...that's the message that is consistently delivered to me and the rest of the population courtesy of society.
I'm going to take a minute to grouse about this because it's a tough issue with me, I guess. I got on this topic by watching the following video, a Tide commercial:
The premise is this: a pert and pretty mom is sitting in her immaculate and largely florally decorated living room while her daughter plays with blocks on the floor wearing a camo hoodie and cargo shorts. She proceeds to express disdain for her daughter's clothes, her daughter's unwillingness to wear pink, and unhappiness with the fact that Tide properly cleaned the clothes (preventing her from having an excuse to throw them out).
I know the message I'm supposed to take away from this is, "haha, it's amusing because Tide did what it was supposed to do." But all I can think when I watch it is, "Wow. Way to portray tomboyishness as something to be disdained and alienate those of us who were/are tomboys. Screw you, Tide, for your unfunny contribution to making girls feel bad about being anything other than a helpless pink-wearing housewife." and that, of course, is the comment I ended up leaving on the video, but I have so much more to say on the topic...forgive me a moment to pour my little heart out.( This bothers me. Why is it bad to be different?Collapse )
So, I'm going to use LJ to vent for a minute.
LJ FOR VENT, WHO KNEW
Not about super emo shit though, I guess. At least, not stupid super-personal emo shit.
I went to Sean's sister's apartment this evening for probably the second time tonight. I know she has a terrible, terrible roommate. Her roommate refuses to get her cat spayed and has a bird she basically neglects. I'm already disgusted by how she treats her cat. I feel powerless to do anything. Well, tonight I took a special interest in the bird because I had the time. The poor thing was nipping at me and OBVIOUSLY extremely stressed out, but I talked gently to it and moved slowly and eventually it let me pet it. Once I did, it calmed down and smoothed out its feathers and heartbreakingly seemed to accept me and allow me to give it the love and attention it so obviously deserves. I saw a glimmer of starved happiness in it. The cage was filthy. The bird is obviously neglected. And it's obviously not a mean bird by nature, I demonstrated that tonight, it just needs a little love.
This completely breaks my heart. I hope you know how badly this breaks my heart. I wish I could take it home with me tonight and give it the love and attention it so desperately needs.
This bird does NOT deserve this. It doesn't deserve it one bit. I'm going to ask Sean's sister to ask her roommate if she is willing to give up the bird. If not, I will ask her if she will take money for it.
The bird does NOT deserve this. ;____; *heart-broken* I don't know if I can forgive myself if I can't do anything to help it.
I was talking to Blackwell
about poetry and remembered/dug up this little love poem I wrote a while back. Sort of an experiment and throwback to one of my favorite styles...verbose, semi-Emily-Dickinson-esque, and with pleasing rhymes and modest alliteration where possible. I'm actually a little proud of it so I thought it deserved to be posted!Untitledby Shara
A swear unto the barren air
I make aloud, whereby
No matter the many miles or months
That may between us lie,
Much like the stone in tempest tides
(And placid sea the same)
By virtue of its anchorage
Releases not its claim,
Endures the brine and tumult,
And evinces no throe
So too will I preserve my grasp
Unless you bid me go.
If verity survives my youth,
Fate's arrows, and her slings,
I could perhaps dissuade your flight
Despite your mighty wings.
I still write the odd bit of poetry. Heavy emphasis on the "odd."
How Fluffy Was My Kitten's Tail
How fluffy was my kitten's tail;
How soft her furry mane.
How gossamer her patterned back--
How other cats seem plain.
And though no man shall know her soul
And likely nor shall I,
I shall pet her; she shall purr,
As forward the years go by.
I'm uh, going to try to make more public entries and less private me-only entries. Time for a quick dream recap! This was a weird/vivid/entertaining one so I thought I'd write it down. It gets really good starting at paragraph 2.
In one part of the dream, I'm reading a Sherlock Holmes compilation. It's a lot of his best works, though I haven't read most of them. The one I'm currently getting into is a Jack-the-Ripper-esque story about murder, with the villain being a psychotic ex-con named Mike. He carries all sorts of weapons and thrashes violently with them at his victims in dark alleys and abandoned side streets under cover of night. The next thing I know, I'm in the story, and the city (London, perhaps?) has that noir Batman-style quality. I'm alone in an alley, and being followed by an insidious figure that I instinctively know must be Mike. After a few long, tense minutes of me slipping in and out of alleys, ducking around corners, and fleeing as fast as I can trying to escape my pursuer, I get cornered at a dead end. Cast in shadow, Mike starts coming at me, flailing chains and spiked weapons. I'm sure I'm going to die. Trying to deflect the weapons, I recoil to the furthest end of the alley.
Later. There is a war going on. Some cattle have become sentient for whatever reason, and are evil. We call them "zombie cows," due to the nature of it...I believe it happened such that a cow would die and a parasite or other evil influence would take over its body and reanimate it. Weighing far more than a human and bent on their destruction, the zombie cows are a formidable foe. Many of them are semi-anthropomorphic, capable of walking on two legs and using their hooves like hands, with dexterity. I find myself in a warehouse with two or three other allies, armed with an RPG and grenade launcher. We are fighting a single zombie cow who is also armed. I fire two RPGs at the cow, managing a decent proximity, but the cow is for the most part unharmed. We all duck into a hall off the main storage area, and as we regroup amongst crates and boxes and machinery, a hand grenade comes ricocheting around the corner. I dodge away from it, but more keep coming, wreaking destruction as they detonate. I realize they have a fairly long fuse, though, maybe five or ten seconds, so I run out and clumsily grab the next one that rolls around the corner. Mentally, I'm freaking out, sure that the thing is going to blow up in my hands. I'm lucky, though, and have enough time to toss it back at the evil bovine and take cover before it detonates. It doesn't do much damage, but buys us enough time to escape out the back.
I regroup with an ally outside, perhaps Shelly or Jenny. We have a massive chalkboard before us, on which to draw battle plans and work out tactics. On the backside of the chalkboard are some tall, impregnable shrubs, and to our backs on the side the chalkboard faces, a grassy knoll. Across that is a highway, and on the other side, a pasture with cattle. As we discuss our next battle plan, scrawling things out on the board, I look to the pasture and notice one extremely large cow lumbering around on two legs, and wearing an extremely ornate headdress and robe of turquoise, yellow, and red. A zombie cow! And not just any zombie cow, a very powerful zombie cow shaman. Not only is he bigger than a normal zombie cow, which would already be a fearsome enemy, but he wields all sorts of black magic. By this point, the Z.C.s have amassed a brainwashed human army to do their menial legwork, and as we draw on the blackboard, a uniformed man with close-shorn blond hair emerges from behind the shrubs and grabs me. I struggle, knowing he's in allegiance with the Z.C.s, but he quiets the two of us and explains that he is a turncoat, that he wants out of their execrable coup. We believe him. As we stand talking to him, I notice that a bunch of other Z.C. human soldiers are erecting a brick wall around the chalkboard, as a means of hiding our perceived heresy and rebellion from the view of the pasture.
Loudly, I call out, "Wow, thank you guys! This will make it so much easier to develop our tactics without anyone knowing!" I'm using it as reverse psychology, because I don't actually want it bricked up for whatever reason, and it works. They halt construction and begin confusedly bickering with one another. The Z.C. human we had befriended before leads us out into the grassy knoll to meet some other human sympathizers. One of them is my old friend Cody, and a few others that I have never met before. They're tossing a football around as a sign of good will, and I join in, though I don't know how to throw a football correctly. I ask someone to show me, but I just can't seem to do it. Even so, it's a relaxing diversion from the otherwise oppressive tide of war.
Weird dream, yes? It was pretty vivid and entertaining, so I thought I'd write it down. I'm not sure from whence most of it came, I suspect the tortilla casserole I made last night was at least partially to blame. That and the creepy-as-hell Underworld level of Paper Mario. That was some eerie stuff, man, I was officially creeped out by the River Twygz (lol see what they did there). Disembodied skeleton hands and disturbing whispery music floating through a river of sinners' tears. That's pretty dark for Mario, right?
Sean and I went and saw Tron: Legacy
on Wednesday night (for free lul) and it was...meh. The soundtrack was amazingly great, the visuals were top notch, but to me the acting fell far short and the plot had more holes than a golf course. I can't not talk about it, so my plot qualms that may contain spoilers will be in light gray
. My favorite scenes were the light cycle scenes and the light jet scenes. I want a portable glowing X-wing. I found the main character (played by Garrett Hedlund) to be a complete douchebag, though. He's supposed to be 27 and dresses/has hair and attitude like a bratty 13-year-old...it was very dissonant, visually. I can't really hate Jeff Bridges, but I think that's just because of The Men Who Stare at Goats
. Far out, maaaan. I have approximately 32,767 complaints about plot points that don't make any damn sense, but I sort of get that it's a ~80's technology movie~ remake. Here are the top gripes, though, just to cover a few: 1) How are they running all that on circa 1980's machines? I know they've had 20 years to perfect the code, but even so, that would be sort of like trying to run the Crysis engine on a Commodore 64. The hardware just can't cut it. 2) Apparently playing an Atari-style arcade game in the 80's makes Garrett Hedlund a skilled martial artist on the Grid, brandishing those discs like a boss. How does that work exactly? I'm pretty sure your average person, even your average gamer, would have ate shit at the hands of highly skilled programs that are, I dunno, trained to do that. 3) Why did Tron try to kill them for the whole movie and then at the very end suddenly just decide he likes users after all? And why did he make weird growly clicking noises up until that point? 4) How exactly does a program manifest itself into a human in the real world? How does that work? And even with an army of them, how do they plan on taking over the world without any real weapons? Where did Quorra's new clothes come from when she went to the real world??
I know I'm pretty picky about what I consider a "good" movie or not, and I would probably enjoy them more if I could just not think about the WHY of everything, but...come on, people, you're not even trying. It HAS to make some level of sense. :| It was still an enjoyable movie and I'm totally buying the soundtrack, but I don't think I'll buy the movie itself or watch it again. You know one thing I give them props on though? Quorra was not a sassy bitch/whore. I like female lead characters that can be strong and pretty and smart without being sassy tarts or sex objects. So kudos on that, Hollywood mostly only ever fucks that up these days.
Aight, art time.( art Collapse )
I'll be attending Furry Fiesta next month, and I'm working on fursuits for soulshelter
(despite what he says, he'll like it and have fun), and helping neoscottie
making one. Pics of that when they're done. Next month also has my trip to Hawaii in store...can't wait to go diving!!...and my first appointment with my therapist, so that will be interesting...for those of you that don't know, I saw my doctor and started on some anti-depressants so I'm feeling better since some of my semi-recent miserable entries, thank you all for your concern. Busy busy month ahead. Should be awesome!! Oh yeah and yesterday I had the most epic relaxing bubble bath ever complete with good book, glass of wine, and candles. Mmmm. That is all.