My eyes are not made of glass
Blood runs through my veins I feel most comfortable in jeans I've never liked the look of pigtails on me Too much make-up makes me grimace My thoughts run rampant They keep me up at night My body is not porcelain Though it has felt delicate and broken My hands sometimes ting with pain From hard work I've spent my life on I have free will and a desire to use it My soul seeks more than a white picket fence My feet get vibrations They demand to move often My lips are not glossy or bright But rather a real nude pink that have words to articulate I cannot be obtained, I am not for keeping I am no one's doll - Searching For An Equal
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On July 5, 2018, I deleted all of my social media apps from my iphone. I didn't delete my accounts from those apps, just the icons themselves. After months of pondering this idea, having already done it with Facebook about a year prior, I felt it was time more than ever. What drove me to finally take that action? Lots of beer, a few fireworks over the Manhattan skyline viewed from a Brooklyn apartment rooftop, and some poor decisions that followed.
As a 28-year-old female, I am somewhat embarrassed to say that I still sometimes make mistakes that I've already made. In theory, I should have already learned from these mistakes, yet my heart and brain still like to duke it out every now and then. When my heart's desires are victorious, trouble often ensues. So, after a certain 4th of July encounter with a young man whom I already know has no intentions to date me seriously, I decided it was time to start taking steps to preserve and positively influence my mental health. Among these steps included writing a little vision board of goals on an index card, deleting my social media applications, and focusing on the present. While I was not sure what to expect next, I felt good about the array of possibilities these actions could bring about. It has only been a little over 2 weeks but here is what I've noticed so far: 1.) Some of my anxiety has been diminished from what I believe was caused by what I'll call "Absent-mindedly Clicking Apps." 2.) The few moments that I've found myself feeling like I'm missing out, I sign in briefly on Instagram or Facebook in a web browser and get bored almost immediately. This was a very exciting realization. 3.) While it is fun to see what adventures my friends are getting into, compulsively comparing my life theirs comes with that. This excessive comparing cannot be good for our minds. Cutting down on this has felt good. 4.) Sometimes I miss my sister-in-law's posts of my niece and nephew. Not a big deal...just means I'll have to reach out to her individually and ask for photos! 5.) It's nice not quickly "liking" things without much thought. I was starting to wonder how much we pay attention to the things we "like" and how much we are driven to "like" things in order to gain reciprocal "likes" on our own posts. Overall, I am feeling happier and healthier due to this decision to reduce my access to my social media accounts. I didn't force myself to promise I'd NEVER login and look, I just got rid of the icons to minimize temptation to "click without purpose." Since doing this, I've been doing the things I love more and enjoying them fully without distraction. Music sounds better, food has more taste, words have more meaning...I am appreciating the things that my life is filled with. And when I'm with friends and they are on their phones, I feel content (and not too weird) just standing there with my thoughts. 25-year-old Jason is not sure why his new coworker, 27-year-old Alicia, that he has worked with 2 times and previously spoken 5 sentences to, does not want to kiss him while having an after work “shift drink” at the bar and restaurant where they work.
“I just thought, wow, in 10 minutes time we were already talking about where we grew up, what kind of pets we had, how many siblings we have and I was like, ‘yeah I’m really feeling this.’ I had a hunch she was too. So I went in for the kiss, but she quickly turned her head so I ended up pecking her cheek instead. So awkward.” Alicia told reporters, “I’m not sure what he was thinking. I was thinking, I literally know more about the guy at the bodega I sometimes shop at in Williamsburg than you…but it’s a typical part of womanhood, always dodging random, unwarranted kisses.” Jason, feeling embarrassed responded, “I don’t know why she would smile like that if she didn’t want me to kiss her. I thought it was a clear sign that she was into the fact that I grew up in Queens, had 2 corgis, and am only child. I thought, I’m totally going to get laid tonight. It turned out that that was not going to be in the cards for me that night” Both individuals had different ideas of what was “work place appropriate.” We gathered that Jason felt like since it was just the food and beverage industry, there was no question that coworkers would hook up without knowing each other that well. “That’s just what working in a restaurant is like…everyone just drinks together and bangs each other. That’s what it’s all about. Food, partying, and hooking up. I love it.” Alicia was not so quick to get on board with this lifestyle. She’s considering that maybe going back for her master’s in Social Work isn’t such a bad idea after all. Blasting through the front doors, a brave woman held her head high as she plunged through the crowds at 5:00 PM on a Monday at the Trader Joe’s on 14th Street and 3rd Avenue in New York City. Scanning the products in each aisle swiftly like a Cheetah searching for its dinner prey, Whitney Howston refused to be intimidated by the countless other humans frantically fighting their way to 2 buck chucks and hefty containers of dark chocolate peanut butter cups. “I told myself, Whitney, girl! This TJ’s is yours, girl. Don’t you let ANYBODY look at you the wrong way or reach for the same bag of snap pea crisps, ok?” Whitney, having grown up in Cleveland, Ohio, told reporters that she feels like all of the practice growing up, including memorizing her favorite Trader Joe’s items and what aisle they could be found on, in a calmer, suburban store location has deeply prepared her for this day. “I am NOT going to leave this place empty handed this time!! NO NO, NOT THIS TIME! Not even if Jesus Christ Our Lord and Saviour HIMSELF appears and tells me straight up, ‘Whitney Howston, today is not the day you will be licking your lips after each mouth salivating bite of a Roasted Plantain Chip, sorry girl.’"
Whitney made it to the cashier 3 hours later with a large gash down the back of her dress, a black eye and only two teeth left in her mouth. She could barely respond when the man ringing her up said in a jolly, clown-like tone, “Well hey hey hey there girl, and how are you doing on this beautiful day?” Whitney slurred over her response, blood gushing down her chin and dripping all down her custom-made Chanel dress. The TJ’s cashier, being accustomed to much more polite and cheerful responses, became offended, suddenly spouting off “TRUMP LOVER” as he threw his fists towards Whitney. It has since been reported that Whitney was able to escape further injuries during this event and was last seen sprinting out of the 14th st and 3rd avenue location pushing her cart full of approximately 82 bags or 41 pounds of Roasted Plaintain Chips. Some customer witnesses claim that she did not pay for these plantain chips prior to the altercation. Other, outdoor bystanders swear they heard her screaming and cursing at god for telling her she wouldn’t be eating her beloved chips today, laughing maniacally as she shouted to the heavens and shoved fistfuls down her throat, chomping fervently. Many are now pondering how even managed to eat such a crunchy delicatessen with only two teeth left. The Trader Joe’s night shift team will be conducting an all night search for Whitney Howston, pivoting around the city in their Hawaiin shirt and khaki pant uniform to signify their solidarity in their company and in this quest for Whitney, whom they are now referring to as “The Plantain Chip Monster.” When we asked one TJ’s employee what they plan to do when and if they find Whitney, he responded with, “Well, Id think we’d start by force feeding her every single plantain chip followed by lecturing her on the dangers of gentrification and abusing her white privilege by stealing said chips without a care in the world. After that? Oh, I dunno, I bet we’d just invite her to join our team, it seems like she needs a job or something. Yea, we’ll start her up on “Smiling and Small Talk training,” the first course of our orientation right away. We all have similar stories to Whitney’s, every single one of us TJ’s employees. It’s really not that unique, honestly. Girl Comic 1: *Makes a joke with an intentional callback to an earlier topic in the conversation*
Guy Comic 1: What’d she just say? Guy Comic 2: Don’t worry about it. She’s just trying to be funny. Girl Comic 2: She’s not trying to be funny. She is being funny. *Awkward Silence* -The kind you always experience after shamelessly vocalizing your pro-feminist ideas. Girl Power! Yeah! Yeah?- “I don’t think women are funny.” A phrase and impression I’ve been exposed to on the reg. from men of all backgrounds throughout my life, even from the men in my life whom I know well, love and respect. The most perplexing part about that phrase? I make the men around me laugh. Let's not forget that laughing is an involuntary physiological response. Research claims that if a man finds a woman to be attractive, he is more likely to listen to what she has to say. I find that unfortunate. But even when a man finds me to be attractive, I find myself instinctively avoiding telling him that I do comedy. Why? Because from my experience, to many men, it does not translate well. It hurts their ego. Traditionally, men are supposed to be the funny ones. And so here I am stuck in a rock and hard place of wanting to exert my strength in the belief of equality between the two genders and in my innate human desire to be loved. Yes, one could argue that I am picking the wrong men to interact with but in my mind, it's deeper...it's a subconscious Groupthink in American society, with varying levels, of course. With popular television series now under the spotlight, such as, Amazon's The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel by the same creator (Amy Sherman-Palladino) as one of my favorite "basic-white-girl go-to" series, Gilmore Girls heyyy, times are changing...but are they really? Are women more often being seen as the funny bad-asses they are? Are more women getting out of their heads, away from societal expectations and putting themselves out into the comedy scene? Or is that why the series, though set in the 1950's, is still relevant and therefore, annoyingly interesting...? As I walk down the stairs into yet another dark bar basement in Manhattan, I brace myself for the very likely possibility that I will be the only (or one of two) women attending this stand-up comedy open mic. I take a seat and do what every comic does best, take out my notebook to focus on my jokes and no one else’s (because honestly, we are all POS). Still, I listen. I have a hard time not. I feel unsympathetic as 70% of the male comics performing tonight confidently walk on stage, grab the microphone and spout off “jokes” about “ugly” ex-girlfriends with loose private parts and lament that they "just don’t understand why they haven’t gotten laid recently." Well, I can take a guess. Women are finally done with what I'm going to call the "Man's Man." Good, strong females with unwavering personalities have no use for guys with faulty morals, selfish exploits, and persistent attempts to minimize a woman's opinion and extreme cases, existence. Overall, women have more education and accumulated degrees, we have good jobs, we have money, and we have self-respect (or if not always, we are for damn sure trying). So, how is it, I'd like to ask, that I still feel like I am constantly battling to prove to males in my environment that I am an intelligent human being in this world? That I am capable of in-taking daily news, observations, and research---picking it apart, analyzing it with my prior, long-term knowledge, finding a relate-able (on-a-human-level*), often arbitrary idea to compare it to, and guess what?---making a fucking hilarious statement in response. And still, majority of the time that a male comic approaches me after an open mic or a show...it's to ask for my number. I am not impressed by this. I am not less than. You are not more than. And vice versa. So Man's Man, I'm talking to you--let your mind be flexible to think a lady is funny and you may be surprised at a brand new way of thinking about the same subject. Wowee! That's wild! Women have been doing it for centuries without a problem. GET.ON.BOARD. Personally, I want to lessen the frequency in which I'm a part of this toxic dialogue...not even really a part of, but more like "the butt of the joke of." The type of dialogue where I make a timely joke and then two of my male friends follow up with this conversation: Male 1: "What'd she just say?" Male 2: "I don't know, I wasn't listening" Both chuckle in unison. Here's an oxymoron for you: I want my comedy to be taken seriously. And a motto I live by: We can do better as empathetic human beings. *Dudes-- Please stop acting like you don't have the basic socials skills of perspective-taking and empathy. We all grew up with the saying: "put yourself in their shoes." -Heidi Hendrix My body aches,
my eyes fold heavy with water weight. I am thankful for eye lids, which serve as a dam for the floods trying to B-r-e-a-k through, after losing you. -thinking of family What kind of personality do you have to have to think that we ALL want to listen to YOUR LAME. ASS. music?
Jay is an Uber Driver in Southern California. It is his only job. He keeps a close eye on big events that he can drive and make money during. Some events going on right now include a festival for Lesbians called Dinah Shore in Palm Springs and the popular music festival, Coachella.
Jay grew up in Philly. He lived in Miami, Florida for 8 years working as a club promoter. After years of heavy partying, he moved to So. Cal. He's been there 15 years and has never looked back. He loves the perfect weather there. His only complaint is that sometimes he feels the people that live in So. Cal. aren't as "real" as they are in Philly and NYC. He has 3 dogs including a Pitbull, a German Shepherd, and a Chihuahua. Jay gave me his personal number in case I need any tips on the area or a drive to Joshua Tree National Park. I won't be calling him tho. I'm too paranoid. #StrangerDanger. I want the kind of love where,
you move into the other person. Not the kind where, only they move into you. |
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