Post 4: Frustrations with the World (Yes, in the Plural)

Upon finishing my Poli Sci paper, I feel somewhat less frustrated with the American political system, probably because I've just been venting my frustration with the corrupt election system for the past couple of hours (I just wrote 4 pages really quickly and hopefully efficiently!). However, I know that nothing really can be done to save our political system, with a democracy no longer possible in such a large country that created a Constitution that eliminated accountability before it really became an issue in politics. I mean, why worry about blaming politicians when you have leaders like George Washington and Adams and Jefferson, who are not the Founding Fathers for no reason. Is that why America is an essentially misogynistic nation? Does it really date back to Jefferson having sex with slaves?
And on that note, I saw Breaking Dawn: Part 1 as my destressor earlier tonight, and I am saddened by how much I liked the book compared to the movie (the book wasn't all that great). One of the oddest things about the movies is the non-believable "chemistry" between Bella and Edward, especially when Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson are dating in real life. There are 2 possible and equally viable explanations: Robert Pattinson's self-explained one in which he plays an awkward, lurking stalker; and the more realistic one that their real-life relationship is a sham meant to last until the movies are over and people no longer think it's adorable for them to be together because they're in a series together (the Zac Efron/Vanessa Hudgens syndrome). It's happened countless times in Hollywood, with costars falling madly in love because their characters are love interests (Miley Cyrus/Liams Hemsworth), and then splitting almost as soon as the movie wraps up. It calls to mind Blue Lagoon, in which the director instructed Brooke Shields to keep a poster of Christopher Atkins on her ceiling so she would develop a crush on her costar while filming and the chemistry in the movie would be "real". I have so many ideas and theories about how Hollywood works, but I can't stand the business I so direly want to investigate more. Everytime I see an actor/actress, I am so tempted to ask: are you real? do you have any personality outside of your characters you are most known for? actors are known for losing themselves in their roles, so do they become so lost in playing fantasy that they no longer have a reality (like Heath Ledger in playing the Joker)?
Also, although I am an avid lover of James Lipton's Inside the Actor's Studio, I don't believe in all that BS about method. You can hem and haw all you want, but acting ultimately comes down to how shallow you are, and how easily you can lose yourself in a role. The worst actors are the ones who play who they are in real life (take January Jones in Mad Men) and the best ones can play versatile roles that compel audiences to follow the character development throughout the film and actually feel as if the character is alive and walking all around us (Meryl Strep is a fine example).
So many movies are such crap these days that the Oscars raising the Best Picture nominees to 10 was a waste because there aren't 10 Best Picture-worthy films this year. What happened to dressing like Cary Grant and dancing like Fred Astaire? Or being loved for personality and not sexuality (although that's never been the case in film). Movies used to have dialogue and character development, and titles without "Returns," "The Sequel," "Man on a Ledge." How has Hollywood run out of fresh ideas when thousands of screenwriters submit original scripts every year?
Well I am nowhere close to finishing my endless tangent on the demise of films, but it's time for Greek and bed. Onward and upwards!

Post 3: Contemplations on Pre-Hell Week

Upon watching the trailer for Miss Representation, I remembered all the hopes and ambitions I had had up until middle school, when gaining weight and not being the smartest in my class taught me that life wasn't necessarily going to go my way. As soon as I started liking boys but not being as skinny as the rest of my friends, it was all over. The insecurities grew, as did my acne, boobs, and waistline. I'm proud of being tall and athletic, but my body doesn't show it. I have pain almost daily and I have horrible posture (although it is much improved ever since I've gone to Vivian). What happened to the bold, empowered me who wasn't afraid to be pushy to get what she wanted when she was little? Yes there were some aspects of my character that horrified me as a child, like laughing when other kids got hurt, but I was still a sweet, nice girl. However, I did have depression very early on, and I am still afraid I am going to die in my sleep without ever really having lived. I've done all these great things in my life, but I still feel like there's a hole missing. Like some key element to who I am is out there and I just have to find it somehow. A large part of me thinks the missing link is finding love, whether with a boy or a girl (I still haven't decided yet). However I know that before I can love someone else I have to love myself, but I'm afraid of dying before either of those things happen. How much of what I hate about myself is a media construct and how much is truly me and the malfunctioning of my brain. I so desperately want to either live in an atmosphere like Supercamp or just be happy with who I am. But as soon as I see a couple or a skinny, pretty girl, I feel empty and self-conscious, like no one really wants me when there's better options constantly walking by. I keep fantasizing about the ideal situation for me right now,  in which my crush crawls into bed next to me every night and spoons and then leaves the next morning without either of us saying a word. It'd be a silent agreement in which he could hook up with whoever he wants on the weekends and wouldn't have to be seen with me in public, but we'd have constant companionship at night, when the loneliness is most profound. It's also hard to imagine what it would be like to lie in bed with someone and not be able to talk late into the night because I wear hearing aids and take them out. I'd know it's true love if he talked louder and whispered in my ear sweet things I could actually hear. In my fantasy I always imagine myself ignoring my crush during the day, and having him fall more and more for me as we spend more nights together, so that eventually we start texting and calling each other over break, and then we start a real relationship, with hand-holding, PDA, and all the fringe benefits. Wishful thinking? I just hate how hard relationships are. I want the love without the work, without the trust. Maybe someday my mind will be changed and some guy will want me badly enough to penetrate my shell. But for now, I don't believe I'm pretty enough, skinny enough, or interesting enough to be wanted. And I always fall for the unattainable, hot, older, popular guys, instead of settling for the uglier people (I know beauty is more than skin-deep, but I'm pretty shallow). Something about odd years just make me miserable, which is probably why I can't wait to see what 2012 brings. I keep expecting sudden, wonderful changes to occur, but they never do. Life goes on and I'm still the same old me. Just with more movies, more pomegranates, more fun times, more tears, and more insecurity about my body. Will I throw up the first time I go back to Catz? I bet I will, considering how long it's been since I've worked out. Thank God my body rejects most disgusting food I give it, or I'd be over 200 pounds right now (even if I am pretty darn close). Just breathe easy, study Greek, and onward to work at the Grill tomorrow. Whooo....

Post 2: Post-Thanksgiving Meditations

Every time I study for my Elementary Ancient Greek class, I get overwhelmed with the sheer amount of information I haven't learned. My professor is very passive-aggressive, and treats the whole class like idiots and never tries to individually help weaknesses of the students, even when there's only 8 students in the class. Thus, I still don't understand how accents changed, and he could have easily gone over the rules with me one-on-one but does not recognize the fact that I need help. So I fail the quizzes and barely pass the tests, and the best grade I can hope for in that class is a C. I have to say I don't really give a crap about my GPA, except I feel guilty for not giving a crap because grades and GPA are important for getting into grad school. Why does all my experiences, whether miserable, exhilarating, or merely bland get summed up into one neat little transcript that decides my future? Why are my parents paying so much money for me to have a crappy professor who doesn't care if the whole class fails? I keep saying I can't wait for the next 3 weeks to go by, but what am I going to do in the meantime? I'm slipping further and further out of the B range with no hope of an A any longer. I wish I didn't so much about grades, (scratch that, I was about to write "when I dread going to class every day" but I don't actually dread going to that class). Yes, I hate the professor, but I love translating Greek because it is an insane and tyrannical language that makes no sense, just like my professor. But at least the Greek isn't passive-aggressive towards students. I just want to have fun in college and read novels and watch T.V. shows, not have trouble sleeping because of stress over failing a test I haven't even taken yet. Somehow I feel encouraged though that this will all teach me a lesson and because I believe I have some chance of getting a B on the quiz tomorrow. The only parts I'm really worried about are the vocab and knowing what form the Aorist takes, because that verb form is a sneaky little fucker. Always I have to be grateful that I'm in a great school, I'm going on two free trips next year, and I have a great home. There's only 3 more weeks of this hellish class and then it's home sweet home where I will lose at least 20 pounds because I am overweight according to the BMI index, and because I feel disgusting everytime I eat, especially when it comes to good food. I no longer stick to Doctor Small's diet and I eat chocolate all the time. Oy gavey woman! There's something so therapeutic to just free-writing and formulating my thoughts as they follows sentences I've just written. I feel so much calmer now than when I first sat down to write this blog. I'll just prepare myself for bed and study a bit more Greek and then it's beddy bye bye. Whew! Thinking this much is exhausting!

Day 1 (Testing the Waters)

I'm curious to delve into depression and figure out whether or not I truly have a clinical condition. I have lots of ups and downs, and the worst moments are when I can't sleep because I don't think it's worth it to wake up in the morning. But right now, I feel GREAT! I got into the Berlin class, I'm seeing my best friend tomorrow, eating delicious food on Thanksgiving and this weekend, and I have two free trips next year! I'm SO lucky! But always in the back of my mind is my weight, looks, and feeling of inadequacy. What did I ever do to deserve all these riches and fortunes? Why can't I ever simply enjoy myself wholly and without any inhibitions? I think my latest bout was after reading Mockingjay, because Katniss's psychological condition rang so true for me and seemed to reflect my future. I'm not hopeful that I'll ever be married or have kids, and if I do, I want to make sure it's what I really want. The world is so messed up that my kids will constantly be cleaning up messes. Who wants to give birth in a world like this? But there's always something wrong with every era, and I guess technology and innovations are better than the Dark Ages. Yet, I don't want books to disappear and my kids to be using iPads in kindergarten. I don't want Congress to be corrupt, wars and protests to be rampant, Wall Street protesters angry at something that they do nothing to actually change. Why are humans so able to bring advancement and dependence on machines but not improve their own condition? It's amazing how many times I've thought about Atlas Shrugged since I read it in August. I want to be Dagny, the strong, intelligent woman desired by three men as the only love of their lives, and she gets roughed up but is unfazed. To even try to make a movie out of Atlas Shrugged is a huge mistake, because no actor cast could adequately fill Dagny, Francisco, Hank, or John's roles. Why try? So you can get 10% on Rotten Tomatoes? Ugh. I so desperately want to fix so many things wrong in the world but I feel so inadequate that I give up in despair, knowing my life will amount to nothing. I try to accept nihilism, but it simply isn't for me. I will always be agnostic because it can't be simple coincidence that men inhabited the Earth just when dinosaurs were going extinct and thus took over everything. But there's no way the Earth is as young as the Bible, Qaran, and other major religious texts say it is. Why ignore science?! As soon as you justify your control over the Earth you destroy it by not caring about polluting it and chopping down all its natural resources. How can we live with ourselves? We don't even eat natural food anymore. Everything is chemicalized to produce more and earn more money. Who cares about money? It just funds the rich even more in all channels and leaves none for us to enjoy for ourselves. I just want to travel, never settle down, and always carry a camera. Interview everybody and nobody, and figure out how we're all the same, no matter what tongue we speak, skin color we have, or mode of dress we don. Is that too hard to ask? : )