Hey! So I found this old poem from Freshman year... consequently it happens to be a Found Poem that I found. Haha. It's from Elie Weisel's Night. I read it and it's really not half bad... here you go:
Night: A loss of faith
Sophia Mirashrafi
Three gallows
Three black crows
Three victims in chains
One of them a young boy
The little servant
The sad-eyed angel
Sentenced to death
A merciless selection
A young boy in front of thousands
All eyes on the child
Lividly pale, almost calm
Gallows throw its shadow over him
The child is silent
Where is God?
Total silence.
Chairs tip over
We are weeping
Where is God?
Sun is setting
Struggling between life and death
Where is God?
Dying in slow agony
Where is God?
His tongue red
His eyes not yet glazed
Where is God?
He is hanging on the gallows
That night the soup tasted of corpses
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Pet Peeves
Hey sooo new background! Yay. Trees were cool but it was all so very green.
To counter my last list, I've decided to share the things that absolutely just get on my nerves. You know, like pet peeves. Why they are called this I have no idea. Never made sense to me. Some people tend to say that EVERYTHING gets on their nerves. And that can't be true! Not everything is bad. I mean, I'm not perfect. Far from it. There are somethings that, I don't know, just get under my skin. Let's list 25 shall we, to balance the happy things.
They are as follows:
Any more pet peeves? Let me know
To counter my last list, I've decided to share the things that absolutely just get on my nerves. You know, like pet peeves. Why they are called this I have no idea. Never made sense to me. Some people tend to say that EVERYTHING gets on their nerves. And that can't be true! Not everything is bad. I mean, I'm not perfect. Far from it. There are somethings that, I don't know, just get under my skin. Let's list 25 shall we, to balance the happy things.
They are as follows:
- Old movies when the driver never looks at the road.
- Condescending people
- When strangers touch you in a friendly way
- When people chew gum with their mouth open
- Facial twitches
- People picking their nose when they think no one's looking... but you are...
- PDA
- People who answer the phone with a color (i.e. "Yellow?")
- People who abbreviate words that should not be abbreviated (i.e. legit, fab, disgust)
- Facial Piercings.
- Body piercings
- Really loud high laughs
- Yapper dogs
- Monkeys
- People cheating off my test when they think I'm not looking
- Laziness
- Large people who walk slowly in the middle of the pavement.
- People who pronounce vehicle, VEE-HICKLE, or MOTOR-SICKLE
- Bigots
- Miley Cyrus
- Butterflies
- Windshield wipers
- People that don't understand the meaning of "personal space"
- Hypocrites
- People that complain about their pet peeves.
Any more pet peeves? Let me know
Monday, May 24, 2010
Natural High - Smile Dammit
So, I have been sitting here... procrastinating away, staring at my Spanish homework for about half an hour... and then my mind starts to wander.
Okay, that there in itself is a bad sign. Unlike, well, normal people, when my mind begins to wander strange things begin to float into my mind. Like, for example, pears and scalps and their strange similarity... Or ants and their disturbing fascination with wheat.
But this time I was making a list of natural highs. See, everyday in school people talk about getting "so totally buzzed" over the weekend and getting high off drugs or alcohol. Getting a thrill from something so harmful to your body that it's almost disgusting that it would ever be considered that doing that to yourself for 'fun'. Some people do it for the thrill, others for the status, or popularity, I guess. Or simply to reach that high and feel... good.
And so I decided to write down my list of simple highs that can be acted out easily and everyday, free of charge. These are 25 things that occur to me on a regular basis and make my life worth while I guess. Enjoy!
And I'm not saying you should to that everyday! Hell, I know there are some days were I have decided looong before I wake up that I'm going to be in a bad mood. It's called PMS. Being a teenager sucks. Moving on.
But on most days, waking up and deciding to feel grateful instead of resentful is sometimes all it takes to change a cloudy day into a bright one. The more you smile, the happier you'll be. It's like, scientifically proven, or something.
Life's a joke. Smile dammit.
Okay, that there in itself is a bad sign. Unlike, well, normal people, when my mind begins to wander strange things begin to float into my mind. Like, for example, pears and scalps and their strange similarity... Or ants and their disturbing fascination with wheat.
But this time I was making a list of natural highs. See, everyday in school people talk about getting "so totally buzzed" over the weekend and getting high off drugs or alcohol. Getting a thrill from something so harmful to your body that it's almost disgusting that it would ever be considered that doing that to yourself for 'fun'. Some people do it for the thrill, others for the status, or popularity, I guess. Or simply to reach that high and feel... good.
And so I decided to write down my list of simple highs that can be acted out easily and everyday, free of charge. These are 25 things that occur to me on a regular basis and make my life worth while I guess. Enjoy!
- A hot shower
- No lines at the supermarket
- Getting mail
- Running on a pretty road
- Hearing your favorite song on the radio
- Lying in bed and listening to the rain outside
- Hot towels fresh from the dryer
- Deep conversations
- Finding money in your coat that you forgot was there
- Laughing at yourself
- Running through sprinklers
- Laughing for no reason.
- Inside jokes
- Friends
- Waking up and realized you still have a few hours left to sleep
- Making new friends or spending time with old ones
- Hot coffee. Black baby.
- Swinging on swings
- Catching the eye of a cute stranger
- Homemade cookies
- The sunrise
- Good hugs
- The smell of pavement in the rain
- Rain in general
- Walking downtown with friends
And I'm not saying you should to that everyday! Hell, I know there are some days were I have decided looong before I wake up that I'm going to be in a bad mood. It's called PMS. Being a teenager sucks. Moving on.
But on most days, waking up and deciding to feel grateful instead of resentful is sometimes all it takes to change a cloudy day into a bright one. The more you smile, the happier you'll be. It's like, scientifically proven, or something.
Life's a joke. Smile dammit.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Silent Speech
You know, I've always been an animal person. Ever since before I can remember. I feel more comfortable around them than I do around people. This sounds a little hermit-ish, I'm not a complete loner. I just feel better when I'm with them.
The thing with animals is that they have no facade about them, no pretence. When they feel happiness or fear or anger they are quick to tell you, or more, show you. Animals always find a way of speaking to you and letting you know everything they have to say, without speaking a word. All you need to do is learn how to read them.
Take my horse. I've been with her long enough to understand her body language without thinking about it. The key to understanding her, horse for that matter, lies in the ears and in the eyes. I have a slight obsession with eyes, if my profile picture gives it away. They are traditionally the 'windows into the soul'. Cheesy as this sounds it really is the truth. People have developed the skills to shut off their eyes so that they are no longer readable. But with my horse, her eyes tell all.
The less likely way to read an animal, the ears, are probably one of the most important tools for a person to have. Take any emotion, fear, anger, curiosity, contentment... it's all in the ears. One of my favorite things about horses, in fact, is that when you talk to them, they use those ears and listen. I can come and just prattle on and on about my day and the people I meet and the things I do, and my horse's ear will be cocked in my direction the whole time. I'm the kind of person that lets the other person talk in the conversation. People like to talk about themselves and I like to say that I'm a pretty good listener, so I just let them talk. I learn it from my horse. Talking to my horse is really the only time that I talk about me and nothing else. And having someone listen to everything you say, even if it's stupid or boring, is addicting. She's like my own personal psychiatrist.
More on horses... One of my favorite things about riding, is that when you're on the horse, you are creating a connection that goes beyond words into this whole new language where you speak using your body: A shift in my seat, a twitch of my pinky finger, a slight flex of my calf... all of these things trigger some response in my horse. To have a whole conversation, asking and receiving, rewarding with a scratch to the neck, is to have trust on both sides of the bargain. The downside to this, however, is if you are afraid of something, your horse will feel that in your body, and be afraid of the thing as well. Say I'm really nervous about a jump and so my body tenses up and I begin to shake. There is no way in hell that my horse is going to jump that jump if she think that her rider is scared of it. As a rider, I learned to keep any fear or doubt locked tightly above the neck so that my body betrays nothing and therefore keeping my horse as calm as possible.
It's ludicrous to me that people still believe the misconception that horseback riding is merely sitting on a horse and pointing it in in the right direction and bouncing up and down as it obeys you.
That assumption is almost disgusting to me. Let me tell you right now, I do not own a sweet horse. She does not fawn over every person she sees, she does not let her opinion go unnoticed. To think that she is an obedient mare that does anything for anybody when they sit on her back is laughable. She cares for me and listens to me because I have worked four years to establish that kind of relationship with her. And let me tell you it wasn't easy. In fact, in the beginning, we didn't even like each other. I would almost dread riding her. She would go to kick me when I put on the saddle and bit me whenever my back was turned. But, what with me being crazily stubborn and her being just as opinionated, we gradually and grudgingly began to respect each other.
Then came the trust. True, it started out as me trusting her to try to bite me as I went to pick out her hoofs just as she trusted me to answer with a whack of my own. But eventually, I would trust that she would jump whatever I asked her to, because she would trust that I would not make her do anything that would get her in trouble. She doesn't do the things I ask her to because she fears me, or because she is a mindless drone, she does it because she trusts me, and we are a team.
That's another thing that I really hate. I hate it when people use the term "break" when they speak of teaching a new horse how to ride. "I've always wanted to break a horse and raise it myself". As if sitting on a bucking foal and whacking the crap out of him is how to train a young horse. My preferred term is to "start" a horse. Because that is really what is happening. You are starting a relationship, starting to form a team between you and your horse. A good horse does not have it's spirit broken, but instead has all that power and will flowing through the positive outlet of a common goal for you and your horse.
Horseback riding is not easy. Sitting on a horse is easy. Squeezing your legs to ask them to go faster is easy. Pulling on the rains to make them turn is easy. But riding - really riding - is something that is not easy to achieve. And unlike other sports it isn't just accomplished by practicing something over and over and over. Unlike a ball, a horse can kick back, a horse is 1000 pounds heavier than you, and it has it's own brain and opinions. Horseback riding is a constant giving and receiving of information, it is to be a leader who listens to the other side of the story.
To ride is to speak without saying a word.
The thing with animals is that they have no facade about them, no pretence. When they feel happiness or fear or anger they are quick to tell you, or more, show you. Animals always find a way of speaking to you and letting you know everything they have to say, without speaking a word. All you need to do is learn how to read them.
Take my horse. I've been with her long enough to understand her body language without thinking about it. The key to understanding her, horse for that matter, lies in the ears and in the eyes. I have a slight obsession with eyes, if my profile picture gives it away. They are traditionally the 'windows into the soul'. Cheesy as this sounds it really is the truth. People have developed the skills to shut off their eyes so that they are no longer readable. But with my horse, her eyes tell all.
The less likely way to read an animal, the ears, are probably one of the most important tools for a person to have. Take any emotion, fear, anger, curiosity, contentment... it's all in the ears. One of my favorite things about horses, in fact, is that when you talk to them, they use those ears and listen. I can come and just prattle on and on about my day and the people I meet and the things I do, and my horse's ear will be cocked in my direction the whole time. I'm the kind of person that lets the other person talk in the conversation. People like to talk about themselves and I like to say that I'm a pretty good listener, so I just let them talk. I learn it from my horse. Talking to my horse is really the only time that I talk about me and nothing else. And having someone listen to everything you say, even if it's stupid or boring, is addicting. She's like my own personal psychiatrist.
More on horses... One of my favorite things about riding, is that when you're on the horse, you are creating a connection that goes beyond words into this whole new language where you speak using your body: A shift in my seat, a twitch of my pinky finger, a slight flex of my calf... all of these things trigger some response in my horse. To have a whole conversation, asking and receiving, rewarding with a scratch to the neck, is to have trust on both sides of the bargain. The downside to this, however, is if you are afraid of something, your horse will feel that in your body, and be afraid of the thing as well. Say I'm really nervous about a jump and so my body tenses up and I begin to shake. There is no way in hell that my horse is going to jump that jump if she think that her rider is scared of it. As a rider, I learned to keep any fear or doubt locked tightly above the neck so that my body betrays nothing and therefore keeping my horse as calm as possible.
It's ludicrous to me that people still believe the misconception that horseback riding is merely sitting on a horse and pointing it in in the right direction and bouncing up and down as it obeys you.
That assumption is almost disgusting to me. Let me tell you right now, I do not own a sweet horse. She does not fawn over every person she sees, she does not let her opinion go unnoticed. To think that she is an obedient mare that does anything for anybody when they sit on her back is laughable. She cares for me and listens to me because I have worked four years to establish that kind of relationship with her. And let me tell you it wasn't easy. In fact, in the beginning, we didn't even like each other. I would almost dread riding her. She would go to kick me when I put on the saddle and bit me whenever my back was turned. But, what with me being crazily stubborn and her being just as opinionated, we gradually and grudgingly began to respect each other.
Then came the trust. True, it started out as me trusting her to try to bite me as I went to pick out her hoofs just as she trusted me to answer with a whack of my own. But eventually, I would trust that she would jump whatever I asked her to, because she would trust that I would not make her do anything that would get her in trouble. She doesn't do the things I ask her to because she fears me, or because she is a mindless drone, she does it because she trusts me, and we are a team.
That's another thing that I really hate. I hate it when people use the term "break" when they speak of teaching a new horse how to ride. "I've always wanted to break a horse and raise it myself". As if sitting on a bucking foal and whacking the crap out of him is how to train a young horse. My preferred term is to "start" a horse. Because that is really what is happening. You are starting a relationship, starting to form a team between you and your horse. A good horse does not have it's spirit broken, but instead has all that power and will flowing through the positive outlet of a common goal for you and your horse.
Horseback riding is not easy. Sitting on a horse is easy. Squeezing your legs to ask them to go faster is easy. Pulling on the rains to make them turn is easy. But riding - really riding - is something that is not easy to achieve. And unlike other sports it isn't just accomplished by practicing something over and over and over. Unlike a ball, a horse can kick back, a horse is 1000 pounds heavier than you, and it has it's own brain and opinions. Horseback riding is a constant giving and receiving of information, it is to be a leader who listens to the other side of the story.
To ride is to speak without saying a word.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Fanny Packs: Fashion Scare? Or Possibly the Greatest Invention Ever?
Okay. I'm not gonna lie. I am kind of in love with fanny packs. You know what I'm talking about. Possibly the ugliest garment ever placed on the anatomy of a human being, with a name to match, it is this bag that is tied around your waist and rests gently on your, uh, fanny. Hence, fanny pack.
So, the reason I'm in love with them? They're like the most practical thing ever. So much stuff fits in them and they are right at your waist. It's so marsupial-esk.
I went on a trail ride today and my mom tossed me this giant blue blob of a bag. I looked at her incredulously.
Seriously? Thanks Mom.
But really, it never got in the way while I was on my horse and I could just stuff my phone, iPod, and keys in there and I was good to go. Hell, I even squeezed a book in there. And a piece of candy. (It was a long car ride okay?)
But there was no issue. I barely felt it there. Think about it! If we could somehow make fanny packs 'in' life would be so much more convenient. All of your stuff is at your waist! And so much stuff fits! Plus it's much harder to pick-pocket money from a fanny pack.
I've decided that it's my short-term mission in life to seek out a fanny pack that looks good. Or at least as good as something with the name of 'fanny pack' can look.
So, the reason I'm in love with them? They're like the most practical thing ever. So much stuff fits in them and they are right at your waist. It's so marsupial-esk.
I went on a trail ride today and my mom tossed me this giant blue blob of a bag. I looked at her incredulously.
Seriously? Thanks Mom.
But really, it never got in the way while I was on my horse and I could just stuff my phone, iPod, and keys in there and I was good to go. Hell, I even squeezed a book in there. And a piece of candy. (It was a long car ride okay?)
But there was no issue. I barely felt it there. Think about it! If we could somehow make fanny packs 'in' life would be so much more convenient. All of your stuff is at your waist! And so much stuff fits! Plus it's much harder to pick-pocket money from a fanny pack.
I've decided that it's my short-term mission in life to seek out a fanny pack that looks good. Or at least as good as something with the name of 'fanny pack' can look.
Fanny Packs.
Are they really as bad as they seem?
Or are we just judging a book by it's cover?
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Think Fast
Hey, so I haven't written in forever I know. This week has been hectic. You know, the week before Spring Break, teachers are all a-frenzie, tossing homework and projects at their students like monkeys flinging poo.
Good image. Moving on.
This week, as we all know, was St. Patrick’s day. This day always pisses me off. Like, I have total respect for the original meaning of the day. You know, the snakes fleeing Ireland and all that. But now - obviously - on this day people must wear the color green. This makes complete sense. (?)
Personally, I think that the only reason this 'holiday' is celebrated by students just for an excuse to injure their peers. See, if you don't wear green, you basically get attacked and pinched and bruised by the end of the day. And this is accepted as fine. Am I bitter? Slightly.
Anyway, every year, at my godmother's house, we have a St. Patrick's Day party. Cool down, it's okay. Their actually Irish. My sister and I are usually the only younglings there and the party mostly consisted of adults that were vaguely familiar to me from past parties my godmother had. They're all nice and the conversation can get quite interesting.
There was one man there, my godmother's older brother, who was particularly intriguing. He spoke of his travels to Africa. Ohhhhh my God.
Random Fact About Sophia: I really, REALLY want to go to Africa. To the dismay of my parents.
Anyway, this guy was talking about how he went to Kenya on this all-inclusive trip. He described how beautiful his hotel had been, and the animals had been fantastic.
"But," he added, the smile slipping off his face, his eyes unfocusing as he remembered, "as we exited the hotel and glimpsed what was happening on the streets, it was like someone had flipped on a switch." He described the extreme poverty and children struggling to reach their next meal, let alone the end of the day.
The conversation ended there, as if because of that, my desire to travel there would abate as soon as I heard this. I didn't push the subject. Instead I checked out mentally for a while to think.
I am at a huge impasse when it comes to this. I react in very consistent way whenever I hear or see situations where people suffer. In Global Studies class last year, we would watch videos of Hiroshima, or slavery, or the Holocaust and how people were being mistreated, tortured, killed. Some people in the class detached themselves from the subject and were unaffected, some became very sad. Me? I became livid. Like, red face, hard breathing furious. I don't know why, but I felt an undeniable need to stop their pain. To go up to the monsters causing these people such suffering and punch them in the face. Forcibly make them pay for what they were doing. I would leave the classroom with my hands clenched in fists.
That was me watching a video.
What would I do if I was mere feet away from a starving child? A dying man? And worse...what would I do if I couldn't do anything to stop it? It's a sick feeling, a powerless feeling. And I hate it.
But then there is the 'other hand.' And it is not even an option. The other hand, is to ignore it all together. To keep it out of sight and out of mind in ignorant bliss. I feel like this is the ultimate form of cowardice. To pretend that nothing is happening so I can carry on living my little life without any problems other than my next Chemistry test.
The ‘other hand’ is sickening. But it is also a frighteningly accurate description of some people view in the world.
And yet, as many people are quick to point out, what am I going to do about it? Me. The powerless little 16 year old who sits on my thrown of comfort and criticizes how people treat others. "What can you do to make a difference, Sophia?"
What do you say to that? As children, we dream of becoming astronauts or inventors or heroes that save the world. But as we grow older, more and more dreams we had as children prove themselves to be false. First, Santa doesn't exist. The tooth fairy isn’t actually real either. Then you find out that you didn't actually come from a Stork like you thought you did. But then it gets more serious. You learn that not everyone is kind. People kill other people. The good guy doesn't always come out of the battle alive. And there are millions upon millions of people dying everyday from things that seem trivial to us. Things like water and food and shelter.
And...I can do nothing.
And I'm not saying that I can literally do nothing. Sure, I can save my pennies and sent it to Africa or Haiti. And I will make my little difference. And that is good and helpful and everyone should do it. It is possible to help other people. But I'm talking about fixing it. Everything. Stopping all of the stupid deaths and unnecessary pain that is inflicted on people everyday.
I have been staring at this screen for 10 minutes trying to think of something lighthearted and witty to say. Something that will cause you to smile and forget of this heavy and daunting subject. Count on me to help you out of this hole that I’ve dug with these words.
But I can't do that.
So instead I'll leave you with a thought. A question.
The world becomes darker and darker as we rise from our shelter of adolescence. If ignoring suffering is not an option, yet you are powerless to fix the whole problem and protect every man, woman, and child in need of aid, where does that put you? And how long do we have to ponder this question before all hope for saving these people is gone?
Better think fast.
Good image. Moving on.
This week, as we all know, was St. Patrick’s day. This day always pisses me off. Like, I have total respect for the original meaning of the day. You know, the snakes fleeing Ireland and all that. But now - obviously - on this day people must wear the color green. This makes complete sense. (?)
Personally, I think that the only reason this 'holiday' is celebrated by students just for an excuse to injure their peers. See, if you don't wear green, you basically get attacked and pinched and bruised by the end of the day. And this is accepted as fine. Am I bitter? Slightly.
Anyway, every year, at my godmother's house, we have a St. Patrick's Day party. Cool down, it's okay. Their actually Irish. My sister and I are usually the only younglings there and the party mostly consisted of adults that were vaguely familiar to me from past parties my godmother had. They're all nice and the conversation can get quite interesting.
There was one man there, my godmother's older brother, who was particularly intriguing. He spoke of his travels to Africa. Ohhhhh my God.
Random Fact About Sophia: I really, REALLY want to go to Africa. To the dismay of my parents.
Anyway, this guy was talking about how he went to Kenya on this all-inclusive trip. He described how beautiful his hotel had been, and the animals had been fantastic.
"But," he added, the smile slipping off his face, his eyes unfocusing as he remembered, "as we exited the hotel and glimpsed what was happening on the streets, it was like someone had flipped on a switch." He described the extreme poverty and children struggling to reach their next meal, let alone the end of the day.
The conversation ended there, as if because of that, my desire to travel there would abate as soon as I heard this. I didn't push the subject. Instead I checked out mentally for a while to think.
I am at a huge impasse when it comes to this. I react in very consistent way whenever I hear or see situations where people suffer. In Global Studies class last year, we would watch videos of Hiroshima, or slavery, or the Holocaust and how people were being mistreated, tortured, killed. Some people in the class detached themselves from the subject and were unaffected, some became very sad. Me? I became livid. Like, red face, hard breathing furious. I don't know why, but I felt an undeniable need to stop their pain. To go up to the monsters causing these people such suffering and punch them in the face. Forcibly make them pay for what they were doing. I would leave the classroom with my hands clenched in fists.
That was me watching a video.
What would I do if I was mere feet away from a starving child? A dying man? And worse...what would I do if I couldn't do anything to stop it? It's a sick feeling, a powerless feeling. And I hate it.
But then there is the 'other hand.' And it is not even an option. The other hand, is to ignore it all together. To keep it out of sight and out of mind in ignorant bliss. I feel like this is the ultimate form of cowardice. To pretend that nothing is happening so I can carry on living my little life without any problems other than my next Chemistry test.
The ‘other hand’ is sickening. But it is also a frighteningly accurate description of some people view in the world.
And yet, as many people are quick to point out, what am I going to do about it? Me. The powerless little 16 year old who sits on my thrown of comfort and criticizes how people treat others. "What can you do to make a difference, Sophia?"
What do you say to that? As children, we dream of becoming astronauts or inventors or heroes that save the world. But as we grow older, more and more dreams we had as children prove themselves to be false. First, Santa doesn't exist. The tooth fairy isn’t actually real either. Then you find out that you didn't actually come from a Stork like you thought you did. But then it gets more serious. You learn that not everyone is kind. People kill other people. The good guy doesn't always come out of the battle alive. And there are millions upon millions of people dying everyday from things that seem trivial to us. Things like water and food and shelter.
And...I can do nothing.
And I'm not saying that I can literally do nothing. Sure, I can save my pennies and sent it to Africa or Haiti. And I will make my little difference. And that is good and helpful and everyone should do it. It is possible to help other people. But I'm talking about fixing it. Everything. Stopping all of the stupid deaths and unnecessary pain that is inflicted on people everyday.
I have been staring at this screen for 10 minutes trying to think of something lighthearted and witty to say. Something that will cause you to smile and forget of this heavy and daunting subject. Count on me to help you out of this hole that I’ve dug with these words.
But I can't do that.
So instead I'll leave you with a thought. A question.
The world becomes darker and darker as we rise from our shelter of adolescence. If ignoring suffering is not an option, yet you are powerless to fix the whole problem and protect every man, woman, and child in need of aid, where does that put you? And how long do we have to ponder this question before all hope for saving these people is gone?
Better think fast.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The Dreams That You Wish Will Come True (as long as you have talking mice and a fairy godmother, that is)
Okay. Let's be honest with each other here. Mr. Disney is teaching some pretty despicable things to our youth if you think about it. I mean, look at his classics:
Would Cinderella really have gotten anywhere without the aid of her rodent friends and her imaginary godmother (who is actually insane, by the way. Bippity-boppity-boo? Really? C'mon woman) The answer is no. The mice help her DRESS every morning. The mice made the pink dress. And get the key from the evil stepmother in the end. The figment of dearest Cindy's imagination (the godmother) is the one that got her the pretty dress and turned a pumpkin (ew) into a freaken carriage!! Really, Cinderella never gets off her ass the entire movie. All she does is sing, clean some floors on her knees, feed some chickens, sing, have her dress ripped apart, cry, get bippityboppityboo-ed, ride in a pumpkin, dance a lot (A LOT), sing, go home, get locked up, cry, then put on a shoe. Sing. The end. The only actions that she actually carries out are cleaning, singing, and crying. Is that the message we're trying to send young girls in our society?? Cry, clean, and sing, and mice will come to carry you to a prince and a happily ever after? Not only is that incredibly unsanitary, it's down right archaic.
And don't get me started on the shoe business. This prince is as dumb as a doorknob. The story from his point of view, is basically as follows: He sees this girl across a crowded room and falls in love with her (judge by appearances much?) Then he's too much of a prissy to actually catch up with her as she runs away. I mean, thinking objectively here, he's in fairly comfortable shoes and pants and she's in a gown with glass high heels... and yet she outruns him?? Methinks something is amiss here. In fact, princey, it's kind of embarrassing.
So what does our gallant prince do? Ah-ha! A brilliant idea occurs to him! Since she has clumsily dropped one of her glass slippers, he'll just have his manservant go around the entire kingdom and try it on all of young maidens and then, THEN he will find his love. Hmmm... this tells us two things. One: He doesn't remember what the hell she looks like, so he'll have to go by shoe size. And two: He doesn't realize that there might be the faintest teensiest possibility that some girls HAVE THE SAME SIZE FEET. I mean for god's sake! So now on top of all of the pressures set on young girls nowadays, now they have to worry about their feet.
Life lessons learned from Cinderella:
1) Talk to mice. They make pretty dresses.
2) Uncomfortable shoes help find husbands.
3) Make sure no one has the same size feet as you.
4) Sing, clean, and cry and good things will happen to you.
5) If you hallucinate and see an insane old woman who speaks in three-year-old language, it's okay. She's your fairy godmother.
6) Without a prince, there is no happily ever after.
7) If you sit around and wait for long enough, mice and hallucinations will occur, and you dreams will come true!
Part Two
How about Snow White? Firstly, can I just say how much that name pisses me off? It's like unoriginality at its greatest. I mean, I know the mother was gonna die and all so she really didn't have long to thumb through the "What to name the Baby" book. But really, basing the name on skin color? If you follow that logic, most babies would be called "Sickly Green", "Beat Red" or "Putrid Purple". Now that would liven up school attendance... And what about the dwarfs!? Dopey? Grumpy? What does that do to their self esteem I wonder?
Sorry, back on topic. Is it just me, or is it AMAZINGLY creepy that it is accepted as okay that this guy who very much resembles a woman, hears this girl sing (in a very wobbly and annoying voice) and falls in love her, never actually seeing her. Then months later he finds this dead chick in a glass case (what is it with Disney and his glass fetish?) guarded by midgets, and on a whim decides to make out with said dead chick, who then randomly wakes up (to this stranger making out with her) and then they're both like MY LOVE! And gallop off into the sunset without so much as a word spoken to each other!
Now how long is that marriage going to last I wonder?
And here again! Our lovely heroin has the surprising job of CLEANING and SINGING.
Seeing a pattern here?
I'd say that from Snow White we learn that:
1) If you find a strange house in the woods, it's okay to go sleep in the beds as long as they're really small.
2) Small people have very one way personalities and are named thus.
3) Once again, cleaning and singing prevail.
4) It's okay to eat a pie that a bird has used it's feet to make the crust with. (Just don't tell the health inspectors)
5) Animal control doesn't answer calls in Snow White's neck of the woods.
6) If you fall into a coma and wake to find a strange, girlish man 3 inches away from you, calm down. He's your true love.
and 7) Don't eat apples. They're bad.
Walt (can I call you Walt?), I love you man. But your original movies are kind of insulting to my gender. If you ever wake from your frozen death, just know that women have a stronger roll in society now. I just wish that Cinderella and Snow White weren't the first women that we see as little girls.
Speaking for myself, I suck at cooking and cleaning. I do archery. I can ride a horse and punch better then most guys in my school. And anytime I wear heels, I fall. In a nutshell, I kind of fail at being a girl.
But seriously, don't let Disney's portrayal of women get you down. Sure they're pretty. But honestly, I'd take an episode of Robin Hood (BBC version of course), Batman, or Lord Of The Rings over a princess any day.
Dreams do come true, but you gotta get off you butt and make it happen.
Would Cinderella really have gotten anywhere without the aid of her rodent friends and her imaginary godmother (who is actually insane, by the way. Bippity-boppity-boo? Really? C'mon woman) The answer is no. The mice help her DRESS every morning. The mice made the pink dress. And get the key from the evil stepmother in the end. The figment of dearest Cindy's imagination (the godmother) is the one that got her the pretty dress and turned a pumpkin (ew) into a freaken carriage!! Really, Cinderella never gets off her ass the entire movie. All she does is sing, clean some floors on her knees, feed some chickens, sing, have her dress ripped apart, cry, get bippityboppityboo-ed, ride in a pumpkin, dance a lot (A LOT), sing, go home, get locked up, cry, then put on a shoe. Sing. The end. The only actions that she actually carries out are cleaning, singing, and crying. Is that the message we're trying to send young girls in our society?? Cry, clean, and sing, and mice will come to carry you to a prince and a happily ever after? Not only is that incredibly unsanitary, it's down right archaic.
And don't get me started on the shoe business. This prince is as dumb as a doorknob. The story from his point of view, is basically as follows: He sees this girl across a crowded room and falls in love with her (judge by appearances much?) Then he's too much of a prissy to actually catch up with her as she runs away. I mean, thinking objectively here, he's in fairly comfortable shoes and pants and she's in a gown with glass high heels... and yet she outruns him?? Methinks something is amiss here. In fact, princey, it's kind of embarrassing.
So what does our gallant prince do? Ah-ha! A brilliant idea occurs to him! Since she has clumsily dropped one of her glass slippers, he'll just have his manservant go around the entire kingdom and try it on all of young maidens and then, THEN he will find his love. Hmmm... this tells us two things. One: He doesn't remember what the hell she looks like, so he'll have to go by shoe size. And two: He doesn't realize that there might be the faintest teensiest possibility that some girls HAVE THE SAME SIZE FEET. I mean for god's sake! So now on top of all of the pressures set on young girls nowadays, now they have to worry about their feet.
Life lessons learned from Cinderella:
1) Talk to mice. They make pretty dresses.
2) Uncomfortable shoes help find husbands.
3) Make sure no one has the same size feet as you.
4) Sing, clean, and cry and good things will happen to you.
5) If you hallucinate and see an insane old woman who speaks in three-year-old language, it's okay. She's your fairy godmother.
6) Without a prince, there is no happily ever after.
7) If you sit around and wait for long enough, mice and hallucinations will occur, and you dreams will come true!
Part Two
How about Snow White? Firstly, can I just say how much that name pisses me off? It's like unoriginality at its greatest. I mean, I know the mother was gonna die and all so she really didn't have long to thumb through the "What to name the Baby" book. But really, basing the name on skin color? If you follow that logic, most babies would be called "Sickly Green", "Beat Red" or "Putrid Purple". Now that would liven up school attendance... And what about the dwarfs!? Dopey? Grumpy? What does that do to their self esteem I wonder?
Sorry, back on topic. Is it just me, or is it AMAZINGLY creepy that it is accepted as okay that this guy who very much resembles a woman, hears this girl sing (in a very wobbly and annoying voice) and falls in love her, never actually seeing her. Then months later he finds this dead chick in a glass case (what is it with Disney and his glass fetish?) guarded by midgets, and on a whim decides to make out with said dead chick, who then randomly wakes up (to this stranger making out with her) and then they're both like MY LOVE! And gallop off into the sunset without so much as a word spoken to each other!
Now how long is that marriage going to last I wonder?
And here again! Our lovely heroin has the surprising job of CLEANING and SINGING.
Seeing a pattern here?
I'd say that from Snow White we learn that:
1) If you find a strange house in the woods, it's okay to go sleep in the beds as long as they're really small.
2) Small people have very one way personalities and are named thus.
3) Once again, cleaning and singing prevail.
4) It's okay to eat a pie that a bird has used it's feet to make the crust with. (Just don't tell the health inspectors)
5) Animal control doesn't answer calls in Snow White's neck of the woods.
6) If you fall into a coma and wake to find a strange, girlish man 3 inches away from you, calm down. He's your true love.
and 7) Don't eat apples. They're bad.
Walt (can I call you Walt?), I love you man. But your original movies are kind of insulting to my gender. If you ever wake from your frozen death, just know that women have a stronger roll in society now. I just wish that Cinderella and Snow White weren't the first women that we see as little girls.
Speaking for myself, I suck at cooking and cleaning. I do archery. I can ride a horse and punch better then most guys in my school. And anytime I wear heels, I fall. In a nutshell, I kind of fail at being a girl.
But seriously, don't let Disney's portrayal of women get you down. Sure they're pretty. But honestly, I'd take an episode of Robin Hood (BBC version of course), Batman, or Lord Of The Rings over a princess any day.
Dreams do come true, but you gotta get off you butt and make it happen.
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