wordsinthedeep replied to your post: I have discovered that I made the right choice not…
Hitting the proverbial brick wall is somewhat frustrating, yesh. Aww hope the rest of the day goes better for ya guuuurl.
It didn’t really, but that’s okay. XD My grandmother basically accused me of being too defensive, getting too offended too easily/being touchy, being too stubborn, making funny faces and raising my eyebrows in such a way that makes her think I believe she’s stupid (O_ó?), and things like that. I’ll concede that I do go on the defensive, especially around her, but that’s because she’s the one who says things of me that aren’t true (like for some reason she thinks I don’t like wearing baggy pants to work out in?), so of course I go on the “defensive” in order to correct her. All of those other accusations actually sounded like her own flaws (minus the eyebrows, but she does over-explain everything like I’m 12) but hey, that’s just me. Let’s just say that I’m glad I have a fully functioning hypothalamus to keep me in check, because for about a good ten minutes I created a long speech I would have liked to give her.
On the bright side I had an actual conversation today with one of my grandmother’s friends. Like, we sat and talked in the car, and holy friggin’ cow it was an actual exchange of words between two people who listened to what the other had to say and responded appropriately instead of these one-sided lectures and anecdotes I’ve been living through for the past five weeks. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated the delicate art of conversation as much as I do now.
I have discovered that I made the right choice not going into a field dealing with computers. I just get so incredibly angry and frustrated when I have to repeatedly explain how to save a friggin’ photo at a lower quality to cut down on file size. It’s like, this is not rocket science. It’s clicking “Save As” and then making sure the little bar is at a 3 or 4 and then hitting “enter.” Clearly, you’re just not listening to me, or you’re giving up on it without even trying. I could sit and re-explain historical events for hours, but at 9 o’clock in the morning apparently I get snappy when I’m asked to do such a simple task on the computer.
Goddammit, Supernatural. Friggin—what kind of ending is that to season 5?! I mean, at the time were they not sure they were going to get a 6th season? WHAT THE HELL. That’s almost as good as a final ending as you’re going to get on a TV show. I don’t want to look up the series on Wikipedia or anything else in case I get spoiled—tumblr is already bad enough. I shall have to wait until I catch up, then, to go look up the production history. Though I’m really, really happy I’m watching this years after it came out so I KNOW there’s another season. I just…have to wait 5 hours to start it.
*sigh* I guess I have to somehow force myself to sleep. Honestly…it’s like being a kid at Christmas. Santa and my presents are not going to come if I don’t fall asleep, but the anticipation threatens to make me an insomniac.
ARGH WHYYYYYYY WHY DOES THIS SHOW HAVE TO BE SO ADDICTING
I don’t like you, facebook and I don’t like your silly timeline and making me choose a silly header image and putting my name up as a url and oh god the layout of the timeline page is so cluttered and why did I join this site when they’re always forcing you to adhere to their silly changes damn you, facebook, damn you.
Had an hour heart-to-heart with my roommate about our mutual dislike of Moffat’s Doctor Who.
This is why we’re roommates. <3
(Plus, we both have a mutual hipster attitude about it, too. I feel super guilty and ashamed, but there’s really no other way to explain it. I’m allowed to have one hipster subject, right? This is it.)
$10 says I lose a follower due to my intense, passionate disapproval of Moffat’s Who.
I’ve spent the entire day sitting through “required” loan repayment tutorials and finding out exactly to whom I owe
my firstborn child my loans and how to pay them back. I owe $23,000. I don’t even know how this happens.
I left my driver’s license back at home, 100 miles away.
Worst of all, I found yet another unused Border’s gift card while tearing my room apart looking for my driver’s license.
I have no food here, and I’ve been smelling someone cooking food all day. Right now it smells like ramen.
(However, after dealing with all this loan stuff, I have half a mind to starve myself just because it’ll save money.)
I left all my new anime back at home on my mom’s hard drive, and streaming anything here is a futile effort.
Okay, I’m done complaining.
Sorry for the long post. I guess I just have a lot of feelings on the subject. I’ll make up for it by posting pictures of our puppy.
As I approach the end of my school year and undergraduate career, I find myself having to take a boat-load of surveys—how satisfied am I with the academic environment? How good are my classes? Was the campus hostile toward you?—and the like. But, inevitably, I get asked questions like, “Did you have conversations with people of different a ethnicity? Did you have roommates that were a different race than you? Did you ever have a conversation/study partner that was of a different race that changed your perspective?”
First off, let me express my dislike for the term “race.” There are no “races.” We have all been bred with one another at some point in our human history, and to essentialize and codify people into vague concepts of “race” is dehumanizing. Unfortunately, the term is solidified in our culture, so it can’t really be avoided. I’d agree with “culture,” and I’m willing to go with “ethnic background,” but I really think “culture” is a better term. “What culture do you align with?” Japanese? Puerto Rican? Australian? Samoan? Czech? See, this already allows a lot more flexibility and personalization. When someone says, “Oh, I’m White,” or “Oh, I’m Asian,” or “Oh, I’m African” (etc.) I wonder if they get as bothered by it as when I say it. To use “race” terms like those erases entire histories and complexities of culture. White? Please, the only way “white” is an applicable term as a race marker is because it’s like white light—that is, it’s made up of an entire spectrum of color/culture that has been blended together. It shouldn’t apply to the color of one’s skin. Asians? Blacks? Hispanics? Middle Eastern? Those groups are comprised of people who have warred in the past (and may still be doing so now), have vastly different outlooks on life, and speak many languages. What is even the point of using race terms? So we can save paper and make surveys easier to print? Arguably, a more legitimate reason is to track medical histories, but I think that you can still do that by referring to country of origin rather than a “race,” and even then, you could confine the “race” terms to the medical field and not social ones. But, again, I’m afraid that the idea of “race” is so integrated into our world that we’re not going to get rid of it.
Still, this is not what I’m really bothered about. What really gets me is the lack of acceptance of those of us who are of mixed ethnic descent. This is not to say I get mad about it, but rather I feel a bit sad, or I feel a bit left out. Excluded. Treated differently. There is such a strong focus on promoting one’s heritage in today’s world—Mexican, Chinese, Armenian, etc.—and I say power to you. They have every right to express pride in their culture.
But what about those of us who are from two worlds?
People will say, “Oh, that’s cool, you have parents of two races!” But if people of minorities feel they get singled out, even if it’s through praise, then those of us with two ethnic heritages get spotlit. We’re different from the minority groups. We’re separate from the rest because we’re not just one thing. We’re impure. Maybe we only grew up knowing one culture and not the other. We get judged on looks by our own minorities. There has been more than one occasion when I’ve been left out of a group simply because I don’t look Chinese or Asian. Or, there was another instance when a friend introduced me to someone this way: “Hey, this is my friend [insert my name]! We knew each other from freshman year. Guess what race she is!”
Wow, thanks. I’m glad my one defining feature is the fact that I’m mixed. (And I’m glad I got turned into a spectacle/game show.)
And I’m not saying anyone has any malicious intent here. But I will say that people form cliques based on “race.” It’s understandable—you gravitate towards those with whom you have a shared bond or cultural history. Go ahead and celebrate it. But what I’m saying is that those of us who only have half (or less) of that claim get kind of left by the wayside. It takes a bit more effort to be accepted, and even then, you have to promote only that one cultural aspect of yourself. I can’t celebrate both my Chinese and my “White” side at the same time; when I’m with my “Asian” friends, I’m “Asian,” and when I’m with my “White” friends, I’m “White.” Or, depending on the situation, sometimes when I’m with my “Asian” friends I’m “White,” and when I’m with my “White” friends it’s pointed out that I’m “Asian.” Either way, I can never be both at the same time. I’m constantly living with only half of myself.
This is why I propose to create social groups not based on “race” or ethnicity, but culture.
Because, really, I’m American more than anything else. This is not glorifying America in any way—I’m American, and that encompasses all the good and bad that our country stands for. I have been raised with American values, and I was born of a country with a specific history much different than any other country, and this history has shaped the worldview through which I see myself and the planet. When someone asks me what race I am, I respond with “American.” Why can’t “American” be a race? Because we don’t have any defining physical features? To be blunt and ineloquent, that’s stupid. Americans not only have their own accent, but they are very distinctive culturally, just as much as any other “race.” So when a survey asks me “Did you have conversations with people of different a ethnicity?” I find the question to be flawed—should I examine this through only one of my ethinicities? Both? And, really, my conversations with other Americans who were of different ethnic descent were not nearly as culturally educational as the few times I talked with people who were born and raised in a different country altogether, regardless of their ethnicity. My friends from England may as well be from China with how different their culture is from American culture. So if a school is really interested in finding out how often people interact with others of another social background, they should change how they word their questions.
I’m still kinda sad I never had the time or energy to try and make a club at school that centers upon people who are of mixed backgrounds. I would argue that we have our own distinct problems and perspectives and life experiences than those of a single “race.” We have our own struggles. We have our own identity. All our lives we have had to choose one side of ourselves. So, I propose to either change the way we define ourselves socially—shifting the focus from “races” to “culture,” so I can then define myself as American and avoid splitting my identity along historical ethnic lines—or we should create a new “racial” group—“mixed race.” It’s not enough just to be able to check more than one box on the “race” question on a survey (a feature which still isn’t always available); I want to be accepted as a whole being, not just two halves.
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SEEMS TO WANT TO SPOIL TALES OF THE ABYSS FOR ME
first my roommate—well, actually, first the intro cutscene before the start menu, and then my roommate
For all of you uploaders out there, don’t title your videos with a spoiler because it’s going to pop up on someone’s recommended videos on the side when they’re going to look up a movie trailer and that title alone will SPOIL EVERYTHING.
JUST LET ME ENJOY THIS GAME SPOIL-FREE, DAMMIT
I am now convinced I must camp out in the living room this weekend and marathon this game for two days, just to finish it before the world decides it will now start setting up marquees outside my window that display minor plot points because it seems like it’s run out of major events to tell me.
(Persona 4: The Animation rant)
I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN
I WAS FRIGGIN WAITING FOR THIS
THERE WAS NO WAY THEY WEREN’T GOING TO PULL THIS CRAP
I was wondering, “Which one is it going to be?” and, shoot, I guessed wrong. But, still, after playing Persona 3 I knew that whoever they chose in Persona 4 was going to be as terrible and unexpected as the person they used in Persona 3. Wow, can’t believe they went with this person.
Namely, those bittersweet endings to movies where the protagonist, after coming to terms with whatever tragedy/problem/conflict/upsetting thing that has driven the plot and his character development, catches a glimpse of the former lover/item/source of conflict. They’re not quite sure of what they saw, but because they have grown, it doesn’t really matter, and they move on with their lives.
I am here to tell you that this is not how it works in real life.
I’ve gotten into the habit of checking every single bike I pass by, whether someone is riding it or if it’s a large rack of bikes. While walking up to the library a few minutes ago, I was still checking for my stolen bike, even though I just picked up my new one today. Like I said, it’s habit by now since I’ve been doing it for the past 7 weeks. Unfortunately, the light on campus is poor. And extremely orange. My old bike was blue, and in the orange light it would essentially look black. As I was just about to finish passing through the main thoroughfare, a biker flashed past me. I swear to you, just by looking at the frame of the bike, I half believed it was mine. I more than half believed it. However, the lighting was poor, and the guy just darted by on my right side, so by the time I turned around I could only see the back wheel (since he was heading away from me). I am at the point where no, I don’t really need the bike back, but AUGH THE CURIOSITY IS KILLING ME. Was it my bike or not? I just want to see it, see if it’s being taken care of properly, see if the owner is an asshole or not. It’s hard to not get attached to something when you’ve had it for nearly ten years. It’s like my baby, and I want to make sure it’s new life is as wonderful as the one I gave it. ;_; So I feel like I was just in one of those movies, where finally I get a new bike, and my old one gives a quick wave before disappearing off into the distance. Or did I imagine that it was my bike, and simply project my desires onto the silhouetted passerby? This uncertainty has made me more discontent than anything.
And that is why those movies are wrong. >( This is not resolution.
What is this? A file size limit on my mp3? I think tumblr just doesn’t want me to educate the masses with the first movement of my favorite symphony.
Well, so much for sharing that…