proud we were attacked. <br />
<br />
I want to state right from the beginning that I don’t hate America, I’m not pro-terrorism, and while I’m against this war, I support our troops. <br />
<br />
I think the reason why I’m frustrated with everyone making a big deal of this day is it is not like we were the only country attacked. London was attacked on July 7, 2005 and just recently Norway was attacked by a terrorist. To act like 9/11 was a defining moment in our country’s past only insults our European friends. Yes, the attack did change the course of our country history, but it does not represent anything about our nation. <br />
<br />
Also, this isn’t the first time America was attacked. When I was traveling to Chicago (via train), I remember seeing some graffiti that said, “12/7. 9/11. Never forget.” But we don’t celebrate Pearl Harbor. <br />
<br />
As Americans, we remember that day, but we don’t flout it. It is a battle scar we have and we’ll tell you all about, but only if you ask. In a way, I feel like this is more respect of what happened. Battle scars are not trophies.<br />
<br />
Last semester, I had a professor say that 9/11 was the biggest event in my life. His comment really bothered me because I feel it robs me of my past and future. My best friend’s wedding means more to me than that day. The same can be said of my grandfather’s death, my tattoo, and even being accepted to Salem State. <br />
<br />
Each of those events changed my life in different ways, and to be completely honest, more than 9/11 ever will. Besides, to focus on our past only hurts our present and ruins future chances. I’m not going to avoid planes because someone used it as a weapon once. When I get married, I don’t want to be thinking of 9/11. <br />
<br />
A tragedy happened, but as a nation, we should let time and peace heal us. <br />
<br />
I think <i>The Washington Post</i> editorial on tenth anniversary of Pearl Harbor said it best: "It is to this future rather than to the past that thoughts should be directed on this anniversary of Pearl Harbor Day."<br />
<br />
-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-77508228575950065852011-08-29T03:54:00.000-07:002011-08-31T19:36:02.848-07:00He Lives In The Middle Of Nowhere With MurielI watched a woman pee. This wasn't a sexual thing, the woman and I were stuck in traffic after an event we both attended had ended. We had been waiting for at least an hour when she opened the backseat door and the driver's door to create a make-shift barrier. She dropped her pants, squat down and peed. From my view point, I couldn't see anything except the doors, but the car to the left of me and the truck in front of me must have had a clear view of everything.<br />
<br />
I understand that she must have had to pee extremely badly, but to have the courage necessary to pee in public like that is admirable. And I know that I'm giving this woman a little too much credit, but it seriously took some huge ovaries. Never in my life, would I pee in a crowded parking lot. <br />
<br />
In my defense, I have done things others would never dream of.Some people think that for me to live alone is courageous but I feel that is just something I'm doing. The same can be said of when I found a place to live in Boston on Craigslist. My English professor at the time was amazed I would do this without worry; I was not. <br />
<br />
In high school, a history teacher had us answer a "question of the day" to start class. I remember one question was "what is the definition of courage?" Most of the class' answers involved overcoming a fear, an act of bravery or something akin.<br />
<br />
However, a student (I believe her name is Kaara) said (and I'm paraphrasing here), "Courage is not accomplishments done in the face of danger, but doing the right thing even when you don't want to."<br />
<br />
Even now her reply makes me stop and think. Sometime you can not explain a complex idea like courage without defining what it is not. For isn't not knowing what something is, half the definition of learning to understand it? <br />
<br />
I can't recall my original response to the question of "what is courage" but I'd like to change my answer to this: courage is not something done to achieve a specific goal, but doing something another person would never do.<br />
<br />
In a sense this makes every action courageous. So how do we know if we have any courage? Maybe by doing something we'd never dream of. Or better yet, maybe we all to need to pee in a parking lot.<br />
<br />
-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-495771812391799252011-07-30T08:36:00.000-07:002011-07-31T05:47:09.014-07:00Swim FanI watch <u>My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic</u>. I watch this show because:<br />
1) it’s fucking awesome<br />
2) it entertains me<br />
3) it’s funny<br />
4) it’s produced by the same woman who helped make <u>The Power Puff Girls</u><br />
5) flawless animation<br />
6) solid storylines that while are a little corny, are fun to watch<br />
7) wonderful songs<br />
8) to sum it up perfectly, it’s fucking awesome<br />
<br />
You can watch all the episodes on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JeJ6-gN0eB4"> Youtube</a>.<br />
<br />
I would gladly call myself a fan. I’ve “liked” the official Facebook page, seen all the episodes and I’m currently waiting for the second season to start. I’ve seen fan-made videos, read fanfiction, and after some Googling I’ve even learned the names of some of the lesser (and background) characters.<br />
<br />
The best thing about Googling the background characters is I was able to learn some fan-made histories. There is a pony named Derpy Hooves. Derpy is a special pony; she isn’t all there; lost a few marbles; retard. The first time Derpy appeared, she was at a party and her eyes were crossed. Every appearance afterwards, Derpy has done something to further the idea that she is a functioning retard. Some fans have even decided that Derpy has a daughter who loves Derpy and helps care for her.<br />
<br />
Another fan favorite is Caramel. Caramel was named by the writers and even has a few lines, but some fans have decided that Caramel is gay and in a relationship with a stallion by the name of Big Macintosh. The fanfiction and fanart for these two are <a href="http://papercell.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d3c1ido">really cute and highly recommended</a>.<br />
<br />
Although none of it is true, I loved learning these fan-facts and it makes re-watching episodes more fun. And yet, I would never have thought to name a background character, let alone makeup a history. And herein lies the problem, I’m only a causal fan.<br />
<br />
There are some people who love a show/book/movie/anything so much that it becomes a part of their identity. I have a friend who after seeing <u>Lord of the Rings</u>, became obsessed and filled her life with anything LOTR related. To this day whenever I see anything LOTR, I think of her. In middle-school (junior high) a group of friends did the same thing with <u>Pirates of the Caribbean</u>, this time to the point of changing their names to Jack, Will and Swann. Eight years later and two of them still respond to Jack and Will.<br />
<br />
But it is not just tv shows/movies/books that I detach from, it’s life experiences too. I put a wall between me and the world, and I have no idea why. I know I keep secrets from people (like not telling my roommate I was gay) because I don’t want to get too close to people. I understand that, you can’t hurt me if you don’t know me.<br />
<br />
But take this example. I saw Ellie Goulding in concert in March. The building had two floors, the bottom was directly touching the stage but the top floor had a better view. My friend and I choose the top floor. Before the show, I remember looking down on the first floor and thinking <i> There are two options for this show. 1) I could watch from up here or 2) I could experience it down there.</i><br />
<br />
We ended staying on the second floor and I’ve come to realize that I almost always choose "see" instead of "experience." <br />
<br />
I wish I could finish this post with a vow to change, but I seriously have to ask myself if I can? And if possible, do I want to?<br />
<br />
-ZJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-86591318088837022302011-05-24T02:31:00.000-07:002011-07-26T21:30:34.708-07:00She Threw It AwayWhen I was in fourth grade, we had an assignment to design a trap for a leprechaun. The trap had to use at least one lever, pulley, or similar mechanisms. I don't remember why, but my uncle helped me (read: all by himself) build a super awesome trap. There was a cage that lowered onto the leprechaun and everything. It was made of wood and we painted a forest scene, complete with a lake with tiny frog figurines. There was ivy, butterflies, and birds perched all around. Seriously, this trap was the fucking shit. And that's me being modest.<br />
<br />
After the teacher graded the projects, I took mine home and like all my school projects, gave it to my mom. She put it on top of her desk in her work area and kept it safe for years. Then we lost the house and kept the important things and left what we couldn't carry. She took the trap.<br />
<br />
Five years later, my mom moved into a little one bedroom apartment. (I was living with my brother in a two bedroom place at the time) She borrowed a mattress and box spring from my cousin; TV from an uncle; microwave from a second cousin; dishes courtesy of Wal-Mart. For the first couple of weeks, her place didn't have the home-y feel to it because the only decorations my mom had were refrigerators magnets. Don't get me wrong, those letter magnets are worth hours of entertainment, but they're only available in the kitchen.<br />
<br />
Then we started getting her stuff out of storage. First was the VHS player and all her tapes (goes to show you how old my mom is) and her curtains. Then a bookshelf and boxes of novels. Pictures, posters, board games, etc. And finally the leprechaun trap, which was placed on her bed's headrest. <br />
<br />
A year and a half later, my brother joined the marines, I have an empty bedroom, can't afford the rent and my mom spends all her time at my place anyways. So she moved in with me. (It's important to note that <i>she moved in with me</i>, not the other way around.) This is the third time in seven years my mom has moved. During the move, I kept asking my mom why we couldn't throw some of this stuff away, especially the trap and the board games. What use did they have? She refused and somehow made room for nearly everything she had. <br />
<br />
Then, earlier this week, one of my dogs knocked the trap off the table and it broke. I was not home, so my mom picked up the pieces and threw them away. I only found it because I was taking the trash out and noticed a piece of trap in the bin. When I asked my mom why it was there, she explained what happened.<br />
<br />
The trash man comes in three hours, and it's taking all of my will power not go digging for that leprechaun trap. It is pointless, but for some weird reason I want it and it hurts to think that it'll be in a landfill outside of town soon. But now I understand why my mom wants to keep all those board games.<br />
<br />
It's not that we might play with them again someday, it's that we played with them once. They remind her of happier times and who am I to question if she can keep her memories?Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-76739338066347571222011-04-29T21:03:00.000-07:002011-04-29T21:09:36.231-07:00What School Taught MeI know what a gerund is*. I actually learned that this semester in one of my classes.<br />
<br />
<i>Why does this matter? Why am I starting a blog post about gerunds?</i> <br />
<br />
I'm not sure. Recently, I've been thinking about why I am in college and whether or not going to debt is worth it. Some of the classes I'm taking this semester are kind of pointless, at least to me there are. I like <i>Law & Ethics</i>, but I doubt that I'll use anything I've learned in this class in my life. For two reasons:<br />
<br />
1. I knew a fair amount of the material covered from previous classes.<br />
2. It's <i>Law & Ethics</i>. I don't know how to work the definition of pornography into everyday conversation. <br />
<br />
The same principal can be applied to <i> Writing for Media, News Writing, Grammar & Style,</i> and <i>Global Village</i>. Not to say I didn't learn something in each of those classes, just not something that's going to help me in the foreseeable future. The only thing I learned was a few tidbits of pocket trivia (including gerunds!).<br />
<br />
At least that's what I thought at first. I've come to realize that maybe these classes are not pointless. G&S has taught me about who I am as a writer. Global Village taught me more about my values than how other countries use media. And let's not forget the socialization I learning.<br />
<br />
Ever since I left high school I have become awkward and shy. This semester I've pushed myself to not sit alone in my room and to talk with people. Overall, I think I've done a good job. Made some new friends, looked at boys, went to sports events to actually see the game (crazy I know). <br />
<br />
So I've gone $30,000 in debt for intangible things. And here's the best part: I'm adding two more years and $60,000 before I'm done. I have second thoughts, but not regrets. <br />
<br />
--Z<br />
<br />
*A gerund is when a verb with the -ing ending is acting like a noun. Ex: Matt likes <u>being</u> a musician.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-23899528671426340002011-04-17T01:48:00.000-07:002011-04-17T01:48:37.140-07:00Sometimes, I can't believe how much I love the English language. Or more correctly, how much I love words/thoughts/ideas/feelings/life. <br />
<br />
I love writing, creating something out of the thoughts floating around in my head. to form that perfect sentence is like a summer's kiss in light rain. There are so many choices, that finding that words that fit perfectly together can be so overwhelmingly daunting that I back away from writing. Of course, that's the worst thing to do. My idea didn't go away because I didn't know how to express it. It's still there and it still wants to be heard.<br />
<br />
I realized that it's this trait that makes me judge art the way I do. Songs need lyrics; movies need dialogue. Books get off the easiest. Write one perfect sentence and I'll remember your book. I'll never forget <i> The Forest of Hands and Teeth</i> because of one idea the writer shares.<br />
<br />
"When you hear the constant screaming, you get use to it. You stop looking for it, and when you hear it, you just shrug it off. Life is normal."<br />
<br />
It was a zombie book that sucked. The main character is a whinny bitch that didn't deserve to live. But I liked the idea that we get so use to something that despite it being fatal, we just accept it. It's so true.<br />
<br />
I finished another chapter in my a book of short stories I'm writing. I'm proud of myself. Of course, I'm working at a ridiculously slow pace, but I have hope for this one. I'm tired of giving up on ideas.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-84770009131070871302011-02-17T16:05:00.000-08:002011-02-22T06:38:48.460-08:00Waste Not, Want Not.This semester, a new dorm and dining hall opened on campus. Students have generally accepted this new dining hall as THE dining hall and people crowd the tables every night. Students will fill up their plates, eat half and throw the rest away. In an effort to cut down on the waste, the school has put up a board that tracks how many pounds of waste each day, and a bin with food bits in it.<br />
<br />
Now, I understand not eating something because you don't like it, and I greatly encourage trying new things, even if you're not sure how it'll taste. But I've seen students eat half a burger, and throw the rest away. I once saw a girl take three licks off an ice cream cone (that she made herself) and throw the rest away. It's as if some of these people think the food supply is never ending.<br />
<br />
Last December I decided that I would stop throwing away food, or at least cut back. Something that I'm proud to say as been extremely easy. First, I cut back on portions. This has actually made me healthier. Now when I finish a meal, I sit back let my stomach decide if it's full or not and act accordingly. <br />
<br />
But food isn't the only waste I've seen at Salem State. My apartment mates constantly leave the television and lights on. Once again, I understand the need to have background sound playing and not wanting to wake up to a dark house, but I find it all unnecessary. Right now, I have the light in my room on, and my laptop charging. That's it. My cell phone charger is unplugged and only gets plugged in when I need it. Same with my iPod and battery chargers. <br />
<br />
Energy and food are expensive. Let's all hold hands and try not to waste it. Or at least grow up and act like adults who give a fuck.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-16791978201501315192011-02-03T20:15:00.000-08:002011-02-04T14:11:57.318-08:00A look around my roomI moved into dorms this January. I packed the night before, and excluding my flip-flops, I have everything I need (oh and food, but that's not what I meant).<br />
<br />
I have my beddings (pillows, blankets, sheets, etc), clothes, personal hygiene (toothbrush, shampoo, body wash, foot cream, etc.) and student necessities (backpack, binders, pencils, etc). But that's something every student has. This post is about the items that won't help me in college, but I NEEDED them.<br />
<br />
First thing I packed was my cameras. I'm a journalist, so I need these. A digital camera that I love, but is getting old. And a flip camera that I almost never use. I also brought little notepads, as those are easier to carry than notebooks. Pretty simple.<br />
<br />
Next, a calendar, batteries, various chargers, iPod, and an address book. Self-explanatory.<br />
<br />
Third, my winter gloves and scarf. Also self-explanatory, but I choose my TMNT gloves, not because they work (they're fingerless and thin as air) but because they remind me to be myself. My scarf is actually a toga slash turned into a scarf. That came because I wanted my roommate to know I'm a little bit of an old ball. <br />
<br />
Fourth, books and a deck of cards. To fight boredom. These ones are failing at their jobs. I finished all the books, and I'm too shy to ask my roommates to play with me. Hopefully, this will get better, but I doubt it. Once a pattern sets in, it's in for life.<br />
<br />
Fifth, a blow-up desktop zombie. This is because I love zombies, and because my sister gave him to me. He reminds me of her, but he also tells me that life is definite and if I don't act now, I'll lose my chance. I have a skull bead that does the same thing, but I don't have it up yet.<br />
<br />
Sixth, is my book journal. Every time I finish a book, I update the journal with the title, author, and a small review. This primarily is to prove to myself that I can maintain a project for more than three months. But it also reminds me of my past. It tells me where I've been, and where I'd like to go. Mostly in a literary sense, but still it's a focal point if I ever need one.<br />
<br />
Seventh, a framed painting. This one is special because I wrote the poem that the painting is modeled after. The painting was part of an art show where artists would draw something based on poems, and writers would writer something based on paintings. It was wonderful to do and I was breathless when I saw the painting inspired by my poem. This reminds me that I'm creative, smart and a bit of a dork. I love it.<br />
<br />
Almost last is my graduation cap's fluffy thing. The fluffy thing is so important to who I am. I dropped out of high school when I was 16. I eventually graduated from a high school in 2009 because of a wonderful program that picked me up and saved my broken spirit. Don't ever think of high school drop out as dumb, no we're just lost. I'd given up on my future, but that fluffy thing reminds me of miracles and tells of impossible hopes come true.<br />
<br />
But my favorite (and last item) is a friendship bracelet made by a friend. It's rather simple in design. Blue and orange thread wrapped around itself and knotted to hold it in place. Too small to fit o my wrist without braking, and definitely too fragile to see the outside world, but this bracelet is my heart. It reminds me that people out there love me for me. Not what I can do for them, not because we are family, not because 'destined for greatness' but because I simply exist. Because they're glad I breathe. And while it has not had to yet, I know that love will keep me afloat in the coming storms.<br />
<br />
My whole life fit in four plastic containers, but I know they were brimming to the surface.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-18804374441817739392011-02-01T23:24:00.000-08:002011-07-31T19:04:42.415-07:00I am so horny, it's sad.I'm a virgin.<br />
<br />
At 20, my only experience with anything sexual is one kiss and constant masturbation. Now you might be thinking that this honorable; saving myself for someone I love, maybe even marriage.<br />
<br />
Only problem with that idea is I'm a guy. Now you think I'm pathetic. What if I told I was gay? That makes it worse? Yeah, I agree.<br />
<br />
Let's talk (I'll fill in your parts)<br />
<br />
I don't think people should just fuck everyone they see. And I certainly don't like the raise in teen pregnancy. But I think we can all agree it's sad that the only sexual adventures I've had was a kiss from a girl, and she's a huge tease who kisses everyone. Plus there was no tongue and it barely lasted 3 seconds.<br />
<br />
<i>How....?</i> <br />
<br />
Well, I grew up in a small town, where homosexuality wasn't really talked about. I don't think the town would have stoned me, but we definitely didn't have any parades. Combined with the fact that I stereotypical like older, buff, men and my choices were limited. Besides, no one wants to fuck a fat 15 year old. <br />
<br />
But when I was 16 I moved to a big city...near a military base....in the South. Talk about a double-helping of intolerance. I only told one person, and it was terrifying. I had good reason to stay in the closet though. A classmate once said that she wanted "all the fags round up and burned." (Not to me, we were having a class discussion when she said it)<br />
<br />
Unsurprisingly, I came back home less than a year later. Two years later, I moved to Boston for an internship. Being in a city that is well known for its gayness, you'd think I could found someone to hit this. Not so. While I was there, someone actually told me that I was "going to burn in hell." I respond with, "at least I'm having fun getting there." Went back to my apartment and cried in the bathroom until my roommate came home. <br />
<br />
Internship ended and I was back in Small Town (refer to paragraph 5).<br />
<br />
But location isn't the only problem. First, I'm awkward and insecure. Pretty boys make me dumb. My lips melt together, refusing to let me say anything in fear it'll sound stupid. Next, my eyes, which crave to see naked glory, stare (which makes everyone uncomfortable). Lastly, gays are worse than girls, and I'm far from attractive and I have no idea what self-worth feels like. <br />
<br />
But it's not only that. Sex makes me nervous. Alone in my room, I can post this, no problem. Ask me about my sex life, I'll blush, stutter something incomprehensive, and quickly change the subject. It doesn't stop at talking though. I walk up two levels of my building to use a vending machine. <br />
<br />
<i>How is that relative?</i><br />
<br />
Well, the vending machine two doors down from me, has condoms. I'm so freaked out by the idea of sex, that I only use that machine when its past 3 a.m. and even then, I run back to my door after I get my candy (usually M&Ms).<br />
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<i>Point of all this?</i><br />
<br />
I have a tentative date this weekend. He had an ad on craigslist (yes, I'm so goddamn fucked up that I had to find a guy on the internet), so if I don't post anything for a week, call the police. <br />
<br />
He's probably killed and ate me by then, but I'm young and gay and (once again) in a gay-friendly city. That's prime news, and dying young is the only way to become a legend.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-32635523102851585462011-01-30T20:55:00.000-08:002011-01-30T20:55:24.089-08:00In a Certain SlantRecently, I had the option to recite one of my poems in public, but I choose not to. I told myself that as a reporter, I couldn't interact; had to stay neutral. But even before I was assigned to cover the event, I thought <i>I'd like to go, but I won't read.</i> <br />
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It's not rejection I fear. I've had that my whole life. No, I think I fear acceptance. I couldn't risk someone understanding my poem. Can I handle giving a piece of myself to a stranger? And if someone takes it, will I ever get it back? And worse yet, will they love it like I did? <br />
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Maybe I just want to be special. Isn't that what the teachers have always told us? <i> "You're unique." "Don't be afraid to be yourself,"</i> and all that other crap. And how can I be special if a complete stranger understands me? Then there's the true fear, what if I'm not special? What if, I am just average?Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2486030367008454107.post-8027263424733257782011-01-22T23:47:00.000-08:002011-01-27T20:32:34.771-08:00A New Start Is Really an Old BeginingIt's 2:30 and I'm about to start a blog. I don't know why. Wait, yes I do. It's because of <a href "http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com"> hyperbole and a half </a> and because I just drank some milk. Maybe I should explain.<br />
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Hyperbole is a wonderful and humorous blog. Go read it. Done? Good.<br />
I was just reading about how Allie was arrested and how she coined the phase "mandatory sex party" and it made me think <i>why don't I have crazy adventures?</i><br />
<br />
Just as I was about to dive into some truly epic melancholy, my body screamed, "I'm thirsty! I'm thirsty! Get me something to drink! RIGHT NOW" So to please the beast, I went to my kitchenette and poured myself a glass of milk. Just when I was about to go back into my room, one of my apartment-mates (I have 5) comes out and asks if I was having a late night snack. <br />
<br />
Originally, I was only going to have the glass of milk, but the mention of food made me hungry. I mumbled yes, opened a cabinet and grabbed the first thing I could: Chocolate covered granola balls. Being the creative soul (read: weird) that I am I poured the balls into my milk, thinking <i>it'll be just like chocolate milk!</i><br />
<br />
It's not.<br />
<br />
How does this explained the blog? Simply, I missed having one from my emo teen years, and I wanted to share that chocolate granola bars in milk =/ chocolate milk.<br />
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You're Welcome.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16074339373244679691noreply@blogger.com1